As I type it is 9 pm on a mild Sunday evening. I am sitting in the beautiful central courtyard of Ljubljana Castle, cocooned in the softest pink blanket, having just nurtured my soul with a scoop of mint chocolate gelato (may not be pistachio, but I am sticking with the green theme), waiting to watch this evening’s Film Under The Stars (Paterson (I hadn’t heard of it either (but it is in English) (post-film note: not everyone’s cup of tea, but I thoroughly enjoyed it))). Mellow classical piano plays through the speakers as the audience slowly choose their seats, and all of this set me back less than €5. The sky is a watercolour wash of the palest, calmest blue; a deeper, richer hue waiting in the wings to bleed across the picture-perfect backdrop before darkness settles and the stars come out to play. The evening feels simply magical, which serves as a charmingly apt illustration of the past week I’ve spent in this Balkan paradise.
Bled (home to the famous Lake Bled (and the infamous Bled Cream Cake)) was my first stop, my thinking being that I would need somewhere calm, relaxing and beautiful to recover from Exit Festival. And oh Lordy was it calm, relaxing and (Lake) bleddy beautiful. The town of Bled is lovely in itself – lots of little tavernas and cafés; a fine medieval castle; cream cake on tap – but it was the central lake and surrounding nature that were the real highlights. If you are familiar with Lake Bled you will no doubt be familiar with the perfect postcard image of the tranquil turquoise waters surrounding its own (Slovenia’s only 😉) island, all framed effortlessly by dark green woodland, brighter green grass, hazy Alpine mountains and a never ending turquoise sky. Well. This image is reality. This place really is that beautiful. And after hiking to Slovenia’s most visited photo opportunity (made up fact but I wouldn’t discount the idea) Ojstrica (the third of three viewpoints we clamboured to after making a number of wrong turns) I was able to have my time in the limelight, and take an exact replica (or twenty) of the photograph found on every man, woman and dog’s smart phone who have visited this area. And of course we all then felt like National Geographic photographers who had just discovered the world’s most hidden natural beauty, and were documenting the until now unseen landscape for the world’s eyes to revere forever more. Well, maybe not, but we did all have a banging new iPhone screen saver.
During my first full day I visited Vintgar Gorge with new best mates Adele (unfortunately not the Adele, but a lovely Australian substitute) and Mark (‘red neck’ Canadian who liked to talk (a lot)), who I had met while misdirecting myself (and subsequently them) to Ojstrica. With me in charge of the directions once more (what were we thinking?) we made it to the gorge via a hop, skip, jump (and a kind-hearted Slovenian taxi driver who took pity on us). We walked the walk, oo’d and ah’d, and took dozens of photographs before reaching the pièce de résistance: the mighty 13 m high Šum waterfall. After a bite to eat perching uncomfortably (but not letting on – obviously) on the jagged rocks, watching Mark (at least three times) and Adele tackle the jump into the emerald green pool of ice cold temptation, it was my turn and I took my position on the side of the cliff (and then fannied around getting scared to take the plunge). With the prospect of a great action shot photograph to upload to Facebook, I made the leap – plugged my nose and shut my eyes tight (I might have been jumping off a cliff but I was going to do it sensibly) – and plunged into the ARCTIC waters. I surfaced with my contact lenses intact, my bikini secure, and my street cred at an all time high. (That was before the shrieking as I couldn’t get out of the ice bath quick enough (but luckily for me the photo didn’t capture that part).)
As beautiful as Lake Bled is it does have some competition, which comes in the form of Lake Bohinj – its larger, less well known sibling which lies just 26 km to the southwest. I decided to investigate the Bled vs. Bohinj debate myself. The weather during my visit to Bohinj wasn’t great, but I did still manage to get a swim and sunbathe (and cappuccino) while I was there, so not a total damp squib. The situation felt more remote in comparison to Bled, which was great for a ‘back to basics’ morning of walking (and even better when I desperately needed a wee lakeside, with no public toilet in sight). The water was just as clear, but appeared slightly darker and lacked the jewel-like vibrancy of Bled (which knocked off a couple of points in the Lake-off, but was a welcome attribute when Mother Nature was calling…). The water was also colder than in Bled (increasing the latter’s lead), but the scenery surrounding Lake Bohinj was more extensive and less developed (closing the gap considerably). When I had dried off from my swim the heavens, quite abruptly, opened their doors for all eternity (or at least it felt that way). But with a quick forage into my bag I whipped out my trusty Pac-A-Mac (always prepared) which saved the day, my hair and the public from spying my bra through my ever-transparencing top, and got me to safety (the pub) semi dry. Once the coffee was down and the storm had cleared I made my way back to the bus stop, still just as unclear on the winner of the Bled vs. Bohinj Lake Championships 2017 as I had been when I set off.
Following my leisurely few days immersed (literally) in nature, I travelled to the country’s capital, Ljubljana (or, my preferred prounounciation, jubble-jarner). I hummed and harred about stopping off here at all, and Boy George am I glad I did. I would actually contemplate emigrating here. I thoroughly recommend a visit to anyone who likes a small but perfectly formed European city (and of course I’ll offer you a cup of Yorkshire Tea if I have upped sticks by the time you visit). Its size enables it to feel both explorable and interesting while remaining non-intimidating. There are shops, bars, a castle and a park. Beautiful Braoque architecture lies around every corner (I sure was paying attention to that free walking tour), and the intricate facades and statues remained enjoyable to discover (unlike my ‘not another old building’ attitude provoked by a number of other, indeed much more prominent, capital cities).
As well as wandering the city, eyes wide and neck arched back (quite lucky I didn’t have any further mishaps to be honest), I spent one morning away from the centre, at the ‘world famous’ (not convinced) Postojna Cave. It was quite a pricy trip (entrance plus transport almost double my daily budget), but so so worth it. After arriving too late for my booked timeslot (filling the subsequent hour wait with an apricot croissant and cappuccino certainly softened the blow (and my ever decreasing muscle mass)) I made it to my re-assigned slot with bags of time, and was entertained as I waited by an OAP Slovenian dancing squad complete with traditional dress (I don’t know how they coped in the sweltering heat), traditional musical instruments and traditional (I’m guessing) random whoops and whistles by the long navy sock wearing men. It was quite a spectacle. As we made our way through the ticket scanner we were each photographed (with no warning or explanation) like paparazzi-choked celebs going through customs, only to have these mugshots very crudely photoshopped onto a cave background, waiting for us like bored babysitters in the school playground when we finished our underground adventure. I made the foolish decision of looking for my photo – I’ve never looked so pissed off to be in a cave in all my life. But as for the cave itself… BUDA FCKN TASTIC! We were transported into the depths by a very speedy, very rickety old train (I’m quite amazed that none of the normal to tall visitors were deposited beheaded from the low stalagtatic ceilings) before making our way through a series of enchanting underground rooms and walkways on foot. It was flipping fantastic. Freezing, but fantastic. I couldn’t decide if I felt more like I had been transported back to my magical sixth birthday at Disneyland Paris, or had landed a leading role in the Harry Potter franchise. Either way I felt like a child again, wandering the caves eyes wide and neck arched back (and delighted to report – quite miraculously – no embarrassing trips, falls or stalagmite altercations).
Back in jubbly-jonga, there was time for a run in the sun-drenched Tivoli Park (the first since Bratislava – three (!) weeks ago – I’m ashamed to admit) before heading to the castle for the Film Under The Stars – the perfect end to my week-long date with Slovenia.