I’ve spent close to 10 of the last 30 months in Croatia. It’s become a home away from home I never expected it to be - in part down to Croatians themselves.
And their lifestyle.
Croatia does the simple life well. Sure, it still sometimes succumbs to the trappings of consumerism like everywhere else, but you don’t have to. You can still have a good life here.
Many Croatians do.
Here are 7 ways you could incorporate - in one way or another - into your own life, wherever you live.
2-hour coffee breaks
Before I started spending serious time here, I’d heard that Croats (and Balkans in general) will spend up to 2 hours on their coffee. I never believed it until I saw it in action.
They do. And I’m all over it.
Croatians know how to take their time. They’ll often bring pastries from a local cafe to their coffee dates so they don’t have to move for hours. They chat, they do business, they read, they journal, they sit and watch the world as it unfolds in front of them.
I’ve never seen cafe culture like it, even in other cafe-heavy cultures like France or Spain.
I remember reading an article of
on Medium where he said it’s standard for coffee in the US to be served in a takeaway cup because most people are doing exactly that - taking away.Whereas I’ve been typing away in a coffee shop in Zagreb for a few hours now and I’ve yet to see a single takeaway. I have, however, watched this couple sit here the whole time.
2 hour coffee breaks are magical and don’t have to be restricted to Croatia. They could happen in any coffee shop across the world.
If you’re amenable to it.
The art of Pomalo
Pomalo is a Dalmatian word (Dalmatia being the southern part of Croatia) that translates to take it easy.
It’s something the Dalmatians take very seriously. And whilst I hear it’s very annoying when it comes to deadline-driven projects (the installation of my friend’s kitchen was apparently over 8 months late due in part due to Pomalo), in everyday life, it’s glorious.
Pomalo means slowing down, going with the flow, stopping to pet the dog or the cat. Literally moving at a slower pace. Taking your time over lunch or dinner - or yes, coffee. Chilling the F out.
Pomalo is basically everything a slow, sustainable, intentional life is about. It’s not easy to master - if it was, I’d have nothing to write about - but it is possible to embrace and weave into your everyday life, wherever you live.
Read more about Pomalo here.
The art of Fjaka
Move over flow state, there’s another mindset in town. Fjaka.
This is another Dalmatian concept - because these guys take the art of relaxing very seriously. Fjaka translates roughly to the sweetness of doing nothing.
And it’s not easy to do.
As my friend Paul says on his popular You Tube channel about Croatia:
You have to work really hard at doing nothing. It’s a life art. I’ve seen people when they’re in a state of fjaka it’s almost like they’re in some sort of drug-induced trance. But they’re just there, being Dalmatian.
Most of us are terrible at doing nothing. We’re made to feel guilty if we chill out so we never do. Instead, we fill our days with stuff. From appointments to TV to extra hours at work, with hardly a minute of the day unaccounted for.
Not so much a thing in Dalmatia.
We could all do with embracing Fjaka.
Embracing food seasonality
Croatia’s lifeblood is in its municipal markets that you find in all large towns and often the villages too.
These markets are incredible because you can literally see food seasonality as it happens. One week there might be a table of strawberries, the next, cherries, the following, figs. Right now it’s wild asparagus season and it’s everywhere.
But once that season finishes, you won’t see strawberries / cherries / wild asparagus until next year.
It’s a far cry from what we’re used to in the likes of the US or UK where you buy get anything you want at any time of year.
Eating seasonally has been a personal crusade of mine for years. Back in the UK, I would pickle, can, and jam as much as I could during the season to reduce my need to buy out of season. I got a weekly vegetable box from a local organic farm which formed the basis of much of my food. And yeah, during the winter that did include a lot of cabbage. But that was OK because I know a great brassica recipe or two.
IMO, living a simple life includes connecting with the earth which means embracing food locality and seasonality. It’s fresher, it’s better for you, and reduces food miles. There is literally no downside to it other than you can’t eat crappy strawberries in December.
And no one needs that. Just ask Croatia.
Community matters
They say there isn’t a single day in the year without a community-based event going on somewhere in Croatia.
That could be the squid festival on Hvar. The sausage festival in Istria. Sword dancing on Korčula. Advent in Zagreb.
All of them have one thing in common - they bring the community together. I’ve seen this firsthand. It starts with a little bit of the national spirit rakija being poured, it ends up with hundreds of people singing traditional songs long into the night.
Much like most of Europe, community is a thing here. They care deeply about their local area and the people living in it.
Back in the UK, I never felt enough community - and I hear it’s not common in the US or Canada either. But it could be.
It should be.
Come at life from a place of trust, not skepticism
The first time I saw someone put a parcel on a bus in Croatia and then leave, the thought crossed my mind - could that be a bomb?
Of course, no, it wasn’t.
I’d in fact just witnessed a uniquely Balkan way of doing business called Balkan DHL.
Croatia has a great network of buses and ferries that go all over the country and it’s not uncommon for people to use them for deliveries. Slip the driver or ferry worker a few Euro and you can put anything on there to be collected at the other end, no questions asked.
Whilst in the UK or US, this would be a cause to call the bomb squad, here in Croatia it’s just another example of how Croats approach everything from a place of trust, not suspicion.
It’s not just Balkan DHL, it’s everything. Croatia is incredibly safe. I’ve left my laptop on a street table for it to still be there 10 minutes later. I’ve seen a guy leave the engine running on his $80k BMW whilst he jumps into a shop. I’ve walked around Split in the middle of the night on my own.
Croatia has taught me to trust before I suspect, especially when it comes to people. Too many people think the world is out to get them when I truly believe that most people are good and honest. Sure, you still have to have your wits about you, but you don’t have to believe everyone is a baddie whilst you’re the only goodie.
If you approach life that way, it’s so, so much better and positive both for you and for the people around you.
Benches
That’s Benches, not beaches (although they are excellent too).
In Croatia, benches aren’t just somewhere to sit, they’re community hubs, especially for older folk.
Something I love about Croatia is that they don’t hide their elderly population away. You’ll often see groups of older people (often men but women too) sitting on the benches in town squares or along the Rivas (Croatian waterfronts). If there is a bench in Croatia, there’s probably an old dude sitting on it.
Benching is all about whiling the time away with your compatriots. It’s about sharing information with a bit of town gossip thrown in. It’s a makeshift bar where a couple of beers are sunk. It’s a place to see what’s going on.
It brings places to life.
We could all do with sitting on a bench and taking the world in more often.
So much good stuff here about Croatia. The food seasonality is spot on, and so is the 2 hour coffee. Saw that ALL of the time in Split, even if I never learned to master it.
And this made me laugh out loud -- you can’t eat crappy strawberries in December.
Lord, I remember terrible winter strawberries back in Seattle.