One crisp, mid-March morning, we strolled the lungomare from Lovzan, west towards Villa Astra and Icici, beneath handsome palms and trophy homes of its Habsburg past. Along this curious crescent of the eastern Adriatic, it was still too early for the wild asparagus but not for the sun’s energy. Our hearts rose with the scents of the sea and laurel in the air.

Lovzan is named after lauriena, the laurel tree, symbol of transformation and eternity. This meaning it owes to the legend of Apollo and Daphne, children of the gods who were parted by Cupid’s wicked arrow tips. Daphne, running from Apollo’s love, was transformed into a laurel, but Apollo swore his devotion and according to Ovid, wore the laurel thereafter. “As I am forever young, so you too shall never fade, your foliage ever green.”

A century ago, there came by Lovzan an Italian noble named Nicolo Guena – whose name means war – and here he discovered peace. As he wandered down from the spa town of Opatija in the lee of Mount Ucka, Guena sensed the energy and decided to build this neo-Gothic marvel that is today Villa Astra. Like Venetian grandees and Viennese before him, he looked out over the Kramer Gulf, breathed deeply, and smelt the laurel.

Today, Nicolo Guena has a natural successor in Vjeko Martinko, who has also travelled far, from career to calling. Here in Lovzan he has restored find buildings and hosted fine meals – of chestnuts and cherries, asparagus and scampi – and found his peace. As his guests have found the tree of transformation that is forever green.

That evening, we sat waiting for the ferry back to the mainland below Lovzan, watching the sun’s last rays fill the sea beyond Cres. We had arrived twenty found hours earlier, taut with stress. Already we were breathing freely, ready for love. Transformed.