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Waterfalls, Chanterelles and the Wild Side of Istria

Around Hrvoji, Istria reveals itself quietly: through hidden streams, wild paths, sudden waterfalls, edible plants, forest shade and places that feel almost unknown, even to those who live nearby.

In the summer of 2014, the rain had changed the landscape.

It was not the dry, golden Istria that many people imagine. The season had been wet, and because of that, the streams and waterfalls around Hrvoji were alive. Water moved through places that are sometimes silent. Pools filled. Green returned. The hidden parts of the landscape became worth visiting again.

In the days before, volunteers had already visited Veli Vir and Slapoc, two beautiful waterfalls in the area. But one afternoon, Janez and Milan decided to explore somewhere closer and less known: the Pasjak stream, which runs below the village.

They began in Topolovec, walked down towards the Dragonja river, and then followed the Pasjak upstream from the place where it meets the Dragonja.

It was not a marked tourist route. There were no signs announcing what would appear next. That was part of the beauty of it.

A field of chanterelles

The first surprise came almost immediately.

Near the Dragonja, they came across an entire field of chanterelles. The mushrooms were there in front of them, bright and generous, one of those small gifts the forest offers after rain.

But they had no basket.

So they left them where they were, as Janez wrote, “for seed”. It is a small detail, but a very Park Istra detail. Not every discovery needs to become something we take. Sometimes noticing is enough. Sometimes the best way to receive something from nature is to let it remain.

From there, they continued along the stream.

After only a few minutes of walking, the first waterfall appeared: a beautiful overhanging fall dropping into a pool below.

Milan jumped in immediately.

Janez waited a little longer. He had heard that Pasjak had more to offer, and curiosity pulled him further upstream.

Following the water

Higher up, the view opened onto more pools and cascades. Water murmured over stone, gathering in clear basins before moving on. Then another waterfall appeared. And after that, another.

This is the kind of landscape that cannot be understood from a road.

You have to walk into it slowly. You have to accept wet feet, scratches, insects, silence, and the possibility of not knowing exactly where the path is. You have to follow the sound of water and let the land reveal itself step by step.

The Pasjak stream was beautiful, but it was not easy. Around the waterfalls there was no proper trail. To continue, they had to push through dense vegetation, including butcher’s broom, a prickly plant related to asparagus. It is also edible, but as Janez noted, that is another story.

The detail makes the walk feel alive. This was not a polished excursion. It was a small exploration: part hike, part scramble, part discovery.

Inland Istria often has this quality. Its most beautiful places are not always obvious. They are hidden under trees, behind villages, below roads, between terraces, along streams, or inside landscapes that seem quiet from far away.

The Istria behind the postcard

Many people think of Istria through the coast: the Adriatic Sea, stone towns, summer light, beaches, and the movement of tourists between familiar places.

But Park Istra was born in another Istria.

This Istria is inland, rural, sometimes forgotten, and full of small wonders. It has waterfalls, abandoned paths, old terraces, dry stone walls, wild herbs, springs, ponds, forests, and villages where silence can be as present as sound.

For volunteers, discovering this landscape is part of the experience. They do not only come to work. They come to enter a place, to understand it through walking, weather, effort, local stories, and contact with the land.

A walk to a waterfall can teach something that a brochure cannot.

It teaches that the region is fragile and rich at the same time. It teaches that beauty does not always ask for attention. It teaches that places can be valuable even when they are not famous.

It also teaches responsibility.

When you know a landscape only as a visitor, it is easy to consume it. When you know it through work, community, and repeated walks, you begin to care for it differently.

Nature as part of daily life

In Park Istra, nature has never been treated as something separate from everyday life.

It is part of the work, part of the education, part of the free time, and part of the reason the project exists. Volunteers help with paths, gardens, farms, old wells, drywalls, clean-up actions, protected areas, and local heritage. But they also swim in natural pools, pick figs, discover waterfalls, walk through forests and learn the names of plants.

These experiences connect practical work with affection.

It is easier to protect a place once you have felt attached to it. It is easier to understand why a path matters after walking it. It is easier to value a stream after following it through the shade and seeing the life around it.

The Pasjak walk was a small moment in the early story of Park Istra, but it captures something important: the project was never only about buildings, volunteer hours, or organised actions.

It was also about falling in love with the land.

A landscape that reveals itself slowly

Not every important story at Park Istra is about a big action.

Some stories are simply about walking.

Walking below a village. Walking beside water. Walking without knowing exactly what will appear next. Walking until the landscape, which seemed ordinary from above, opens into pools and waterfalls.

These moments matter because they shape the way people belong to a place.

For the volunteers and people connected to Park Istra, Istria was not only a background to the project. It was a teacher. It taught through weather, stone, mud, plants, water, silence and effort.

The Pasjak stream, with its chanterelles, hidden pools and prickly paths, reminds us that the richness of Istria is often quiet. It does not always announce itself. It waits for someone to slow down enough to notice.

And when someone does, the land gives back.

A field of mushrooms left for another day. A cold pool beneath a waterfall. A path that is not really a path. A memory of water moving through a wet summer.

A small adventure below Hrvoji, and another reason to care for this place.