Thursday, September 27, 2012

S-love


Did you know that Slovenia is made up of 70% forest, 13% rocky mountain stuff and 17% other? Did you know Ljubljana had a big fence around it during the Second World War and was effectively a giant prison? Did you know Ljubljana was the capital of Slovenia? Did you know there was a country called Slovenia? If not, don’t worry, you won’t be alone. Tucked quietly away between Italy, Austria, and the Balkans, it’s a composite of Alpine drama, baroque extravagance, socialist enterprise and cabbage themed food. It’s really quite lovely.

My first few days in Slovenia were focused on mountains and the waters that run off them, basing myself in the Julian Alps at Lakes Bled and Bohinj and driving and walking my way around from there. Bled is such a show off, with an enduring appeal conjured by its beautiful mountainside waters and oh-so-perfect church adorned island and precipitous medieval castle. It’s popular on the coach party circult, but quieter spots, where the church bell echoes through the forested banks and the fish jump regularly, are entirely magical. This was a day that started in Finchley and ended in a fairy tale.

The next morning I had breakfast in Bled (yes, I’ve been dying to use that one!), and with murkiness now around there was a different charm and serenity to the lakeside. I walked the entire perimeter, stopping for a very encouraging quality of coffee half way – another plus point in the books for Slovenia.

 
A change of scenery came in the middle of the day, as murk and drizzle continued and I decided to head for a place nearby called Vintgar Gorge. This was another gem, perfect in this autumnal air, with incredible clear glacial waters carving their way downstream. Almost as incredible was the wooden walkway, parts of which date back hundreds of years and leave you wondering whether any rot has set in as you dangle off a cliff edge over furious white water.

 The watery theme expanded into the rest of the day as torrential rain hammered its way down from mid afternoon onwards and cabin fever set in, but at least I got some rest and caught up with some tedious blog writing...

-----------------------------------------------

The next day was back to blue, after a mandatory misty start, and set fair for a day of driving. Short in kilometres but long in time, a circular tour of the Julian Alps, whose peaks were now dusted in a fresh layer of snow. The first stop, via narrow, precipitous road number one was to Kropa, an agreeable little place in a wooded valley in which iron was once forged but now just stands in gates and windowpanes everywhere.

From here it was a longer than expected trek across to the Soca Valley, possessing surely the bluest of bluest waters, carving there way deep into the high mountains of Triglav. Across one set of hills lay Italy, and you could sense its influence in the towns and harebrained overtaking manoeuvres of drivers around here. Kobarid felt and looked mostly Italian, and had some of its warmth as I sat on a terrace for lunch.


Heading north now towards Austria came the highlight of the driving day: the Vrsic pass. Lurching upwards and passing signs with numbers 50, 49, 48 etc, it was only until about number 35 that I realised these signified the number of hairpin bends to contend with. They also noted the altitude, which topped out at 1611 metres, and led to a land of high mountain vistas.

Thus followed the descent and chance to knock off the rest of those hairpins to the town of Kranjska Gora. Nearby, a nature reserve offered the chance to look at more fish in the incredible water, before joining merciful motorway back to Bled.

Bled was not the final destination however, as a further 20 kilometres took me to the Lake Bohinj region and home for the next couple of nights in the peaceful, rustic town of Stara Fuzina.

-------------------------------------------

After another huge breakfast involving bread, meat, cheese, yogurt and fruit, today was a walking day. Partly to offset the bread, meat, cheese etc, and partly to give the car a rest. From Stara Fuzina, the mists soon cleared as I ventured into Mostnica Gorge and towards its falls. Here, again, vivid waters thread their way through a typically Alpine valley with flower fields and happy cows.

From the falls (not pictured left, by the way), the only way was back. Or up. Up along a hunters track through a dense forest, traversing tangled tree roots and requiring a breather every third tree. I knew that because I was on it, hoping that it would finally end and bring me to the meadows of Uskovnica. The sound of a dog breaking away from its home in a pursuit to suss out who I was provided alarming confirmation that I had made the top after an hour. More dwellings, and a more open landscape, before descent into the forest again. It was a nice walk, but just that little bit on the wrong side of annoying.

Life was happier in the valleys, which were now warm and sunny and verging on the idyllic. The walk back to SF was a pleasingly flat dream, taking in the pretty villages of Srednja Vas and Studor. And at SF, my bargain loft space a setting for quiet snoozing, in keeping with the atmosphere.

Not that I was passive for long, as I had determined that, given right weather conditions, I should climb up to Osojnica viewpoint, back in Bled. This is the spot for picture postcard scenes and worth the 5 euro parking and many steps. Such effort was amply rewarded later for dinner, in the pub opposite my place, with a rustic bean and sausage stew, cottage cheese dumplings, and a beer.

The next morning it was time to bid the mountains farewell and enter a slightly quirkier phase of the visit. I wasn’t in any great rush to leave however, and soaked up a few final moments around and about Lake Bohinj and the town of Ribcez Lav.
 
-----------------------------------------------------------

And thus to the metropolis that is Ljubljana, where I spent a couple of days with an old friend who I met in Australia, Caroline. It was a chance to relive past trips to odd places and we did our best to mix it up a little, not to mention eat cake and ice cream several times for the sake of tradition. Ljubljana was rather charming in its mix of old town, communist tower block, nouveau riche style, and we were blessed with a cosy apartment in a lovely neighbourhood just south of the centre.

Given its population is smaller than Canberra there doesn’t seem to be a great deal to do in Ljubljana apart from obvious sights and eating opportunities. Therefore we went on a Sunday trip back out into the country, taking in diverse sights and towns, the thrill of a hypermarket and picnic lunch, a revisit (again!) to Lake Bled and culminating in the enthralling town of Radovljica. Scene of a great ice cream in the late afternoon sun overlooking the green hills, the sound of cowbells distant, a pastel perfect town square and probably the greatest beekeeping museum in the northern hemisphere!

It was hard for the final day to live up to the excitement of the beekeeping museum, and a somewhat dreary day weather-wise put a dampener on Ljubljana a little. An excessively informative boat cruise yielded much information but with an intensity that made it rude to doze off as one would have liked. And then a little funicular to the castle presented a strange warren of medieval fortress come convention centre. But by now I had by dober dans and hvalas down to a pat, and used them to good effect in cake eating opportunities that came my way.

The final eating in Slovenia was forced upon us by the weather. After a pleasant evening meal in our local neighbourhood, what better than to walk along the river, to take in the buildings and people milling about the squares and bridges? Cue massive thunderstorm and torrential rain, sending us ducking for cover and two chocolate milkshakes to pass time as the rain continued to hammer down.

Still, I couldn’t complain and don’t recall doing so, this being only the second time rain had stopped play during my time in Slovenia after all. Instead, a chance to pump up the heating and try to dry my washing before packing again and moving on early next morning. Glad that I had gone off the beaten path a little and seen a small corner of this lovely country that some may have never even heard of.  Leaving with warmth and a cold.

No comments: