I’ll hold up my hand and admit it: the billboard advertising worked. On the road over from Dubrovnik to Medjugorje, we passed billboard after billboard advertising Kravice waterfalls. A little bit of Googling told us that we could pass pretty close on our way back.
We were on holiday. We had time. It went on the list.
On the road over, we stopped at Prapratno Beach, a snorkelling spot on the Pelješac Peninsula in southern Croatia. The water was cooler than in Slano. €10 to park for the day, a great little bar/café, and portaloos that were best avoided.
But there were fish. And it was scenic. And the water was clear.
Just before we hit the border, we stopped for something to eat in the village of Prud near Metković.* Little did we know that we were in the Neretva region and that the local specialities were frog and eel.
My cousin MD used to fish for eels. He’d bring them back to my granny’s and leave them in a tub in the scullery. Evil-looking black things they were. My aunt and mam loved them. I’m not sure I ever tried them. It’s hard to eat what frightens you.
Frogs I’ve had. In Ireland, believe it or not. Up the North somewhere. With a Serbian mate. The legs were fried in crispy batter and, from what I recall, tasted like chicken.
We went for the frogs. Our waiter warned us that we’d get whole frogs – well, everything but the heads. The batter was eggy. They were bony. But they did taste like chicken.
The tuna tartare made up for it, though, as did the fish pate.
Konoba Vrilo specialises in what’s known as wetland cuisine. The area is home to a broad network of marshes, channels, reed beds, and fresh and brackish water, places where frogs and eels thrive. Frogs are fried or breaded; grilled; cooked with bacon/prosciutto; made into risotto; and most famously, cooked together with eel in a brudet (a fish stew but with eel and frog instead of fish-fish). The brudet was once a poor person’s everyday meal – now it’s touted as a regional delicacy.
The beauty of road trips is that you can stop where you please.
But, back to the falls in Kravice.
Sitting about 7 km from Ljubuški, Kravice is a major attraction. We got there mid-morning having stopped to pay a visit to St Anthony in Humac. Busloads had already arrived, and it would get a lot busier during the day. Early is best.
The €10 entrance fee is worth every cent. The walk down to the falls is a little steep in places, but you can catch a train for €1. We didn’t know about this until we saw it at the bottom and were glad to know we wouldn’t have to walk back up those steps.
The name Kravice is traditionally associated with krava, meaning cow. Legend has it that a cow once fell over the waterfall and survived! Apparently it seemed appropriate to name them after her.
The main falls are about 28m high and 120m wide, forming a fabulous semicircular amphitheatre. They’re on the Trebižat River, a river that appears and disappears, re-emerging from underground, producing a series of waterfalls and cascades.
We didn’t realise but our same ticket would also have gotten us in to see the smaller Koćuša falls upriver. It’s about 5m high and 50m wide and has some historic mills beside it, which would have been cool to see.
The sun chairs rented for €6 a day, and the umbrellas for €3. We weren’t going to be there long enough to warrant that, and anyway, all the good ones had already been taken.
Early does it, lads, early does it.
The prime positions by the water’s edge were also taken, so we plonked ourselves at a restaurant table, ordered some drinks and then had lunch, taking turns to dip into the deliciously cold water.
Our chief entertainment, once we’d absorbed the wow factor, was watching the selfie-takers. You can even hire a boat to take you closer to the falls, and photography is included. Ye gads! It was both hilarious and sad.
I wondered how the locals felt about their swimming pool being hijacked and invaded by tourists from all over the world.
Bars, restaurants, and stalls selling the usual tourist tat were doing good business. The most frequent comment I overheard was about how reasonable it all was. That the same thing in Croatia would have been three times the price was a common refrain.
I’d go again. I’d go earlier. I’d stay for longer.
*Note to self to check out this town if we’re this way again.
