Searching for Abbazia: Following royal footsteps along Croatia's most elegant promenade

The elegant seaside town of Abbazia once vied for the title of Europe's most stylish health resort. But the only way to pin-point Abbazia on a map today is if your local antiquarian book shop possesses a copy of Three Months in Abbazia, by Victorian explorer Sir Richard Burton; the town has vanished from maps and memory. Like the blooming magnolias, the town itself still exists, but after the formation of Tito's Yugoslavia, it was renamed Opatija.

Countries, borders, place-names
In the Balkans, geographic markers change with head-spinning frequency. Opatija now belongs to Croatia. Guarded by a backdrop of densely-wooded hills, it sits where the Istrian peninsula joins the Kvarner Riviera.

From the mid-19th century until the Jazz Age, Abbazia was one of the true pearls of the Adriatic. Escaping Vienna's winter chill, the Hapsburg nobility of the Austro-Hungarian Empire set the fashion. Drawn by the mild microclimate, Abbazia's glittering guest list included crowned heads, composers, novelists, and other celebrities of the day. They flocked here to take in the sea air; revive their health in hot baths, cold baths, and the sanatorium; and to dance or gamble until dawn. So did Alfred of Nassau, one of the Grand Dukes of Luxembourg.

A long smoke

The Duke certainly turned heads. When his physician told him to cut his cigarette intake to one a day, he obeyed…sort of. He took his daily constitutional to the concert pavilion puffing a specially made yard-long cigarette.

Other distinguished visitors included Chekhov, Puccini, and Gustav Mahler-who came to convalesce here after a case of tonsillitis. James Joyce regularly took tea on the Hotel Imperial's terrace. Isadora Duncan danced to the swaying fronds of a palm tree outside her balcony in the Villa Amalia, an annex of today's Hotel Kvarner.

Where to get a nostalgia fix
Although Opatija/Abbazia's glory started fading in the aftermath of the First World War and the break-up of the Hapsburg Empire, it retains an air of dowager duchess opulence: grand hotels with crystal chandelier ballrooms; Viennese-style pastries slathered in cream; elderly Austrian and German visitors sporting old-fashioned finery. You get the impression they return year after year for a nostalgia fix.

The ideal way to work up an appetite for a leisurely al fresco lunch is a walk along Opatija's promenade-the Lungomare, much of its paved eight-mile length shaded by chestnut and laurel trees. Handily placed benches invite you to sit and contemplate the Adriatic where the islands of Cres and Krk loom in the shimmering blue of Kvarner bay. Following the Lungomare eastward brings you to Volosko, a fishing village of flower-hung stone cottages, a tiny harbor and fish restaurants.

Sadly, the seascapes in this direction are spoiled by a gigantic power station, belching out fiery fumes on the outskirts of the industrialized city of Rijeka. (In Opatija's heyday, Rijeka was called Fiume.) Going westward toward the larger seaside village of Lovran is the prettier option. Lovran has a small pebble beach, a historic center with green-shuttered Italianate houses, and a specialty cake made from chestnuts.

The Belle Epoque villas flanking the Lungomare are as eye-catching as anything on the French or Italian Riviera. Sometimes adorned with stone balconies and turrets, a few are what you might call Gothic-Mediterranean. Others are painted honey, butter yellow, or sugar-almond pink, with the occasional brave splash of blue or green.

P.S. If you want to linger in style, the Mozart Hotel (www.hotel-mozart.hr) opened its doors in 1896. It decorates Opatija's main street like a sumptuous rose-pink wedding cake. Depending on season, daily rates for standard doubles with breakfast range from $188 to $235.

For a gourmet meal, try La Mandrac in Volosko. Menus change weekly but expect creations such as homemade ravioli stuffed with shrimp and wild asparagus, black polenta with cuttlefish and scampi, and octopus with rocket salad and pumpkin pesto. By Croatian standards it's expensive-around $50 per head with wine-but the food is outstanding.