May 7, 2025 – Bol, Brač

Our Exploration of Brač Continues

We started the day with a standout breakfast at our hotel, The Ameniss Velairus Resort. Strong, flavourful coffee and a table bursting with all things breakfast made it the perfect start to the morning. It was just what we needed after a sticky, sleepless night.

The air conditioning in our room had been out. We were told an HVAC technician had come by, but when we returned after cocktails the night before, the room was stifling. The hotel did their best, moving us to not one, not two, but three other rooms. Each one just as warm. Finally, we landed in a room that had a working unit. To be clear, we’re not usually fussy, but this was a different level of heat and humidity. No breeze, no relief. Still, the staff were kind and accommodating, so full marks to them for the effort.

Bellies full and spirits revived, we loaded up our tiny rental car and headed out for the southern side of Brač. We had our sights set on Vina Senjković, a family-run winery and restaurant known for their farm-to-table cuisine and rave reviews. We’d been trying for days to reach them for a reservation, but no response. We decided to gamble and show up. Unfortunately, we were still a bit too early in the season. Skunked.

Not ones to waste a day, we decided to head west to Milna to scout out our ferry port for later in the week. Along the way, the car began to show signs of protest. What it had in charm, it lacked in horsepower. Every incline became a full-body experience. We cheered it on like a stubborn mule, urging it up steep hills as the engine whined and wheezed. Somehow, it got us there.

En route, we were unexpectedly lured into the small hilltop village of Ložišća. We hadn’t even heard of it, but once we saw the bell tower standing proudly above the stone houses, we had to stop. The Church of Saints John and Paul, with its baroque façade, was built in 1820. But the real showstopper was the ornate bell tower designed by Croatian sculptor Ivan Rendić in 1899. This sleepy village, with its cobbled streets and slate-roofed homes, felt like a time capsule.

Here, stone houses still have open fireplaces, and fig-drying tables cling to the walls. Water is collected in old stone wells, and some homes still feature original rainwater pools once used for animals and crops. A short drive downhill would have taken us to Bobovišća by the Sea, but we chose instead to wander the village and admire the sweeping views from the cemetery across the gorge. That’s the best photo spot, trust me.

Back in our trusty car, which seemed to groan with every restart, we made it to Milna. Once known as “the bay of a thousand ships,” this beautiful harbour has long been a favourite stop for sailors. It still is. We explored its baroque church and admired the stonework lining the waterfront before settling in at a seaside spot for a shared pizza and glass of wine. Surprisingly good, on both counts.

We had one more unexpected gem to check out before making our way into Bol—the Church of St. Martin. It sits high up on a ridge between Bobovišća and Milna, and our little rental car definitely had to work overtime to get us there. We’re still not entirely sure we took the right road. The narrow, rocky, single-lane path twisted its way upward, flanked by dry stone walls and shrubs that reached a little too close for comfort. We half-joked (but not really) that if another car came down the hill, one of us was reversing straight into the sea.

Once at the top though, any second thoughts about the road vanished. The Church of St. Martin is perched in a spot that gives you the feeling you’re standing on the edge of the world. Views in every direction—out to the Split Gates and across the water to Hvar and Vis—make the climb entirely worth it.

The church itself is a pre-Romanesque beauty. A simple stone façade with a triangular gable caps the front, and while it’s modest in size, it carries an air of ancient significance. Built with a single nave and semicircular apse, its proportions and clean architectural lines speak to a time when form and function came together effortlessly.

The church was locked when we visited, which we expected—but we also noticed a bell rope hanging outside the entrance. We couldn’t resist. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, we gave it a pull. The bell let out a deep, echoing toll that rolled down the hills and over the sea. It felt slightly mischievous but also oddly magical, like sending a ripple of history out into the present.

Inside, if you manage to visit when it’s open, there’s a Renaissance relief above the altar depicting St. Martin on horseback giving his cloak to a beggar—carved by none other than Niccolò Fiorentino’s workshop. But even just standing outside, soaking in those panoramic views with the wind in our hair and not another soul in sight, felt like a privilege.

If you find yourself in this corner of Brač and feel like a little adventure, this is a stop you won’t regret. Just maybe choose your route a little more carefully than we did.

With a few hours left in the day, we headed toward our home for the next few nights—Bol. Nestled beneath Vidova Gora, the highest peak in the Dalmatian islands, Bol is everything you’d want in an Adriatic escape. It’s famous for Zlatni Rat beach, but also packed with history, beauty, and a vibe that feels effortlessly relaxed.

We checked into our vacation rental and were greeted by our warm and enthusiastic host, Petris. Our accommodations were exactly what we’d hoped for—just a couple of minutes from the turquoise Adriatic and five minutes to town. Petris welcomed us with homemade lemonade from his own lemon trees and a basket of crispy bread snacks. A genuinely kind soul, he made us feel right at home.

After a nap and a quick freshen-up, we walked into old town to explore. The harbour was framed by a charming collection of cafés, bars, shops, and restaurants. At the end of the promenade, close to the bus station, we spotted Stina Winery, one of the spots on both of our must-visit lists.

What we didn’t realize was just how close it was. We sat down at a harbourfront table, and each ordered something special. I went for a sparkling wine you can’t find back in Canada, and Ron chose their flagship red, also unavailable at home. It was a perfect way to ease into island time. Everything slowed down. We let the pace of Bol wrap around us.

Soon enough, our thoughts turned to dinner. Tired of pizza and pasta, we were thrilled to discover Vendetta by Vagabundo, an Asian fusion restaurant just steps away. We chose a table on the waterfront patio and ordered wine while we looked over the menu. Just as I was easing into the evening, a bird chose that moment to poop directly on me. Perfect timing, right before dinner. 😆 Luckily, we hadn’t been served yet, and after a bathroom cleanup and a strategic move under an umbrella, we were back on track. Ron, of course, found it endlessly hilarious.

We shared Gyoza, Spring Rolls, and a Crazy California Roll; all of it fresh, beautifully presented, and just what we needed. In fact, it was so good, we returned the following night.

The day ended with a slow stroll back to our little home, soaking up the golden hour glow. Kids played by the water, boats rocked gently in the harbour, and we poured a glass of wine from our Stina Winery stash. A few rounds of Monopoly Deal (I won) closed out the night.

Bol might be one of our new favourite places on earth.