Day 11: A night of thunderous rain transformed into a morning of damp socks and the idea to go caving at Skocjan. The tour started with a jaunt through a rain sodden forest. Our thankfully small group silently marched along the leaf littered path under umbrellas held high. We entered the caves through a strangely artificial tunnel, unsure of what to expect. It was astounding. Giant domed ceilings arched overhead as rock formations 250,000 years old glistened wetly, still growing with each mineral rich drop of water from above. From the silent cavern we ebbed our way deeper into the heart of the Earth, each step bringing the roar of water ahead. Thanks to the heavy rainfall experienced that week the caves had flooded only days before and were expected to flood again. This most comforting thought stuck with me as I stood on a bridge watching the river violently crash its way through the system bearing flotsam from the flood. An impressive team was filming a documentary in the caves detailing how they were first explored on precarious steps hewn into the rock walls themselves. Keep an eye out for the film, you will not be disappointed. We emerged once again into the daylight (rainlight) and headed towards Vipava with the thought of wine tasting bringing a smile to my face. Never underestimate the power of a smile. It may be a seemingly insignificant twitch of the face yet it carries the weight of contentment. Smile more, trust me on this. I suppose it was hard not to feel pleased as we drove through quaint Slovenian villages on our way to a private wine tasting. A few samples (and bottles) later we found a quiet stretch of road and called it a night.
Day 12: LJUBLJANA. If you are ever lucky enough to find yourself on this side of the world do yourself a favor and go to Ljubljana. Maybe it was the fact that it was our first day without rain after a very wet spell, or maybe it was the beautifully hospitable people we were lucky enough to spend the day with, but the town left an everlasting imprint on my heart. We bounced from a cafe to a castle to a cafe to a market to the best Mexican food I have had in Europe before topping it all off with a sinfully delicious crepe. We were fortunate enough to spend the day with one of Joel’s coworkers and her friends, a group of people who turned out to be welcoming, loving, giving, and the best company a person could ask for. They played the role of tour guide happily as they lead us through the cobble stone streets of Ljubljana. There they pointed out the three bridges, a gallery in the park, and a desperately romantic statue of a poet reaching longingly towards the window where his love resided, the muse knowingly watching over them both. We also had our second night under a roof complete with a scalding hot shower and the chance to wash our clothes. The hostel was a reverted jail block with eccentric works of art dotting the outside courtyard making it look like the home of the lost boys. I’ve never been happier to sleep in a room full of strangers. It is funny how living in a car has the ability to make you appreciate the small things in life, like a bed.
Day 13: After a night under a roof and with a bag full of freshly laundered clothes we turned our sights towards Lake Bled. The mountain cradled, petite lake with its sole island housing a church would be more fitting in a fairy tale than real life. Cottages and shops dotted the shoreline, all eerily empty thanks to the chilly time of the year. The lake itself was shrouded in a thin layer of mist that ebbed and flowed altering my perception with each new breath of wind. We wandered along the shoreline and up to the castle resting on a hill for another shockingly perfect view of the Slovenian countryside. I had an inspiring panoramic of the lake blending into farmland while being serenaded with the clanking bell of the lead cow meandering below. A quick descent back down to the lake brought a swarm of ducks squawking and pulling either other’s tail feathers in their desperate dive for breadcrumbs. The whole debacle was being judged by their more graceful cousins, the swans who seemed to ruffle up their feathers and turn their backs on the whole unruly business. Thanks to the incredible souls we met in Ljubljana we had a few extra euro in our pockets and instructions to try the traditional dessert of the region. The perfectly square piece of sugary delight was comprised of custard, puff pastry and not one ounce of regret. We were lucky to find an exceptional sleeping spot that night at the foot of a trail head, just past a small neighborhood of red thatched cottages that had been abandoned for the winter. That night the rain gave us a break from its usual downpour and settled for a slight drizzle so we threw a tarp down on the mud to feast on cheese with jam, cured meat, and our homemade pickled vegetables all washed down with another bottle from Karis’s Italian wine stash. It was the end of another soul stirring day.
Day 14: I awoke throughout the night to the sound of rain thrashing the car and thought that our hopes of hiking were dashed. Fortunately we awoke to the typical European drizzle that is bearable with the right attitude. A quick breakfast and coffee stop proceeded our trek into the the Julian Alps. Mostnice Gorge is, indeed, most nice. Thanks to the heavy rainfall of the past week the water was ripping through the canyon, churning its usual glacially green waters white. Blood red leaves were decaying in the same positions they had fallen in only weeks before filling the air with the sickly sweet smell of late Autumn. Vibrant green moss still coated the river rocks which only served to compliment the color-rich landscape. Waterfalls had been the theme of the road trip so far, so, of course, we ended up at the base of yet another cascading fall letting the freezing mist wash over our faces. Bohinj was the next stop of the day. The lake was cloaked in fog, obscuring the dramatic Alp background surrounding the lake. A sign recommended 2.5 hours to walk around the lake but after a quick check of the time (3:30) and a wary glace at the gathering storm clouds ahead we decided that we could beat the time by an hour at least. Needless to say, 3 hours later when we completed the loop it was pitch black outside and we were soaked to the bone. It was absolutely worth it. To offset the wet toes and kilometers hiked that day we casually borrowed some wood from the village near our campsite and had our first and last campfire of the trip. There are few things more delicious in this world than foil packet dinners on the fire. We feasted on steamed veggies and steak. The night was wonderful in a way that only happens with red wine, a full belly, and a campfire TV. The mysterious voices we heard in the empty darkness couldn't even dampen the experience.
Day 15: I opened my eyes to the dull ache of my two old lady hips and was grateful that I had made it so long sleeping in the car before they took a day from me. Joel and Karis decided to tackle an elevation rich hike and I opted to spend the day in a glass sunroom watching the world outside being dominated by a rain storm while sipping endless cups of tea with milk (miss you, momma). I took to writing and reflecting and writing some more as memories of the previous two weeks washed over me. During this brief spell of caffeine induced heavy thinking I came to many conclusions but some seemed to stand out more than others. Considering the appalling length of this blog I will save them for next time. With the return of my adventure partners we headed back into Bled for Chinese food, because why not eat crispy duck in Slovenia? It was delicious. We parked our car at the entrance to Vingtar Gorge and slept the night away.
Day 16: The final day. I rolled out of my sleeping bag and onto the trail through Vingtar Gorge. Once again I was astounded by the play of colors with the leaves and rushing water. Slovenia is an incredibly beautiful country. A quick blast to the face from a waterfall and we headed back to the cars. We said our goodbyes to Karis and turned the car to home, well to Budapest. In order to maintain sanity during the 9 hour ride we listened to Serial, a most addicting “who done it” podcast that I recommend to everyone looking to be entertained and frustrated with the lack of answers. I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHO DID IT. We popped into Austria and were welcomed by two separate half hour long police escorts. We manically looped roundabouts time and time again while laughing with fake Austrian accents that began as soon as we crossed the border and ended just as abruptly when we returned to Hungary. Our final night ended peacefully in some farm land. For me there were tears and revelations long over due. We spooned the last of our Nutella into our mouths while listening to the wisdom of the song below. Listen. Hear. Enjoy.
Thanks for reading, as always.
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