After a week of little sleep due to an atypically hot (around 90°F) Helsinki July combined with a floor four apartment without air conditioning or decent ventilation (miserable!), in addition to staying out until 3am two nights before I left for my trip singing karaoke and drinking gin and tonics at Pataässä, the Helsinki karaoke bar (which was a blast, by the way – thanks for coming to visit, Christian!), and then getting 2.5 hours of sleep the night before I left due to the continuing, smothering heat and a 5:30am wakeup to catch my first flight, my arrival in Slovenia can be (sadly) described as just plain exhausted if it was anything. I flew into Ljubljana (loob-lee-yah-nah), Slovenia last Thursday and my first destination was Lake Bled, Slovenia’s very famous, picture-perfect lake containing the country’s only island. The Ljubljana airport lies north of the capital (Ljubljana) and south of the town of Bled but my guide book and all the information I could find online indicated that I would have to backtrack to Ljubljana by bus before connecting to Bled. Ugh. Despite the fact that I arrived deliriously tired, my first order of business was to figure out how to get to Bled without taking the hour ride back to Ljubljana, waiting another hour or so for a connection, and then taking another 1.5 hour bus back north to Bled. I walked out the airport arrivals to find that the Ljubljana airport is even smaller than the one in Idaho Falls! There were multiple mini-buses parked directly outside and they all had signs in their windows, “to Ljubljana.” Again, I refused to believe that this was really the only option so started talking to the drivers. I approached the first mini-bus and the 23-ish looking driver with a faux-hawk and he asked if I needed a ride. I said, “Yes, but I am going to Bled. Can I get a ride to Bled or do I have to go to Ljubljana first?” He said, “Yes, Ljubljana.” I said, “I have to go to Ljubljana?” He said, “Yes, Ljubljana.” Well, this was either going nowhere fast or I really did need to go to Ljubljana.
I said, “When do you leave?” He said, “I don’t know…maybe in one hour?” Maybe in one hour? You don’t know? What kind of European bus driver are you anyway?! He pointed to the café outside the airport, “That is the driver. I will ask him.” AAAHHH. OK. Your buddy outsourced the American-girl-needs-a-ride-to-Bled negotiations and you really have nothing to do with this operation, am I right? Yep. I was right. So he asked his driver friend and translated the response for me; the bus would leave at 1:30pm (it was noon). Ok, well at least I now had a departure time to work with!
I still wasn’t happy with the fact that I would have to go all the way to Ljubljana before going to Bled so I decided to shop around. I started walking down the line of mini-buses talking to any driver who happened to be standing by his vehicle (most were at the café – nothing is posted at the airport but these guys sure don’t seem too worried about getting customers!). Ljubljana. Ljubljana. Ljubljana. This wasn’t looking good. Then I caught the eye of one more driver who said, “Are you going to Ljubljana? Do you need a ride?” I said, “I am going to Bled. Do I have to go to Ljubljana to connect?” He looked at me and said, “You go to Bled?” I nodded. “Why you go to Ljubljana? Just go straight to Bled!” Um, yes, please! He continued, “I take you straight to Bled.” “Really? Direct to Bled? How much?” “Thirteen euros.” Done and done! It was going to cost me over six to get back to Ljubljana plus then the more expensive ticket from Ljubljana to Bled. Saving time and money – perfect!
He told me, “I leave at 3:30pm.” Ugh. I didn’t really want to sit outside the airport in the sweltering heat for the next 3 hours. I clarified, “3:30pm? In three hours?” “Yes. 3:30pm leave here.” I said “Thirteen euros? One, three?” I have been burned before and was thinking this apparently unknown direct transfer to Bled might be a taxi scam for thirty euros or something (which I may have actually been willing to pay at that point given the heat and exhaustion). He said, “Yes, thirteen. Come, come. I show you.” He dragged me over to his car and gave me a card with the printed price, thirteen euros, and the departure times listed. “See, next leave at 3:30pm.” He pointed to 14:30 on the card. “Ah!” I said, “2:30pm.” He replied, “Yes, 3:30pm.” and again pointed to the 14:30 time. “This says 2:30pm, not 3:30pm.” I continued more as clarification for myself than as a correction to him. “Yes, yes. Three-thirty.” My takeaway was to be ready to go at 2:30pm but be prepared to wait until 3:30pm.
He took my luggage, told me that he would not be the driver but would pass on the message, and told me that someone would find me when it was time to go. Not the most comforting setup given all the confusion with the departure times and now we were adding a different Slovenian driver to the mix and I was forfeiting my bag which I had to trust would get properly transferred to the new driver’s vehicle when the time came. I decided to go with the flow just because I was too tired to do anything else, hoped things would work out as promised, and promptly parked myself on a bench in the shade.
Turns out that I didn’t need to be worried – the new driver approached me thirty minutes later and told me that he had my bag and we’d be leaving at 2:30pm. Yes! No miscommunication or misunderstanding (for once)! By the time we got around to leaving which was closer to 3pm, I had sweated through my dress and was ecstatic about the prospect of an air-conditioned car ride. I was not built for that kind of heat! Thirty minutes later I arrived in Bled…the good news was that my hotel had air conditioning; the bad news was that it was only on the ground floor and I was four flights up. My room was sweltering which may have actually been a good thing that day because had it been cool I would have been tempted to take a nap. I figured that if I was going to be hot and miserable then I may has well be hot and miserable while checking out the area and looking at pretty things. I set out to walk around the lake.
Lake Bled is teeny tiny – only 6km around – and is truly gorgeous and a pristine blue. It’s also a perfect swimming temperature at 23°C (comes out that temperature from the source) and is a Slovenian and Austrian weekend holiday favorite. I walked in the shade of the surrounding forest and every 20 meters or so I got an even better view of the picturesque little island sitting smack dab in the middle of the lake. On the island is a very pretty church and then nearby, perched atop a rocky cliff, sits an old castle overlooking the lake and the island. Talk about a storybook setting! This is the place you see drawn on the covers of children’s books and can’t imagine really exists!
Very near Bled is Triglav National Park which is home to Slovenia’s Julian Alps. As this was one of the primary reasons I decided to come to Slovenia I wanted to make sure I was able to spend some time here and chose another famous lake, Bohinj Jezero (Bohinj Lake), as my destination for the next day and from which I knew I could do some great hikes. After another fitful night of too-hot semi-sleep, I set off for Bohinj the next morning on the bus and discovered one of my favorite things about Slovenia…the air conditioning on their public transportation! After more than a week of heat-induced discomfort and sleep deprivation I had finally found my heaven sitting under the A/C vents blasting on my face. I promptly crashed and woke up (very luckily) five minutes from my stop. Newly refreshed, I hopped off the bus and began the day of exploration. (As an aside, I did briefly reconsider the plans for the day thinking I might be just as happy to sit on the bus and ride around all day under that lovely vent!)
Mt. Triglav, the highest peak in Slovenia at 2,864 m (9,396 ft), is a right of passage for Slovenians and it is said that you are not truly Slovenian until you have summited Mt. Triglav. At 2,864 m, it is a significant climb which takes a couple days and requires a significant amount of equipment in order to handle the final ascent which involves scaling rocks with snow and potentially ice. I only brought a tiny Euro-sized carry-on bag with me for the 17 day trip and didn’t have room for my hiking gear, and also didn’t feel like doing a guided group hike (this mountain is too high and too advanced to safely do alone as a novice!), so had to forego the Mt. Triglav climb for a smaller peak nearby called Mt. Vogel.
Vogel is considerably smaller than Triglav at 1,922 m (6,306 ft) and while I had initially planned to hike from the lake level to the top and back in one day, I opted at the last minute to take the funicular up first, do a shorter hike, and then hike out to a famous waterfall later that day. All I can say is thank goodness I opted for the shorter hike of Vogel! As the funicular took off and my ears began popping on the way up I realized just how high this peak actually was, and that starting the hike around noon (after bus trip from Bled and a ~6km hike to the funicular) probably wouldn’t have been a good idea. I asked at the funicular ticket office if the hiking paths on the mountain were well-marked and the woman looked at me over her glasses and just nodded. “So, I can hike to the top of Vogel by myself and it is fine?” She dropped her head again, peered over at me again, and just said, “Yes.” Ok, then!
I hopped off the lift and set out. There were signs all over the place but, as Vogel is a popular ski mountain in the winter, they were all for ski runs and not exactly the hiking paths which were indicated on the mountain map. I set out anyway figuring that I would find my way; I always do. (!) I walked along what I expect is a cat track in the winter and found a marked hiking trail to Vogel and took off. Things were actually working out this time! I hiked in the forest for about 45 minutes and the path was extremely well-marked with a red dot outlined in white painted on a rock or a tree about every 20m or so. What was concerning though was that the path was continually tracking down the mountain and I was hoping to do an ascent, not a descent, of Vogel. I didn’t want to pay the $10 for a map of the mountain for one day hike so I was winging it and had been trusting that the path would be well marked (and intuitive!).
I had been hiking for about an hour when the forest path ran into a dirt road and at that point I was very confused. The road continued down and I wanted to go up (and besides being worried about going the wrong way I was going to be highly annoyed if I was on the right path but had to make up all the elevation that I was losing!). Was I on the right path? If I was on the right path was I going the right direction? I stopped and tried to figure out from my very basic map and Google maps where I should be going – using my blackberry to try to translate the signs posted in Slovenian. (No service up there so SOL on the translation and Google maps help!) A Danish couple walking the same direction passed by and I asked them if they were going to Vogel. They said yes and I said that was too but I was worried that the path was just going down, down, down. The woman said, “The map says that the path descends for quite a while before you go up again so you are ok.” Those map things are pretty useful, aren’t they? Maybe I should consider actually using one next time…
With renewed confidence I took off again and figured that if I got confused further on that I could just wait for the smart Danes with a map to catch up. The path at this point became very clear and there were not only the characteristic bullseye markers on the trees but also the name “Vogel” written above them with an arrow pointing me in the right direction. They must have been thinking of people like me when they marked this trail (needing extremely clear directions and lots of confirmation)! The only bad thing about the trail was that while it was well and almost gratuitously marked along the straight, clear portions (hard to get side-tracked when there is a dirt path carved out of a forest), it was vaguely or not at all marked at the key decision-making points (i.e. every single fork in the trail). I had passed probably twenty or so “Vogel” arrows along the way only to get quite near the top and encounter multiple forks which were completely unmarked. How does that make any sense? If you’re going to go with the 80/20 rule with respect to marking the trail I’d suggest including all the forks in the 80 as a trade for leaving some of the straight bits unmarked. Good grief!
The path got very steep very fast and mostly required climbing and scrambling over rocks. I was moving quickly and had made it quite near to the top in just an hour. It was still warm much but cooler at that elevation (Hallelujah!) and as I got closer it got even cooler and much more windy. The path finally ended up on top of a rocky bridge between two peaks and I was literally standing between an expanse of Julian Alps on both my right and on my left. It was pretty amazing but was also pretty scary – very high and very windy on a narrow rock bridge! I kept on though and continued climbing but had a moment of height-induced panic high on the last climb during which my legs started shaking uncontrollably and I had stop and camp out in a crevice for 20 minutes to breathe and get my act together. I thought I was going to have to turn around without reaching the top but after sitting for a while I was able to keep going. It turns out that I was only about 20m from the top and after I turned the corner which had stumped me before, I had only a few easy steps to the summit.
Victory! I was so happy to have made it after that last hiccup that I even hung out for a while and took lots of pictures. I was suddenly over my fear (at least for the time being)! The only frustrating thing is that I’m not quite sure which peak I summited given all the confusion and lack of trail markings on the last part of the ascent. I do know that it was either Vogel or Sija (tomato, to-mah-to). Well…maybe “know” is too strong a word…
The couple behind me stopped about 100m down the mountain. The woman had looked up the narrow, rocky climb and had thought better of it (probably smart). I felt pretty good about the fact that I had made it and was especially proud when they started taking pictures of me up at the top. If only they knew how scared I was on the way up! Shaking legs are never a good thing when on the edge of a rock face! I headed back down and, as I had made the climb in about half the time of what was indicated, I had extra time to do some more exploring and still make it to the bottom in time to walk out to the waterfall. I decided I would take a different path back just to change things up a bit. I had seen another trail along the mountain side which led back in the right direction so when I came to the fork in the road, I took it.
It was a really beautiful day and the Julian Alps were not only gorgeous (the star of the show, Mt. Triglav, was extremely impressive in all its rocky glory) but also a bit overwhelming. There were lovely, rocky peaks in every direction within sight and I was thoroughly enjoying the hike back, at least now that I was off the scary part and on an adrenaline high. This “new way home” was still quite high up but was relatively flat. There were a couple hikers up in front of me and then two German couples a bit behind so I was in good company. We all trekked around the side of one of the peaks and then had to cross over and, I assumed, descend. (I had climbed around 1,300 ft so needed to get down at some point). I passed another couple of hikers going the opposite direction when I got to the top of the pass and was thinking that this was a good sign – they had to come from somewhere (hopefully, a marked trail)! They did, in fact, come from somewhere…the same somewhere from which I had come. They got sucked into the same path that I did which led through a lot of overgrown bushes and then to a dead end in bushes so thick there was no way to get through without a scythe. I turned around to backtrack and get back to the fork where I’d made the wrong turn.
I got back on the right path (as did the Germans who saw my mistake and followed me after I corrected) and kept on trucking. Finally, I was descending and I knew that I was going in the right direction, I could actually see the funicular building way up ahead, so was feeling confident despite having no idea what trail I was on. We all kept hoofing it along the clear if not marked trail until we got to the foot of what is a ski slope in winter time. I had seen the funicular building up at the top of this slope so, unfortunately, we all had to go up again. I didn’t quite understand how we’d only gone down what seemed to be very little and had to go up again what seemed to be a lot but who knows, I have certainly gotten twisted around before!
I had stopped to take some pictures a while back so the German party was now in front of me and had started climbing the slope. It was really rather steep and, worse, was covered in little rocks and pebbles (I assume to keep the plants at bay so it can be used as a ski slope with little to no maintenance). Little rocks and pebbles on a steep slope are bad news if you’re trying to walk up that slope. I had more trouble getting up this ski slope than I did on the much more intensive and strenuous climbs to the peak early that day. I only brought my sneakers with me (my hiking boots would have taken a quarter of the space in my bag!) and they aren’t the best to hike with anyway but they were terrible to hike with on those rocks. I was slipping and sliding for most of the climb which made it a lot of work. I probably only got 60% of every step I placed after losing 40% to the slide. I finally got to the top of the slope, looked out across the mountain and saw the funicular building WAY further down and still a ways away. What the hell had we just climbed to? I had about another 50m or so up and so went the rest of the way to find a ski lift and a herd of sheep. I thought, no, really, you have got to be kidding me! We had all made the same mistake and when the other hikers caught up to me we all looked at each other and shrugged. Now what? We could hike down to the real funicular but I now didn’t have time for that if I wanted to see the waterfall. The ski lift was operating…couldn’t the guy just let us ride down?
Ironically, right as I had that thought the ski lift came to an abrupt halt and the lift operator hopped out of his “office,” locked the door, looked over at those of us hanging around, and sliced is hand horizontally through the air. I knew what that meant - finito! No mas! An Italian couple in front of me had apparently spoken to him a few minutes earlier and he had told them that they could ride down with him. I didn’t know this at the time but when he jumped in his truck and they jumped in the bed in the back (covered with a tarp like the old military trucks from the movies), I yelled at him and pointed to the truck, “Can I come too?” He nodded yes and I hopped in just in time to go barreling down the ski slope in his beater truck.
The Italian couple and I bounced around in the back – at one point the woman shrieked and grabbed my arm when she thought I was going to fly backwards – and I can tell you that that ride was the bumpiest, sliding-est, wheel-spinning-est ride I have ever been on. (Small rocks and pebbles covering a steep slope also turns out to be bad news for both trucks.) We stopped once at another lift to pick up the driver’s hippie buddy (both looked like Slovenian hippies – if there is such a thing – to me) and the five of us continued to bounce and slide down the mountain, the hippies in the front and the dumb hikers holding on for dear life in the back. Besides the fact that I get car sick if I just look at a winding road, and then we were sucking diesel fumes in the back of the truck which made it worse, that five minute ride was five minutes too long! We hopped out quickly and before we could even say thanks the driver was already off again, likely happy to be rid of his cargo!
I was thankful that the ride had been short-lived and even more so that it had saved me a lot of time. I grabbed a Slovenian cheese strudel for lunch at the “warming hut” (I have had some bizarre meals over the past week – when it comes to eat what they have or don’t eat, I eat what they have!), and caught the funicular back down the mountain. I escaped the jam-packed funicular and set out for the next item on the agenda, Slap Savica. “Slap” is the Slovenian word for “waterfall” (although I much prefer to think of the English definition just because it cracks me up thinking of a tourist site called “slap” anything – I am obviously easily entertained) and this waterfall is one of the biggest tourist attractions in Slovenia. It was only an hour hike from where I had come down from Vogel so I took off.
Because of the confusion at the top of Vogel, I had less time than I had hoped for the waterfall visit and only had two hours to do what was expected to take three at a minimum. Of course, in true Andrea-form, I had already discounted the time estimates by half thinking I would do it much faster anyway (although it is always nice to have some buffer!). I figured it would be tight but I would be fine. I started along the trail and was moving fast – I didn’t have time to dilly dally this time and it was do or die. I wasn’t coming all the way back out to Bohinj again the next day for this waterfall! The trail was very wide, well maintained, and well marked given that Savica is such a tourist destination. I moved along quickly and then, of course, as I got closer there were forks in the trail which were not marked at all. Is this some kind of trail marking dude’s idea of fun?! I did not have time for any ambiguity here!
It slowed me down a bit as this time I didn’t have time to go down a wrong path but I ended up making the right decisions and confirmed with a couple hikers along the way. I reached the entrance to Savica and hit a roadblock – I was stuck behind a group of ten or so buying tickets. I shuffled around impatiently, bought my ticket, and practically ran up the 500 stairs to the waterfall. (I don’t think I made any friends on that trip – the old Italians with walking poles were not impressed with my athletic ability as I ran past and, unfortunately, usually scared them. Sorry!) I got to the falls and was pretty aggressive about getting in there to take pictures. There was a single wooden platform out to the waterfall with about ten teenagers on it talking and just generally screwing around. I typically wait patiently for people to take their pictures and take great care not to inadvertently step into the frame. Quite often I even offer to take the pictures for them…but not that day! I wove my way through them to the very front, climbed halfway up the gate at the end, and propped myself up in the corner between the fence and the rock wall so that I could get the pictures I wanted. I spent a few more minutes there checking out the views and trying to get better angles and then figured I better skedaddle. I had 45 minutes to make the bus home.
I hustled down the steps and back out to the hiking path. The trail marker said it was one hour by foot back to town. I looked at my watch…it was 6:13pm and my bus left at 6:40pm. I had 27 minutes. I wasn’t even sure if there was another bus that night so it was pretty important that I make this one unless I wanted to pay what was sure to be an exorbitant taxi charge back to Bled. I took off and knew the path this time so didn’t have to stop and wonder and ponder which direction to go. I passed a group of guys picnicking by the side of the trail and they yelled out to me…I waved and just kept moving. I was in a full on speed walk but wasn’t running so I’m sure I looked like some sort of fruitcake. But, as you understand by now, there was no time for caring about what people thought of me. I had to make that bus!
I kept checking my watch. I knew I was close but didn’t know just how close. Was there even a chance I would make it or should I just admit defeat now? I picked up the pace a bit and just kept going. 11 minutes. 8 minutes. At what point do I break out into a sprint? 5 minutes…I saw the bus in the distance! I ran the last quarter mile and burst onto the bus, almost teetering on top of the driver when I finally stopped myself. The driver didn’t even react and just looked up slowly. I started sputtering about a ticket to Bled, paid the man, and walked back to find a seat. I sat down and looked at the time posted on the bus above the driver: 5:37pm. I smiled and was proud. Three minutes to spare, final disaster averted, and all items for the day checked off!
The next day I took off on foot for Vintgar Gorge, a beautiful stretch of the Radovna River alongside and over which a 1.6km wooden walkway was built so you can see every angle of the gorgeous gorge. There was a bus to Vintgar but it was only 4-5km from Bled so I figured that I would just walk it and check out some of the countryside. I took off and decided to take a small sidetrack to avoid one of the busy roads. (I do realize that me saying that I took a “sidetrack” has an ominous sound to it given my many past experiences but you really don’t need to worry this time – this is not another “Andrea gets lost again” story!) It took me past a really lovely Slovenian graveyard, surrounded by a rock wall and towered over by pretty arches and Russian-looking cupolas. I then turned onto a country road which cut through what looked to be small farm properties. I had just stopped to take a picture of a small shrine I found out in the fields when a little man hopped out of a clunker car, which I had assumed to be parked and empty, sitting in a small ditch off the side of the road. The fact that I didn’t know he was there startled me to begin with but then he was talking a mile-a-minute in Slovenian and rushing toward me which was even more disconcerting. I was frozen in my tracks like a deer in headlights as he ran / quickly waddled over to me with his hands cupped and outstretched in front of him. He dropped two small green apples into my hands which I presume he had just pulled off of his trees. He was very proud and still jabbering a mile a minute. Somehow I think I heard him say that he spoke some English and German when he was younger but given that I don’t speak Slovenian, who knows?! I gave him a big smile and said thank you, and then attempted to say thank you in Slovenian. He gave me a big smile and ran / quickly waddled back to his car in the ditch. The car lurched forward and he was off. What a cutie!
I always try to learn how to say “thank you” in the local language because I feel like you get a lot of bang for your buck – you use it all the time and it is a great way to garner some grace with the locals. “Thank you” in Slovenian is “hvala” of which the first syllable “hva” seems impossible to an English speaker. I looked it up in my guidebook and the pronunciation key was hva-la. Thanks for nothing! I then asked the man at the hotel desk for the proper pronunciation and he made a very soft, practically imperceptible ha sound, almost like he was trying to fog up a mirror in front of him, and followed it with vah-lah. I tried and it came out just plain vah-lah, no sweet and soft ha sound beforehand. He laughed and said, “No!” and then repeated hvala with some extra oomph and practically hocked something up on me to make the “h” sound more prominent to my clearly untrained ears. I took a step back and said, “I think I’m going to have to work on that one on my own! Hah–vah…vah-lah…thank you!” I did try to practice on my own but first it came out hah-vah-lah, then vah-hah-lah, then hahv-la, at which point I thought, bag it. I will learn “hello” instead. “Hello” is “zdravo.” Wonderful. The pronunciation help for which was zdra-vo. Also wonderful and extraordinarily helpful. (The guy writing the pronunciation section for my guidebook is running a scam!) I figured I was only going to be in Slovenia for five days so maybe I could let this one local language “thank you” slip by… (Now as I sit writing this in Croatia I know that “hvala” is also the Croatian word for “thank you.” I’m not getting off so easy!)
I walked through a few more small towns and villages on the way to Vintgar and I was not disappointed when I finally made it there. The river is absolutely stunning and crystal clear and the wooden walkway winding its way over and back makes the walk even more beautiful and unique. The pictures really tell the story here but it was surely worth using the day to see.
At the end of the 1.6km walkway down the gorge, I picked up another hiking trail which took me through the forest and up a hill to a 13th century church called St. Catherine’s. I made it to Catherine’s to find a beautiful, centuries-old stone wall and some impressive, original frescoes. The amount of history in Europe is just staggering! You literally run into it everywhere! I continued on down through the neighboring town of Zasip and was really taken with what a blend of cultures and countries Slovenia seemed to be. Not shockingly, it has a very Mediterranean feel and all the same flowers and vegetation making it look a bit like Italy. Then there are the homes which are predominately Bavarian in style and are as such very Austrian-looking. The language seems close to Croatian and the food is a mix of Balkan and Middle Eastern (I was feeling a Turkish vibe very strongly on the food front…lots of kebabs and meat and vegetable “grills”.) The country is bordered by Italy, Austria, Hungary, and Croatia so it’s not difficult to understand the influences but what is always so surprising to me is how unique every country in Europe is but how they also seem to meld together on a continuum, particularly apparent at the borders.
I made my way through Zasip, taking pictures of all of the Bavarian homes and Italian gardens that I could along the way (probably made some enemies of the locals as I photographed them in their backyards!), and arrived back in Bled to load up on water for my next hike up to a supposedly gorgeous viewpoint for the entire lake. I had read that it was short and steep and that was a good description. I think I ascended 200m in about 40 minutes. I got to the top and it was definitely worth it. The views were amazing and I was finally able to get a picture of the entire (if tiny!) lake. I spent about an hour at the top before heading back down and jumping into the lake for a cool-off dip. The water was the perfect temperature and sparkling blue. I can definitely understand why this is the vacation destination of choice for so many Austrians and Slovenes! A swim in lovely Lake Bled was the perfect way to wrap up my stay there.
I woke up the next day and made my way to the bus stop for Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia and my next stop. I normally hate bus rides but I learned to appreciate them in Slovenia – again, the bus was pumping glorious air conditioning and I had a couple hours of relief from the heat. I got to Ljubljana and it was just as described…quaint and lovely, a “little Paris” as it has been called…in my view, almost a dollhouse-sized version of Paris. “Ljubljana” translates into something close to “beloved” or “favorite” and I personally believe that was the perfect name for the place. There is a beautiful old town on the Ljubljanica (loob–lee–yahn–eh–kah) River (shout out to Janica…are you sure your mom isn’t half Slovene to have come up with your name?) with beautiful pastel-colored buildings lining each side. Right in front of Prešernov trg, one of the main town squares in Ljubljana, there are three white-pillared bridges all right next to one another, a very pretty middle finger to practicality. One thing I miss from the United States is how everything (usually) just works and is efficient but one thing I think we fail to see while we focus on efficiency is the aesthetic and artistic aspect of everything. Three bridges side by side certainly don’t make a lot of sense but they really do make a pretty picture.
When I checked in to my hotel the front desk clerk asked for my passport and I was staring out the window when he surprised me by saying, “You have a birthday today! Yes?!” I never think they really look at your passport when making the obligatory photo copy in case you turn out to be a psycho so was surprised he had noticed. I smiled and said, “Yes. It is my birthday.” He gave me a huge smile, extended his hand, shook mine vigorously, and said, “Well, then I wish you a very happy day on your birthday! Have a happy, happy day!” I thought that was such a sweet birthday wish! I guess it is the same as “happy birthday” but from a stranger when you’re far from home and friends and family that funny little handshake and genuine well wish meant a lot. I became a fan of that guy right then and there.
So I spent my birthday eating Slovenian food (heavy on the chanterelles which are in season) including Slovenian wine (unfiltered and a little scary looking!) and exploring the city and the Ljubljana castle (Ljubljanski grad) perched on the top of the hill smack dab in the middle of everything. The castle was nearly destroyed along with many other buildings in Ljubljana by the earthquakes of 1511 and 1895 but has subsequently been restored (twice) to represent what it once was during its glory years. I took a short tour with a guide (appropriately, at least in my mind, named Igor – what better name for a Slovenian medieval castle tour guide than Igor?!) and he told us that the castle had served as a fortress, as a home for government officials, and even as a prison at various points in history. (It was later used to house those who had no home of their own – quite a different take on welfare!) He showed us the prison cells which were stone-walled rooms dug out below the surface (like a basement) but with only bars for ceilings. The inmates were held in these cells (I would call them cages) and left to the elements, whatever they may be. Given that I had been suffering in the heat for two weeks, and was sweltering in the sun at that point, it seemed like this was cruel and unusual punishment!
I had hoped to do a special solo birthday dinner that evening but had started checking into my buses to Rab Island, Croatia for a couple days later, which I was already a little worried about, and found that there was no way for me to get from Ljubljana to Rab Island in a single day. Great. I searched bus, ferry, and catamaran options and there was just no way to do it. I would need to make at least part of my way on Monday if I was to be in Rab town on Tuesday night. I was able to get the hotel to let me out of my second night there and then made a reservation for Monday in Rijeka, Croatia as the main connecting point to get to Rab. It was a bit frustrating but what can you do? I had been a bit worried about this being an issue but wasn’t able to confirm all the bus and ferry connections until I was actually in the country. Thankfully, the hotel took mercy on me on my “happy day” and let me cancel. Unfortunately, however, this meant I spent my birthday evening on the internet figuring out when and what I could do to get to Croatia on time. Oh well…such is life and travel!
I had one more day in Slovenia and had decided to go to the Škocjan Caves, about 60 km southwest of Ljubljana. Slovenia as various patches of limestone in the country and, as you likely know, limestone is porous so when a river hits a limestone surface it will literally “drain” through the rock. And when a river drains through limestone you get, you guessed it, an underground river. Škocjan is just one of the multiple caves created in Slovenia by these underground rivers carving out caverns under the surface and is not even the most famous of them. It is though, at least according to my sources, the most impressive of them all so I opted to go to Škocjan instead of its more famous big brother Postojna.
I had to take a two hour train to get to Divača and then the caves were inconveniently located another 5km away. I had read that there was (might be) a bus from the station to the caves but that there was definitely a walking path. Either way, I would be ok. I left on the 9am bus and arrived at Divača at 11am. I walked across the tracks with the rest of the train passengers to find multiple buses parked and ready to go. I checked all of them for signs to Škocjan but none seemed to be going there and two of the three were labeled by private tour companies. I shrugged and started looking around for the signs for the walking path.
The first section of the walking path was along a road and was well marked. I got to the intersection of this road and a Slovenian highway and the highway sign told me to turn right for the caves while the walking path sign pointed straight ahead. Thinking this was yet another lovely 80/20 Slovenian hiking path marking fiasco, I wavered between the two options for about 10 minutes and then decided to go with the walking sign. I walked and walked, mostly on the six inch shoulder of a very fast road, hoping that this would result in an actual hiking trail at some point. A couple kilometers later, I was pleasantly surprised to see another sign pointing me in the direction of a dirt road and into a forest. I walked along the path for an hour or so and finally came to a stair case to the right. I climbed the steps to find what looked like a home and a backyard with children’s toys. I turned around quickly and went back down to the trail. I definitely didn’t need to trespass on somebody’s backyard and have an angry Slovenian parent chasing me down the mountain!
I could hear waterfalls and knew that I was very close so just kept going down the trail and following my Google maps directions to Škocjan. I arrived in Škocjan village and began again to climb up (I had already climbed up and come back down a significant hill on the way). The views were spectacular and it was great to get off the beaten path a bit and see a little Slovenian village but I was under some time pressure…the Škocjan tour was an hour and a half, the train ride back to Ljubljana was another two hours, and then I had another train to catch that night to Rijeka, Croatia. It was nearing 12:30pm at this point and if I didn’t make the 1pm Škocjan tour, I was at risk of missing the last train to Rijeka.
Something didn’t seem right. I felt like I had turned and was now going in the wrong direction. I had a simple map in my guidebook and Google maps on my blackberry (but remember we’re in rural Slovenia so Google maps isn’t much help!). I started piecing together some landmarks and then translated one of the few sites on the Google map. I was close but had gone the wrong way to Škocjan town instead of Škocjan National Park (again, almost doesn’t count in GPS directions!). I turned around and headed back to the park, only a kilometer or so away. I arrived at 12:45pm in time to make the 1pm tour. Thank goodness!! The only thing worse than four hours roundtrip on a train is four hours roundtrip on a train to do and see nothing!
The caves were, in a word (or maybe two), absolutely spectacular. They don’t allow pictures or movies in the caves because it allows photosensitive algae to grow (not native) but believe me when I say this is one of the most unbelievable places you will ever see. It was like jumping into middle earth or to Mars or something. There were enormous caves, one was 90m x 40m x 60m if I remember correctly, with surreal looking stalactites and stalagmites hanging from the ceiling and “growing” from the ground some of which have been determined to be up to 300,000 years old. The place was really something out of a science fiction novel. I almost tripped multiple times because I was walking around staring at the ceiling and walls with my mouth hanging open. Then came the most incredible part…an absolutely gigantic cavern which literally had an underground river raging through it. We walked along a wooden pathway built into the cavern walls and could see stone steps carved into the opposite wall which were what the first explorers had used to get much deeper and much lower in the cave. I have never seen anything like this and it is even a bit difficult to describe! When I hear “cave” I think a small, underground, enclosed space. When I use “cave” here, you should envision another universe. We crossed over the river and were, I think, 90m above it at the time with I don’t even know how many meters of open space above us. If you are ever in Slovenia it is completely worth the trip to Divača for this! Nature has given us some spectacular things and this is just another example of something which is beyond human imagination!
Still with my jaw on the floor, I made it out of the cave at 2:30pm and took the “hard path” back to the information center. I had an hour or so to kill before the bus came to take us back to the bus station (I figured this one out this time!) so wandered around the property and came to…a backyard-looking area with a bunch of kids’ toys. The joke was definitely on me! I had actually come straight to the right place initially and had turned around thinking something looked wrong. Ironic…for once I actually take and stick to the legitimate trail and then I get to the destination and think it looks wrong so decide to leave. One of these days I’ll get it right…I hope!
I took the bus back to the station and made the train (by two minutes – even I think this is cutting it close but no one at the Škocjan Caves info center seemed to know when the buses came and if and when they connected to the trains – don’t people do this every single day?!) back to Ljubljana. I even made the train I had intended to make so was able to have dinner before heading back to the train station for my Rijeka connection – bonus!
I had decided to go to a Serbian restaurant on my last night in Slovenia. The food was good and the waiter was lovely. He even gave me a second glass of wine on the house which made for a quite happy walk back to my hotel to grab my bags and a very relaxed catching of the bus despite the fact that the driver had never seen an internet-purchased ticket. (I had spent almost an hour translating each web page to buy this ticket online the night before thinking it would make things easier and no one at the bus station seemed to know what to do with it.) The bus driver wouldn’t take my printed ticket purchase confirmation and marched me into the bus station at which point it took three of them to figure out what was going on. I was pretty happy after two glasses of wine so didn’t worry too much about it and let them figure it out – as long as the driver was with me I wasn’t worried!
They finally figured out how to process my ticket and as I boarded the bus I said a fond farewell to Slovenia. Beautiful country, lovely people, and happy days!
Now, on to Croatia!
