Yugoslavia

Yugoslavia last summer attracted more tourists than Spain, and for good cause: The nation's Adriatic coast line is an enticing 450-mile expanse of beaches, beaches and more beaches. Although Split and Dubrovnik receive the lion's share of coastal vacationers, the country's dozens of nude-sun-bathing settlements along the Adriatic are rapidly attracting the uninhibited sun set from all over the world. LeRoy Neiman, Playboy's artist on the move, recently made the bare and boisterous Yugoslavian beach scene, and reports: "In America, nudist culture is still considered a kookie pursuit. Having experienced it, however, I can only say it was a thorough delight. I found it really refreshing to be baked by the sun and then totally cooled by the sea breeze. For an artist, a nudist beach provides a fascinating scene; there's a wonderful variety of living forms in shades of curry and apricot. The climate on the coast allows sun bathers to head for the beach each year from about May first through the middle of October, and by mid-July, most of the nudists have acquired their allover tans. Fashion, as it does on beaches all over the world, plays a part there. Women display a tremendous variety of headgear and ingeniously decorate themselves with color, in the forms of bright lipsticks, flowers and ribbons. The nude beaches are permissive in the sense that men who occasionally become sexually aroused in public aren't given more than passing notice. The state allows only couples and families to enter. Solo sun bathers circumvent this rule, however, by paddling close to shore in kayaks and then swimming in unobserved. Except for water sports, indolence--sitting, lying down or just standing--is the order of the day, although I noticed one hyperactive volleyball (continued on page 198) Man at his Leisure (continued from page 128) group that was more animated than a Pepsi TV commercial. Nudists usually look, better from a distance than they do close up, but I did come across a great many attractive people in the course of my sketching. Although Yugoslavia's nudists are leery of having their photographs taken--just as in the West, friends, relatives and employers may disapprove of the au naturel ethic--they don't object to being sketched; but more often than not, they are either too theatrical in the way they strike poses or too self-conscious. Playboy, incidentally, was well known to many of the nudists, as was its Editor-Publisher, Mr. 'Hafner.' "

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Artist Neiman had time to enjoy only a few of the many pleasures offered along Yugoslavia's Adriatic reaches. In this nation of six republics, three languages and two alphabets, diversity is a way of life, and summer is the perfect time to sample it. No country in Europe shares more borders with other nations than this one, starting with Italy and Austria in the northwest and continuing in a clockwise semicircle through Hungary, Romania and Bulgaria to Greece and Albania in the south. The longest border of all, however, is along the Adriatic, that crystal sliver of the Mediterranean that separates Italy from Yugoslavia's coast line and forms a rugged relief of pine-forested islands, sun-bright beaches and rocky promontories. The coast has thus far resisted a change in character. In the tiny, undisturbed fishing villages, automobiles pass through only occasionally and neon is an unknown encroachment. One even rediscovers a sense of smell: The fragrance that stirs in the sea breeze holds the scent of tamarisk, lavender and mimosa. And the towns, with their Roman walls, Turkish minarets and Venetian loggias, give eloquent evidence of the nation's historical interludes.

The recent boom in Yugoslavian tourism has not disagreeably altered the picture. Traditional peasant dress is still worn on market days, providing a remarkable contrast with the ultramodern hotels, discos, night clubs and restaurants that proliferate from one end of the coast to the other. Equally important, tourism has not changed the age-old Mediterranean style of hospitality that decrees that the partying is finished only when the last wine carafe has been emptied and newly met couples have wandered off to explore the possibilities of mutual understanding without benefit of a mutual language. (English, incidentally, will get you by in the larger towns and most hotels, and a little knowledge of Italian or German will help considerably.) Forget trying to learn the language: Such implausible entities as Krk, grk, Krka. Srb and Srdj--the respective names of an island, a wine, a waterfall, a town and a mountain--do not flow trippingly off a Western tongue.

The two most popular regions on the coast are the Istrian Peninsula, which juts into the sea just below the Italian border, and the Dalmatian littoral, which extends almost the entire length of Yugoslavia's Adriatic shore line. The resort route starts with the bustling town of Koper, just over the Italian border and a 20-minute drive from Trieste. Koper combines eye-pleasing medieval and Renaissance architecture with the updated amenities of such modern hotels as the Triglav and Žusterna, and boasts an excellent beach as well as a surprisingly good variety of outdoor cafés and night clubs.

Not too far south on the peninsula route are the Venetian-style towns of Piran, where brightly painted feluccas (trimasted sailing ships) are moored in the miniature harbor, and Portorož, whose ambiance suggests a small-scale Juan-les-Pins. The local sports range from sailing and water-skiing to roulette and baccarat (for tourists only) in the gambling casino.

The French Riviera redolence is further fortified at Rovinj, which stands on a quiet bay 35 miles south of Portorož. A profusion of amiable bars and sidewalk cafés attracts a large number of prospective nudists, who travel from the town to the small island of Crveni Otok, where they indulge their sun worship in comparative privacy.

Pula, on the tip of the peninsula, recalls the country's Roman heritage. It contains one of the world's largest amphitheaters; and every summer, upwards of 20,000 people fill its well-preserved terraces to attend the annual Yugoslav Film Festival. Pula offers a wide selection of nocturnal entertainments and luxuriously appointed hotels. One of its more memorable hostelries is the Riviera, a late--19th Century palace dating from the era when Austro-Hungarian blue bloods came to take the waters. From Pula, drive up the northeastern coast of the peninsula and, in less than 90 minutes, you'll arrive in Opatija, the area's best-known resort. There, the attendant night life includes gambling, cabarets (everything from strippers to pop stars) and discothèques. The leading hotels and shops are located on Tito Avenue, and there are several fine sand beaches from which to choose.

Just minutes away by auto from Opatija lies Rijeka, the nation's main port and terminal for fast ferries that will carry you south to the far end of the Adriatic coast. (The latter journey takes only 48 hours, round trip, and stops at some of the most popular locations along the littoral, including the sun-drenched resort islands of Krk, Hvar and Korcula.)

There are 1000 or more islands located off Yugoslavia, fewer than 100 of which are permanently inhabited. Some are so secluded that they awaken only during the summer months, when bronzed beachniks from every corner of the Continent converge on the coast. During the day, activity centers on the sea--from sunning to skinny-dipping for shells and coral, to skindiving, sailing and schooner cruising. (Boats of all types and sizes can be rented at the larger resort towns.)

Until early September, you can witness sporting and cultural events of every description, beginning with the jazz festival at Bled and on to the Adriatic Grand Prix at Opatija, the International Motorcycle Rally at Crikvenica, regattas at Pula and Rijeka, a jousting-on-horseback tournament at Sinj and festivals of folk crafts, drama, opera and musical concerts in the old cities of Split and Dubrovnik. The performances are staged in palace courtyards. Roman squares and Venetian market places; hotel space is at a premium while the festivals are in progress.

Split, with more than 100,000 inhabitants, is the second-largest city on the coast and the local point of tourist traffic. There are a number of restaurants well worth frequenting in town (two such are the Zagreb and the Sarajevo) and you might try reserving a room at the Marjan, a gleaming-new, well-staffed caravansary, though there are at least a dozen other hotels where Americans will be quite comfortable. In July and August, the Split Drama and Music Festival keeps the city on its toes, but many visitors--especially the young set--prefer to catch the summer action farther south, in Dubrovnik.

George Bernard Shaw observed nearly 40 years ago that "Those who seek earthly paradise should come and see Dubrovnik," and the intervening years have not changed the validity of his comment. Seen from a distance, the city's massive ramparts belie its newly formed acquaintance with the West. Dubrovnik has become one of Europe's leading resorts in the short space of the past decade; and if you pop into town without hotel reservations during the summer months, be prepared to be turned away. For six weeks each year, from July 10 to August 25, the Dubrovnik Summer Festival transforms the city into a nonstop, crowded center of the performing arts. The best of Yugoslavian--and international--opera, ballet, drama, music and folk companies do their thing almost every day; the 26 outdoor stages that dot the town serve as proof that this is one festival that swings as advertised. And because of the event, Dubrovnik attracts a sizable number of young people from all over Europe, especially Scandinavia. The summer festival has been such a huge success that Dubrovnik is setting up a year-round entertainment program to hypo tourism during its mild winters. The city houses a number of excellent hotels; the Argentina and the Excelsior are two huge, well-maintained luxury establishments; and if fin-de-siècle elegance is your bag, try the Imperial. Two less expensive hostelries to consider are the Villa Orsula and the Splendid. Dubrovnik's only drawback is that its intact medieval walls run down to the sea: To seek beach action, you'll have to motor to Budva, Srebreno. Mlini or Cavtat. Cavtat's palm-lined promenade borders on a tranquil pristine bay.

It should come as no surprise that in a country encompassing so many contrasts of style and custom, the cuisine is equally varied. There are appetizing reminders of Austria, Italy, Hungary and Turkey to be savored, as well as home-grown delights. Seafood is served practically everywhere, and in Dalmatia, one of the traditional favorites is brodet, similar to bouillabaisse.

On the Istrian Peninsula, local specialties include mussels cooked in wine, a delicate smoked ham known as pr?ut, and pa?ki sir, a parmesan-type cheese. Accompany these with one of the dark, almost black red wines from the Carso mountains; there's merlot, blatina and žilavka, which are grown in the vineyards near Mostar. Slovenia's best red wines are teran and pinot, and wine is produced on the great majority of Dalmatian islands; white vintages that will interest you are vugava and grk. Meat menus list regional specialties such as Turkish-inspired ragouts of veal and chicken, and ražnjici, which is shish kabob. Top one of these off with some of the world's sweetest, most inspired desserts and a cup of rich Turkish coffee (to be followed, perhaps, by a glass or two of ?ljivovica, which is plum brandy. Yugoslavia's well-known--and highly potent--national drink).

To sample the myriad contrasts of this Wyoming-sized nation, one need obtain only a passport plus a visa--available free at Yugoslav consulates or upon arrival at the airport--and necessary transportation. The most direct route from the U.S. is on Pan Am from New York to Belgrade, the capital, via London. Yugoslav Airlines (J.A.T.) provides ample connecting service to every major resort area along the coast. One final observation: Yugoslavia, the most Western and independent of Eastern-bloc nations, has shed much of its Red tape; this particular People's Republic has long since stopped being a meek Soviet satellite. Instead, the nation is quickly regaining its grace and earthy zest for life. Which is why this might just be the year to make your own Yugoslavian beach scene.