Located on the southeast side of the island of Krk, Croatia, this trail offers probably one of the most exciting hikes on the same island.
Most people visit the island of Krk during the summer holidays to enjoy sunbathing, swimming, exploring the town of Krk and other smaller places, and indulging in good food and drink. Many do not realize that Krk also offers numerous hiking trails well worth exploring.
Hiking in the summer can be tiring due to the scorching sun, but the island is ideal for hiking in the cooler months of winter or early spring. During these seasons, the trails that stretch across almost all parts of the island provide a perfect opportunity to enjoy the sun and the scent of the sea in a more comfortable climate.
A Slow Walk Through Time: Hiking to Vela and Mala Luka on the Island of Krk
The island of Krk is often associated with summer crowds, salt on the skin, and the laughter of holidaymakers scattered across the beaches of Baška. But there is another Krk that exists when the summer quiets down and the air smells of wild herbs and sea spray. This is the Krk of slow steps, stone paths, forgotten ruins, and wide horizons. And there is no better place to feel it than the hike to Vela and Mala Luka.
Where the Trail Begins: Above Baška, in the Embrace of Silence
Our trail starts humbly, just above the Bunculuka campsite, where pine meets rock and the sea still whispers below. In the off-season, it’s a quiet place. We parked near the entrance and took to the path with no hurry, the day stretching before us like a slow exhale.
The way winds gently along the edge of the campsite and then begins to rise. A first short climb rewards you with a sweeping view back over Baška, where the church of St. John perches watchfully on the ridge. It’s worth pausing here. The day will give you time.
Cliffs, Canyons, and Coastal Solitude
From the ascent, we drop again—this rhythm of climbing and falling is a motif of the trail. The sea appears now and again, framed by limestone cliffs and speckled with wind. After about an hour, we reach Vrženica Beach, where pebbles shimmer like scales under shallow water.
At the signpost, we turn left into the Vrženica Canyon. Here, the land folds inwards, narrowing into a cleft of karst stone and stubborn shrubs. The sun is often blocked by canyon walls, and the way is uneven and raw. It asks for careful steps and clear minds. In spring, yellow flowers surprise you around bends. In summer, snakes may warm themselves here. It is a living place, demanding respect.
Eventually, the canyon lets go. We emerge into more open terrain, the sea forgotten for now as we wander inland. Here, the path splits. One branch loops back to Baška. We continue the other way, heading for Vela Luka.
Above the Bays: Views to Still the Breath
The climb is gentle but persistent. We follow dry-stone walls, centuries old, and pastures where sheep graze. And then, like an ancient secret unveiled, the twin bays of Vela and Mala Luka appear far below. The sea is suddenly there again, impossibly blue and untouched. This is a place that has held its breath for millennia.
The descent is steep and not to be rushed. Stones shift. Paths narrow. But at every pause, there is sky and sea and stillness. And eventually, your feet touch sand.
Vela Luka: A Quiet Edge of the World
Vela Luka stretches wide and calm, its beach framed by hills and the soft sigh of waves. Out of season, it is utterly empty. We sat in the sand, watched seabirds glide, and heard only the wind. There is a water spring here. And ruins of old structures—shelters, maybe, or salt storage. Everything here feels like memory.
Nearby, the path continues to Mala Luka. It’s a short, gentle walk. On the way, you pass the remnants of Corinthia Fort. This is no casual ruin but a layered story of Illyrians, Byzantines, and forgotten legends. From the hilltop, the view opens toward Senj and Velebit across the channel. Time feels thin here, the past pressing close.
Mala Luka: Ruins and Reverence
At Mala Luka, the ancient lower settlement once spread across a vast area. Today, stone foundations sleep in grass, and the wind carries whispers through church remains and sheep pens. We wandered quietly, letting our imaginations walk ahead of us.
There is a legend here. A pirate ship. A red star in the sky. A city burned. The fort abandoned. Perhaps true, perhaps not. But standing here with the sun low and the wind steady, the story felt real enough.
The Return: A Ridge and a Falling Light
We chose the shorter trail back to Baška. It climbs from the bay and loops inland, avoiding the canyon. The ascent is steep at first, then flattens into a wide ridge path. Sheep trails crisscross the land. The scent of thyme floats up. The light fades slowly.
As we approached the end of the trail, Baška reappeared below—now golden in the afternoon sun. We reached the viewpoint above Bunculuka just as the sky turned soft pink.
Final Thoughts: The Beauty of Less Distance and More Time
This trail is not long. About 10 kilometres, depending on your choices. But it is filled with layers: stone, sea, sky, ruin, silence. Each step invites you to slow down and see more.
In summer, these bays fill with boats and beach towels. But in spring or late autumn, they return to what they have always been—quiet thresholds between land and sea, story and stone.
And for the hiker who values presence over pace, that is more than enough.