Pomalo: Living In Reverse

Both my grandfathers had businesses on the island of Ugljan, Croatia. My maternal grandfather owned one of only two boats that transported passengers from the village of Preko to Zadar in the 1950s. It was a rudimentary fishing vessel where passengers stood for the entire journey (see photo).

My paternal grandfather (also from the same island), the youngest brother in his family, was “stuck” building his home by the sea—less desirable than the more valuable land up in the hills. He briefly turned it into a restaurant in the 1930s. This year, the building turns 100 years old (see photo).

I remember thinking, as a kid, how barren and backward the village seemed. Donkeys were common. Olive oil was a staple. Stores were small and intimate, with someone serving you from behind the counter. Many older women carried clothing in large pots balanced on their heads to wash them on the rocky seashore (see the 1960s photo below).

My grandparents are no longer around, but if you had told them that the village they grew up in would one day become a major summer tourist destination, they would have thought you were crazy. They worked 12-hour days, tilling land and fishing. The sea wasn’t for leisure—it was for survival. Swimming for pleasure? Rare. Today, the Zadar-Preko ferry is one of the busiest in the Adriatic.

And yet, despite this transformation, the village hasn’t lost its charm. Each summer, when I arrive on the island, my friends and cousins have to remind me: “Where exactly are you rushing to?” It always takes me a while to slow down.

There’s a word you’ll often hear the locals say: pomalo. Its literal translation is take it slow. The closest English equivalent might be take it easy, but even that doesn’t quite capture the essence. As one of our family friends once observed, “Everyone on the island lives in reverse.” That, to me, is the spirit of pomalo.

On Ugljan, it’s perfectly normal to sip an espresso for two hours, chatting about nothing in particular and simply taking in the view. (If you're used to your Starbucks or Tim Hortons coffee routines, this might sound impossible.)

It’s in this context that I had originally planned to continue writing my blog. I had it all mapped out. But my body—and the island itself—said otherwise.

Pomalo. Not so fast.

We often hear about the need for balance in life, but I think that idea misses the point. Entrepreneurs know that building something meaningful often requires full effort and long hours. Forcing balance in the middle of that can feel like a conflict.

At the same time, many entrepreneurs struggle to fully unplug: “I just check a few emails while I’m away,” they say. But I’ve come to believe more in harmony than balance. Harmony respects the natural ebb and flow of life and work. It allows for complete pauses when needed: a true stepping away. A full emptying of the mind, body, and soul.

Living in reverse. Pomalo.

It’s amazing how recharged I feel when I return to Canada after my time on the island. And there’s an added bonus: deep gratitude.

It’s true—donkeys don’t play hockey. But as a first-generation Canadian of Croatian descent, I feel incredibly fortunate to have two homes that shape me—each with its own rhythm, flavour, history, and meaning.

My blog can wait.

My soul needs this.

Living in reverse has its benefits.

My maternal grandfather's makeshift passenger boat in the 1950s

The Preko-Zadar Ferry, one of the busiest on the Adriatic.

Preko, Ugljan in the 1960s. Notice the women carrying a pail on her head; time to do the laundry!

Preko today. My grandfather's three storey house in beige, far left. Happy century of a building!

The first Hilton Hotel on a Croatian island that opened this year in Preko.