I couldn't find anything that said that she actually bought a place in Brijuni, but there are several articles that speculate on her intention to buy property.
Excerpt from
Glamour and a whiff of gunsmoke
Times Online Travel, 13 July, 2003
"With enough of the folding stuff, you can. One of the reasons the region is a hit with the wealthy is a new law allowing foreigners to buy land, including islands. Princess Caroline of Monaco and her husband, Prince Ernst of Han-over, recently came shopping for one. And Francesca von Habsburg, Archduchess of Austria and one of Europe’s wealthiest women, has reputedly bought a tumbledown monastery on Lopud to use as a summer home."
Excerpt from
"Is Croatia the new Cote d'Azur?"
Telegraph, 12 August, 2003
Croatia has been billed, with equal vapidity, as the "hottest new destination for 2003", "the new Med" and "the new Côte d'Azur". Celebrities are flocking there, we are led to believe, abandoning Tuscany and St Tropez faster than you can say Hvar, Korcula and Brac. Even Princess Caroline of Monaco is reported to be buying an island in the area (prices start at £1 million).
The Princess and the Sea
Sunday Herald, 31 August, 2003
Travel: Croatia's Dalmatian Coast is peppered with islands, including the small but bountiful Brijuni. Once a favourite of President Tito, the tranquil island is now a national park
It appeared suddenly one morning. A luxurious blue and white boat looming over the beach like a sky-scraper blocking what had been uninterrupted vistas to the Croatian mainland. Since arriving on Brijuni, I'd not seen anything bigger than the small boat that ferried me to the island so I was intrigued. The hunt for crabs was abandoned in favour of watching the endless buzzing back and forth of jet skis and small speed boats. Apparently this was Reverie, the boat belonging to Princess Caroline of Monaco, as according to local gossip, she has fallen in love with this piece of paradise.
But then Brijuni has long been a playground for the rich and famous. The Roman emperors had their summer holidays here and in the Eighties an Austrian industrialist snapped up the Malaria-stricken island and transformed it into an Adriatic Monte Carlo. Brijuni became the most glamorous health and recreation destination for the rich and talented. But when President Tito found it in 1947 he appropriated it for his cronies. From then on reputation, power and influence, rather than money, was the only passport to the island.
Now a national park, the natural beauty of Brijuni can be enjoyed by everyone although it doesn't really have the feel of a tourist resort. I arrived on the island during a spectacular Mediterranean storm to find no room at the inn apart from the President of Croatia's personal suite. As I steeled myself for a wet journey back to the mainland, a phone call was made, strings were pulled and I suddenly found myself in a palatial villa by the sea. It turned out to be one of the government apartments, but even so, as I stood under a steaming hot shower, I couldn't help but fantasise about who the previous occupants might have been -- maybe even Tito himself? The letter T embroidered on the towels is but one reminder of the former Yugoslav leader whose memory still looms large.
Tito's old Cadillac is the only car on the island -- unless you count the golf carts -- and for a few Kuna you too can ride in the open-top and pretend to be a benevolent dictator. However, I found hiring a bicycle the best way of exploring the island. By the harbour a Venetian fortress has been turned into a museum full of Tito memorabilia including photographs of him with the great and the good. During the summer months, Tito held court in Brijuni receiving numerous delegations from all over the world. It was here that Indira Ghandi, Neru, the Queen, President Nasser of Egypt, Hirohito, Sophia Loren, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, to name but a few, were entertained.
As well as notching up appearances with the rich and famous, Tito was a great animal lover and collected a variety of exotic species from this globe-trotting jaunts. He built a special zoo for them on Brijuni and the museum his a collection of his creatures, stuffed for posterity. A sign above the displays proudly states that even in death the animals are well looked after.
As someone who prefers their animals alive, I cycled to the zoo at the far end of the island to see what was left of this eclectic collection -- a few bison, zebras, llamas, giraffes, elephants and even a holy cow. One of the few exotic birds remaining is a cheerful multi-lingual parakeet called Cocky. He keeps children amused for hours imitating their every word or in a screechy voice asks himself how he is -- Kako se Cocky? Elsewhere on the island I came across peacocks and tame deer. These usually lurk at the back of the restaurants on the hunt for scraps of food and will even nibble things out of your hand.
On Brijuni, vegetation is almost as curious as the wildlife. Although mainly Mediterranean with pines, oaks and laurels, the land has been tamed into English-style parklands and there are exotic tangerine groves -- another of Tito's legacies. However, it is the crystal clear sea that is irresistible, dazzling the eye and tempting you at every turn. What's more, every inch of the island's stony coastline is a potential private beach. After Princess Caroline's arrival, my little crab beach didn't quite have the same allure so I cycled round to the public one. It has a restaurant and an ancient blue slide which whizzes you into the water at great speed. The sea is always warm -- around 22¡C to 25¡C but sometimes the heat can be too much of a good thing. If I was a golf fanatic I'd be tempted to have a round on the island's magnificent course, but instead I decide to explore the various ruins. Around the corner from slide beach is what's left of the Temple of Venus opposite an ancient wool mill, Roman villa and what looks like an early spa pool. The most impressive and spectacular ruins are those of the Byzantine Castrum, a walled town by the sea inhabited until the 16th Century. I wonder if it was here that James Joyce celebrated his 23rd birthday back in 1904. He was staying in nearby Pula and visited Brijuni briefly before fleeing to Trieste in the wake of spying allegations.
Joyce's spirit also lives on in the form of the Ulysses Theatre company who put on several open-air shows during the summer, a la Ricky Demarco, on neighbouring Mali Brijuni. I decide to check out their version of Shakespeare's King Lear and make the short ferry trip back to Fazana on the mainland to catch the boat for the island.
During Austro-Hungarian occupation, several fortresses were built in the area, and the one on Mali Brijuni is impressive -- a perfect backdrop for Lear's realm. Used for storing ammunition, the castle-like structure has a railway line that runs from the harbour right inside the building winding its way up through dark tunnels to the top. Here an amphitheatre with its sweeping sea views, makes a spectacular setting for the closing scenes of the play.
There was a rumour that Princess Caroline was going to attend the performance, but she doesn't show up. Maybe she was still trying to chose which part of Brijuni she might acquire for her island kingdom. For the sake of everyone who enjoys this island paradise, I hope she stays on her boat. If she did build a holiday home on Brijuni, the island would probably revert to rich and famous status again which would be a great pity. Or perhaps she had looked at the weather forecast.
That night a Bora swept the island along with lashings of rain and groaning thunder. The next morning Reverie was gone and crab beach looked quite desolate. Indeed, the boat had became so much a part of the scenery I wondered if Princess Caroline was stalking me. On the way home via Trieste, I strolled down to the harbour before dinner only to find the Reverie tied up at the wharf. If I'd known she was heading in the same direction, I would have hitched a lift. Maybe next time.
31 August 2003
