Camping Bi Village Pula, Croatia

Later, of course, in the early 1990s, the region suffered the cataclysmic effects of the collapse of communism, a bitter war and the struggle for independence.

Happily, it is now reborn as a safe and welcoming country, with a great climate, scenery and, especially in Istria which of all its regional neighbours suffered the least during the war, a fascinating mix of central and southern European cultures. Nowhere more so than Rovinj, mirroring its Italian cousins across the water with Venetian-style houses, an Italian high school and bilingual street signs. Now back on Croatian soil with my own family - wife Anna and children James, 15, and Edward, nine - I had flown with Ryanair out of Stansted.

Our base was a Thomson Al Fresco mobile home, with air-conditioning, in the beachside camp site of Bi Village, a short drive from Pula and 35 miles south of Porec, facing Tito¿s famous Brijuni Islands..

It's a large, busy site, with a mix of tents, mobile homes and chalet-type accommodation, but we soon became acclimatised to the 10- minute or so stroll to the shingle beach from our pitch.

There is every facility you could wish for on a family holiday, including three swimming pools, games room, football pitch, three restaurants, gift shops and supermarket, cabaret shows and an indoor disco for over-16s. And, for a bit of pampering, there's a hairdresser and the opportunity of a hot stone massage, although it was the on-site doctor who proved more useful to us when our elder son suffered an ear infection early in our stay. One of the first things that struck us was how few Brits there were compared to Germans, Dutch and Italians, evidenced in the limited selection of English papers in the site¿s shops. This only served to heighten the sense of ourselves as explorers as we toured the area, choosing on our first night to take a beautiful sunset stroll along the beach to the nearby fishing village of Fazana, best known as the gateway to the offshore Brijuni Islands but a gem of a place in its own right.

The streets were in fiesta mood when we arrived, with early evening visitors soaking up the atmosphere of a lights festival that saw ubiquitous tea lights taking the strain as the sun set and a live concert started up in the main square. Despite the throng we managed to find outdoor seats at an idyllically positioned restaurant 'the Marina' with fancily dressed stilt-walkers adding to the pleasure of people-watching as promenaders passed by.

The next morning, we took a short drive to the rocky beach of Barbariga for a spot of snorkelling before heading off to the port city of Pula for one of the must-sees that we'd planned.

The Romans arrived in the city in 177BC and left a string of remains, the most impressive being the huge grey coronet of the amphitheatre which dominates the skyline. Dating back to the first century BC, it's the sixth largest in the world. Though only a small part of the seating remains - the limestone long since used by locals to build their own homes - the outer shell is strikingly intact, considering the passage of time. We strolled around at our own pace, with handsets that told of its history as we explored the underground rooms where wild animals and Christians were kept before they met their fates.

Apparently, I'd visited the amphitheatre before, on that first trip to Pula in the early 1970s. While wandering among its shadows, a text popped up from my mother saying she¿d found the photographic proof - although I've no memory of the place! In case time should pull the same rug from under younger son Edward, I took plenty of photos to record our visit.

Other evidence of the Romans can be found throughout Pula, among them the iconic temple of Augustus, with its Corinthian columns, on the site of the Forum, now the old quarter¿s main square.

Returning to the campsite, and fired up for more cultural history, we booked a boat excursion to Venice. Again I was retracing my steps, although in this instance I do remember the same trip out of Pula to this most famous of cities all those years ago.

It's not a cheap day out: the cost for the four of us at today's prices works out at a little over £200, and there's lunch and an optional gondola or water taxi trip on top.

Collected early morning by a coach from the campsite, we boarded the boat at Pula from where we departed for Venice, arriving late morning for a pre-booked lunch.

Following our tour guide to the restaurant, his yellow umbrella bizarrely held aloft in the manner of John from Peter Pan, I found the snaking crowds just as I remembered them. In truth it¿s impossible to do justice to the city on just a day trip and there was no time to queue to see the golden glories inside St Mark's Basilica.

But we did squeeze in a gondola trip, expertly guided along the narrow canals and out into the crescendo of the Grand Canal by a swaggering gondolier like some black cab driver cum fairground hand, and we found our own way to the Rialto.

With the hour of our departure fast approaching, I turned to what everyone does in Venice, frantically snapping photos of the renaissance buildings like some mad lepidopterist netting butterflies. And, oh, for one of James Bond's flint-nosed motor launches as we raced back along labyrinthine paths, up and over bridges, back to the port, crumpled map in hand, to make sure we didn't miss the boat.

All that said, the day was truly wonderful and James declared it the most memorable place he'd visited. Ever. A good outcome, then (but I've got the photos just in case!) Our final view of the romantic city was of cranes standing on barges like dinosaur skeletons - part of Project Moses, a mighty engineering scheme to halt the effects of winter flooding.

Next on our excursion list was a short boat trip from Fazana to the Brijuni Islands, an archipelago that became famous as a retreat for President Tito before gaining national park status and opening to tourists in 1983. Visitors are allowed on only two of the islands, Mali Brijun and Veli Brijun, and it was at the latter that our boat docked, amid aquarium-clear waters.

A road train takes you on a tour of the island, with its safari park, Roman remains and, perhaps most poetic, a simple olive tree dating back to the fourth century that, amazingly, still produces a small amount of olive oil. Roped off like a prop from some old Hollywood epic, you can also pose for photos beside the shiny black 1953 Cadillac in which Tito chauffered the likes of Sophia Loren, Elizabeth Taylor, Fidel Castro, Queen Elizabeth and Nikita Khrushchev around his Adriatic getaway.

Beach-wise, Istria tends to the rocky or shingle variety - even, in places, concreted slabs. All of which suited me fine, as the snorkelling was superior to any found in sandier regions of the Med. Just remember your beach shoes, insurance against both stones and sea urchins, although we came across fewer of the latter than I remember from those childhood holidays.

The jewel in the crown was the beach we found at the peninsula of Premantura, not far from Pula on the southern tip of Istria. Also called Cape Kamenjak, it's a protected landscape with numerous stunning bays. We paid a few kuna as an entrance fee, parked up and, after lunch at a magical safarithemed bar tucked away amid a forest of bamboo with adventure play equipment and delicious home-made lemonade, we took the short path to a rocky beach for a welcome dip in lens-clear waters.

The next day, taking a break from the beach, we drove north for a day-long tour of Istria¿s inland hilltop towns and villages. Away from the coastal hotels and apartments, this was another world. Perhaps the most well-known town is Motovun, whose medieval charm is complemented today by its popularity as an artists' colony.

Beram, approached via a road whose twisty contours were reminiscent of those battery buzz-wire games that test the steadiness of the hand, was where Francesco da Mosto in his recent BBC TV series stopped off to see the magnificent sacred fresco the Dance of Death in a chapel a kilometre out of the village. I'm ashamed to say that, with the light fading and the 'buzz' of the road becoming `buzzier¿, we gave up the ghost before reaching the chapel. Besides, I told the children, we hadn¿t phoned ahead to the keyholder as had been advised in the guidebooks.

The final day of our holiday was spent back at the campsite, with the boys clamouring for 'just one more go' on their new-found passion, a game of lads versus dad football in a watersloshed net 'cage' in which the main aim was to slide tackle your opponent as dramatically as possible wearing TV Gladiator-style helmets. Ho hum.

That, and a last stop at the shop to stock up on 'clackers' - remember them from the early 1970s? Well, around the campsite, the vintage hazard that ended up being banned from school playgrounds around Britain became the soundtrack of the holiday. And, as the boys packed them away to demonically introduce to a whole new generation of their pals back home, it seemed rather apt really. The distinctive sound of them, like cicadas on steroids, took me right back to that first holiday in the sun all those years ago in the early - 70s.

14 nights for two adults and up to four children sharing a Rossini luxury mobile home at Bi Village, Pula, Croatia arriving between June 13 and 19, 2009, is £515 (terms and conditions apply). To book call 0871 231 3292. See www.thomsonalfresco.co.uk

For flights to Pula from Stansted see www.ryanair.com.

Long-stay Stansted parking is open all year round. A courtesy terminal transfer service runs every 20 minutes and the trip takes 10 to 15 minutes (journey time may be longer at peak times). Daily roll-up rate is £8.80 per 24 hours, or part thereof. www.stanstedairport.com/parking or telephone 0870 850 2825.

Following an evening stroll and sundowners in Oludeniz, we return to the blue door of Beyaz Yunus that conceals its wonderful riad-like oasis. Oil lamps have been lit in alcoves and the bright Turkish colours of the day have now softened and become more muted, like the landscape. We chat with a couple of guests at the pool bar and then drift down to yet another terrace where other guests are staring equally dreamily seawards as they await their first course.

There is no menu at Beyaz Yunus, only pleasant surprises. Mustafa, the attentive and brilliant manager, checks ahead that each guest is happy with that night's suggested dishes (and always provides an alternative if it isn't greeted with wholehearted enthusiasm). Notwithstanding the advance warning, each evening is still a revelation as to what Turkish cuisine conjures from barbecue meats, grilled red mullet, or a lobster dish.

Having spent a week doing very little at Beyaz Yunus, we transfer to do very little at our second new oasis, the Deniz Feneri Lighthouse, where we exchange the stylish rustic of Beyaz Yunus for contemporary minimalist. The villa-style, local limestone apartments are scattered across a precipitous grassed hillside just a slingshot from Turkey¿s prettiest coastal town, Kas. The suites closest to the water are circular, designed like lighthouse towers, and come with balconies upstairs and wrap-around terraces below. There are no TVs at Deniz Feneri: a holiday here is all about feeding the eyes a healthier diet. Waking, you fling back the curtains to watch from your balcony the sea gently waking in the protected bay. Over breakfast on the al fresco terrace above the infinity pool, there's as much time as you want for staring up into the riven gorges of theTaurus mountains. The rest of the morning can then be spent watching fellow guests swimming, snorkelling andcanoeingfrom the rock platforms; you may even snatch a glimpse of George, the veteran local turtle, visiting from its nearby cave (we did, twice). And finally, as the day wanes, you watch spellbound as the sun slowly sinks out at sea and signals your ascent back up the stairs for cocktails and dinner.

he Deniz Feneri seems to attract a younger crowd, late twenties and early thirties mostly, who take it in their stride to be offered a glass of champagne with their first breakfast andcope manfully with the sometimes brutalist minimalism of the rooms (I would have preferred paintings and someTurkish colour in rugs and cushions). It is, however, stunningly beautiful: sensational vistas, rock walls, geraniums, hibiscus, rose, scrub olives, and nooks and crannies to disappear into for another angle on the sublime meeting of land and sea.

Nasrim, the Turkish Cypriot manager, and his Dutchwife, Linda, take Turkish hospitality seriously, as if inviting you into their own home. Nothing is too much bother. The food, meanwhile, is Turkish with a gastro-pub twist. The chicken kebab with roasted beetroot on a bed of lentils was excellent and the appley custard dessert tasted like the very best strudel with a cinnamon twist. The salads all make use of the freshest local produce and tangy dressings; and there are plenty of clay oven and barbecue dishes, succulent lamb casseroles, sea bass and bream, calamari and prawns.

While Beyaz Yunus is more intimate, Deniz Feneri has a chic beauty and the additional advantage of having Kas on its shoulder with its artisan and clothes shops, as well as a bevy of impressive restaurants. Deniz Feneri and Beyaz Yunus both have perfected the art of transmitting a sense of enormous wellbeing. I swore I'd never become one of those homing holidaymakers who annually return to the same destination but I am already beginning to feel a strong pull eastwards.

The old, fortified hilltop towns and ice-cream coloured buildings draw comparisons with Tuscany, then there are the truffles. Visitor numbers from the UK are edging closer to the pre-war highs of 1990, but Italians, Germans, Austrians and the Dutch were quick to return and they are now joined by sunseekers from the former Eastern bloc. Fazana, just north of Pula, the main Istrian port, is no stranger to exotic visitors. For decades, the Brijuni archipelago was the secluded presidential retreat of Josip Broz, aka Tito, the Communist partisan who made Yugoslavia a beacon for the non-aligned after defying Joseph Stalin over the Soviet invasion of Hungary in 1956. Until Tito's death in 1980, the villagers of Fazana saw a procession of monarchs, presidents and movie stars ferried by luxury speedboat across the three kilometres to the president's villa on Veli Brijun, the largest of the 14 islands. Fidel Castro, Liz Taylor and Richard Burton, Leonid Brezhnev, Gina Lollobrigida, Ho Chi Minh; and Sophia Loren; they all came through here, though not necessarily together.

Tito loved Fazana. He spent six months here every year and left Belgrade to run itself. And the locals loved having him. They still tell, with spadefuls of nostalgia, of how this giant of the cold war would give his security menthe slip and slope off in the small hours to join the fishermen at work. Today, you can stay at two hotels onVeli or rent a villa. Otherwise, public access to the National Park is restricted to guided tours or anyone who can pay ¤800 (£724) a day to moor a yacht. You can even hire Marshal Tito¿s official 1950s Cadillac (for ¤700 an hour). One group of Russians took it for the whole day. It's nice to see how the oligarchs live.

There's a golf course, bicycle hire, museum, and a declining safari park where two elephants, given as babies to Tito by Indira Gandhi, still live. It became customary for dignitaries to bring animals for Tito's burgeoning personal zoo. Princess Margaret brought him some Shetland ponies. Our mainland base, on the Bi Village campsite, had simpler charms. Its three swimming pools can get crowded but it has more than half a mile of beach with pedalo hire, scuba diving and windsurfing. Thomson Al Fresco mobile homes are comfortable, well designed and have air-conditioning that is a godsend as temperatures climb through the thirties Celsius. It is a woodland site, so there's some shade, but the risk of fire means only gas and electric barbecues are allowed. The mobiles have good ovens and microwaves but there's nothing like the whiff of charcoal for once-ayear campers like myself.

Bi Village does have two excellent beachside restaurants with live music in the evening. And there's a pizzeria, coffee bar and gelateria. The on-site shop is toopricey for anything but staples and emergencies but there are plenty of large supermarkets a short drive away.

The best day trips include Pula, with good shopping in narrow, shaded, cobbled streets and the sixth-largest survivingRoman amphitheatre. Despite the big, metal stage and lighting gantries for the regular concerts held there, it's still possible to conjure an image of 23,000 people roaring on the gladiatorial strife as well as the less competitive spectacle of Christians taking on the big cats.

Drive north for 30 minutes and you come to Rovinj, a picturesque port with hilltop town of 13th and 14thcentury streets packed with artists - studios and craft shops. They wind upto the church of St Euphemia. Her remains were brought herewhen invaders threatened Constantinople where she was martyred by the Emperor Diocletian - a tough soldier, prodigious killer of Christians, and a local boy made good (he was born in Solin in modern Croatia).

The Venetians were here for 400 years and have left a deep imprint on the culture. The Lion of St Mark is to be seen wherever you go. At Motovun, a delightful medieval fortress town raised high in the middle of a sweeping valley, that influence was everywhere right down to the Italian names in the tiny graveyard. This place hosts an annual film festival which attracts 50,000 visitors, but the people here are used to invaders.

Driving inland through Istria in the summer is surprisingly relaxing. The roads are good, if high and winding. These verdant forested hills are proof indeed that when it does rain in Istria it must do so with gusto. As well as a defining moment, every holiday should also throw up a killer fact that you'll never forget. So, here goes, there is no word in Croatian for 'drizzle.

HOW TO GET THERE Thomson Al Fresco (0871 231 3293; thomsonalfresco.co.uk) offers seven nights at Bi Village in Croatia from a total of £492 in May for two adults and up to four children sharing a Rossini mobile home. Fourteen nights, from 16 June, cost a total of £1,595, with flights from Gatwick.

FURTHER INFORMATION Croatia National Tourist Board (020- 8563 7979; croatia.hr).