Island hopping along the Dalmatian coast: Split, Hvar and Dubrovnik in 8 nights

We landed in Split in the afternoon and settled into the Cornaro, a four-star right next to the old town, with a rooftop that takes in half the city. The first thing we did, before even fully unpacking, was head down to the Peristyle, the heart of Diocletian's Palace. And here's what you don't grasp until you stand in it: Split doesn't have a Roman palace you visit, Split lives inside the palace. Fourth-century columns hold up cafés, the squares are imperial courtyards and people hang their washing between walls that are seventeen hundred years old. With the golden light of the late afternoon on the white stone, the Peristyle is one of those scenes that stays with you.

That first night we had dinner at Konoba Fetivi, a tavern tucked away in the old town that had been recommended to us as the real local option: peka — meat or octopus cooked slowly under an iron bell over embers — Dalmatian wine and an honest bill. The perfect welcome.

The next day we gave the morning to getting to know the city with a couple of hours on a walking tour of the Palace, the Cathedral of St Domnius (which was the emperor's own mausoleum before it was a church) and the medieval lanes. In the afternoon, a swim at Bačvice, the sandy city beach ten minutes' walk away, where the locals play picigin, that game of keeping a little ball in the water without letting it drop.

On the third day we changed islands by sea, which is how it should be done. The fast catamaran from Split harbour to Hvar takes barely fifty minutes, and in July there are departures at almost every hour; we booked it online a few days ahead so as not to gamble on the high-season capacity. Arriving in Hvar Town by sea, with its red roofs tumbling down towards a harbour full of sailing boats, is worth the ticket on its own.

We stayed at the Adriana, right on the seafront promenade, with an infinity pool on the rooftop where you look out over the Adriatic while the town lights up below. In the afternoon we walked up to the Španjola fortress, a thirteenth-century fortification that crowns the town: it's about fifteen minutes uphill and you get there just in time for sunset. From the top you can see the Pakleni islands cut out against a sea that shifts from turquoise to violet as the sun goes down. Take water and comfortable shoes, because the last stretch is steep and in July the heat is still fierce at that hour.

Hvar was our stretch of sea and calm, and we gave it three nights on purpose. The star day is the Pakleni islands: a taxi boat leaves from Hvar harbour itself and in a few minutes drops you in an archipelago of crystal-clear coves, perfect for swimming and snorkelling. We spent the morning hopping from cove to cove with a picnic, and on the way back we lingered over a long lunch at Dva Ribara — "the two fishermen" — a tavern overlooking the harbour where the grilled seafood, the griddled cuttlefish and the lobster taste even better with the midday sun on the water.

We set aside another day for the island's interior, which almost nobody sees and which in July is pure postcard: the lavender fields in bloom around the villages of Brusje and Velo Grablje, that purple tone combing the hillsides and the whole air smelling of lavender. Hvar is the sunniest island in the Adriatic and you notice it the moment you move away from the coast. On the last night we treated ourselves to dinner at Dalmatino, one of the favourite tables of locals and critics alike: market-driven Dalmatian cooking, island wines and service you can feel. It's one of those you have to book days ahead in high season, so get it pencilled in before you arrive.

The crossing from Hvar to Dubrovnik is the longest of the trip — a seasonal catamaran of about three hours — and, far from being a chore, it's a spectacle: the boat hugs the Dalmatian coast, leaving behind islands and villages hanging over the sea. In July the catamaran fills up, so it pays to book ahead; we sorted it online with plenty of margin to secure a seat and a sailing time.

In Dubrovnik we stayed at the Hotel Stari Grad, a tiny boutique of barely eight rooms inside the walls of the Old Town, in a sixteenth-century building a few steps from the Stradun. Sleeping within the walls changes the trip: when the cruise ships leave at dusk, the city is almost yours. The first stroll, as the afternoon faded, was along the Stradun, the main limestone street so polished by the centuries that it shines like a mirror. We had a light dinner nearby, at Kamenice, on Gundulić Square, famous for its fresh oysters and fried squid, with that lively market atmosphere the square has at nightfall.

Dubrovnik's star plan is walking the medieval walls that ring the Old Town, about two kilometres of elevated promenade with the sea on one side and the maze of red roofs on the other. Here's the tip we were most grateful for: in July you have to get up early. The walls open first thing, and doing them right at opening means dodging both the heat — which on the stone at midday is brutal — and the cruise-ship crowds, which arrive in a block mid-morning. At that early hour, with the soft light and the city half asleep, the walk is something else entirely.

In the afternoon we literally flipped the perspective with a sea-kayaking trip: you set off from the Pile gate and skirt the walls from the water, stopping at the Betina cave for a swim and a bit of snorkelling. Seeing Dubrovnik from below, with the walls dropping sheer into the Adriatic and the sun sinking towards the island of Lokrum, is an image very few tourists take home. That night we had dinner at Konoba Bonaca, an authentic tavern near the centre, one of the few that keep sensible prices within the walls: fish gregada, prawn pasta and wine from the Pelješac peninsula.

We left the last full day to simmer gently, no alarms. There are two equally good plans depending on how you feel: a boat trip to the island of Lokrum, ten minutes from the Old Town, an islet of pine woods, free-roaming peacocks and coves for a swim away from the bustle; or up by cable car to Mount Srđ, the hill that towers over Dubrovnik, for that postcard view of the walled city on the blue, especially lovely at sunset. We went for Lokrum in the morning and rode up Srđ at the end of the day, which isn't cheating: it stretched to both.

We had our farewell dinner at a konoba, in no rush, toasting with a Dalmatian wine to a trip that had come out perfectly. The next morning, a transfer to Dubrovnik airport and the flight back to Madrid. The open-jaw kept its promise: we closed the circle without retracing a single kilometre.

A couple of things we were glad to have clear before leaving. First: no car. Parking in the Dalmatian historic centres is a torment, the hotels are inside pedestrian and walled zones, and the ferries do the job far better. Split→Hvar is about fifty minutes with masses of departures in July, and Hvar→Dubrovnik a catamaran of around three hours hugging the coast. In high season, book the tickets online (Jadrolinija and Kapetan Luka are the operators; ferryhopper.com aggregates schedules and seats) so you don't get left out.

Paperwork: Croatia is in the European Union and the Schengen area, so for a short tourist stay your valid ID card or passport is enough; even so, confirm it on the official country sheet before travelling and carry a document with plenty of validity. The European health card covers emergency care, but not repatriation or cancellations, and with two ferries and a return flight from a different airport, good insurance brings peace of mind. On the weather: July is peak beach season on the Adriatic — guaranteed sunny days, warm water and strong heat at midday — so sun protection, water and a hat, and save the walls and hikes for first or last thing. As Croatia is in the EU, your phone works on roaming with your Spanish plan; if your operator caps data, an eSIM takes the problem away and is perfect for checking ferry times on the go.