Italians are genuinely fed up with tourists. They have grown weary of American summer visitors who flock to their boot-shaped nation and disrupt their daily lives with boundless enthusiasm.

Selfies are prohibited in Portofino, Venice has restricted large cruise ships and will soon impose a fee on day-trippers, the Amalfi Coast has outlawed tourist buses, Rome has banned sitting on the Spanish Steps, and Cinque Terre is fining $2,800 for the scandalous act of wearing flip-flops. Last year in Florence, locals resorted to graffiti telling visitors to “Tourists go home!” — since subtlety often goes unnoticed.

 It’s gotten so bad, the BBC even published an article called, “Is Italy Breaking Up With You?” (Answer: kind of). 

To add to the issues, earlier this year, prior to the tourism rush, hordes of tourists swarmed a tiny Italian town, and later on, the US government issued a travel advisory for Italy due to concerns about terrorism.

So what’s an Italophile to do? 

Head east, my friends, to Istria, the Croatian peninsula that was once a part of the Italian empire for over 600 years, and still holds eerily similar charms — vineyards, truffles, Italian and Roman ruins — with one exception: Istrians not only welcome visitors, they are doing everything they can to attract them.

And, as of the past year, several luxury hotels have opened on the coast of the Adriatic — including several luxury offerings on former Croatian dictator Josep Brod Tito’s (formerly) private Brijuni Islands (which includes the remnant animals of his former private zoo).

On my last birthday, I decided to visit an old friend, Zrinka Marinovic, who runs Tailored Croatia, and specializes in luxury tours of Croatia. As Zrinka lives and works as a luxury travel advisor in the country and is therefore the master, I let her plan my trip sight unseen — and it was a game changer.

I landed in Zagreb, a miniature Vienna which is walkable and architecturally (and culturally) fascinating as half of the city is from the Hapsburg empire — and half built during the Communist regime. 

After checking into Zagreb’s historic Hotel Esplanade, I took the Yugo tour of the city (my guide swore by the old Yugoslavian cars, once dubbed the world’s worst), visited the Museum of Broken Relationships (an alternatively heartbreaking and hilarious museum full of the detritus of former loves), and day tripped to hauntingly empty airbases and homes of Tito which are dotted throughout the country. (The former dictator refused to stay in hotels and would, instead, build or appropriate homes across Yugoslavia, some of which were only visited once or twice in Tito’s lifetime). 

After celebrating my birthday inside the Esplanade’s sumptuous spa, my friend Gillian met me and Zrinka whisked us off to Istria, the unique peninsula which was once ruled by Venice and Napoleon, where just a small strip of Slovenian land separates it from Italy.

But, unlike Dubrovnik or the Dalmatian islands where stars like the Beckhams, Beyoncé, Kim Kardashian, Jeff Bezos and Katy Perry have visited on superyachts, Istria is relatively undiscovered by the jet set — despite being across the Adriatic from Venice.

And thank god for that. Despite having much in common with its former homeland, Istria is full of medieval towns topping every hillside, with vineyards and truffle grounds in between — and on the coast, pure aquamarine water, with no hoards of fellow tourists or angry locals. 

Our home base for the Istrian adventure was The Grand Park Hotel in the ancient coastal town of Rovinj. Opened just a year ago, locals flock to the hotel’s Albaro Wellness spa — which has a dedicated sauna floor — as well as the two Michelin-starred Agli Amici Rovinj restaurant. Nestled at the end of the town’s harbor, the hotel offers views from almost every room of the Adriatic, the medieval town as well as the Golden Cape Forest. 

From Rovinj, Gillian and I day tripped to Pula to visit the ancient Roman arena — one of the world’s six largest surviving arenas — and ancient town hop (as I mentioned, there’s one on top of every hill in a very hilly area). In between, we went truffle hunting at Prodfan Tarufi, just outside of Buza — one of the many truffle farms in the area.

”We had no idea what (truffles) were until 1999,” Visnja Prodan told me.

That was the year Giancarlo Zigante, a local truffle hunter, found the world’s largest truffle near Buje, Istria, weighing 1.3.1 kilograms.

“Until then we had always thought they were pig food,” Prodan laughed. Since then, truffles have minted many local farming millionaires with their products being shipped all over the world. And there is no better way to enjoy the truffles than with Croatian wine.

And, not unlike its western neighbor, Croatia has spectacular wines. For a special treat, book a weekend stay The Meneghetti Hotel and Winery

Twenty minutes from Rovinj by car and located in the hillside medieval town of Bale is the Relais & Chateau hotel, where guests can stay in one of ten rustic chic rooms that overlook the vineyards and surrounding towns or in a guest residence. Guests can hike or bike through the vineyards before having a wine and olive oil tasting along with a field-to-fork meal — or hop onto the hotel’s complimentary shuttle service which will ferry you to the private Meneghetti beach club nearby. 

But while inland was even opening, the highlight of the trip by far was the Brijuni Islands — once Tito’s private playground. 

Veliki Brijuni is especially fabulous as not only are there three grand hotels on the island, as well as a couple of residences that can be rented (including one that is kept untouched from Tito’s time), it is also the home to Tito’s once private former zoo.

”Every world leader would visit and bring with them an animal from their country,” Zrinka explained. While many of these animals — including the lions, jaguars, monkeys etc — died (and then were stuffed and interred in a nearby museum), there are still zebras, ostrich, Hindu cows left … as well as one lonely old elephant.

Gillian, Zrinka and I spent a full day on this island, ferried around in Tito’s old Cadillac, and could have stayed a week. 

It was the perfect Adriatic getaway— with no crowds, and all the benefits of Italy… but without the resentment.