5 nights in Slovenia, and never the same bed twice

I flew into Ljubljana from Berlin, and had the delightful experience of being greeted by a friendly face at the airport. Sonja, who we met in Ireland (with her cousin Mojca), and a friend welcomed me and drove me into town to check into a beautiful hostel, take me for something to eat in the lovely old town, and provide a quick tour of the local mall. Sonja was anxious to prove that Slovenia was a part of the modern world, I think.

Sonja headed off to study before I took any photos with a "see you soon!" which proved to be false when we never found ourselves in the same place at the same time again. This was mostly Mojca's fault.

My first night in Ljubljana was deceptively quiet. I met a pair of American siblings, one of whom knew Sammy Tunis because they were both on the same exchange in Prague in 2001. I can't recall her name or her brother's, but someone tell Sammy to read this entry so she and I can figure it out.

Mojca came to get me the next afternoon with a slightly crazed look in her eyes, checked me out of the hostel, put me in a car with her friend (Vesma or Vesna?) and drove us out to V's place out in a tiny village, the name of which I never learned, in the countryside. We stopped in at V's family's place, where I was generously fed and met Mojca's boyfriend, also V's brother, who's name I also have forgotten. And I feel bad about it, because he was very friendly and welcoming. (Hey Mojca- email me and tell me people and place names again!)

Here's a taste of the setting, with Mojca in the car and V about to scold me for photographing her:



Once my stomach was well beyond full, we went around the corner to the village pub to meet a group of friends. It was Halloween, and Mojca had told them all that I knew how to party.

Adrian, the Aussie who went around with us in Ireland, had recently been to visit and met all the same people as I was meeting. As "another one of Mojca's foreigners", I kept getting compared to him. Especially because Adrian had partied himself out at some point, and everyone remembered it with a laugh as they told me about the ambitious plans for the evening. It had already been agreed that my accent was much more coherent than Adrian's, and they were anxious to see if I could compete favorably with Adrian's non-verbal antics as well.

There was a special, for Halloween, on Tequilla. I was also repeatedly warned that I was going to be drinking some of a local specialty called "Schnapps". I, of course, thought that was kinda funny, because Schnapps is everywhere. Well, apparently "Schnapps" doesn't translate in Slovenian to "fruity liquor". Instead, it translates to "moonshine", which made that first taste a little shocking.

It should be noted that I had not yet actually ordered a drink, and that I can't understand a lick of Slovenian. But, I would occasionally hear, in the ongoing dialogue with the wait-staff, my name spoken. That was my warning that another drink of some sort was coming. When another of Mojca's friends joined us and was told she had to have a Tequilla to keep up, and expressed distaste at the mention of one of my favorite liquors, I couldn't help but tell here that Tequilla would happily be a good friend if she would only give it a chance.

Which earned me the right of joining her in the round.

We all enjoyed the local pub for a while before heading off into the woods somewhere to a fascinating structure which was acting as a concert venue and pub. I excused myself from the concert room to get a beer before someone started bringing me more shots, and was stopped at the bar by a local who was really excited that I was a foreigner. I poured my beer into my glass and chatted with him (young people in Slovenia all speak English) for a few minutes, and started getting enthusiastic introductions to everyone who walked up to the bar. I was a novelty of some sort, I guess, and everyone was positively grinning to chat with me.

Then I turned to pick up my beer glass and found a surprise- apparently each and every person who had realized I was a visitor had bought me a beer, and I had a whole row lined up behind my glass. Which was a stunning gesture of welcome and also a complete digestive impossibility at this point in the evening.

I ended up out on the patio eating roasted chestnuts and hiding from any other friendly people trying to push me warmly over the edge. I slept in a guest room in the farmhouse, and we woke up in the late morning to return directly to the pub. Because it was the only place for coffee.

My laptop joined us, and I watched everyone dig through my photos while I wondered what they thought was so funny.



Then we did something I haven't done enough of in Europe, wandered quietly around a picturesque countryside, this one right around the village:






The wandering party in front of a monument to a WWII battle that took place in the village:



That night, Mojca drove me out to her family's place, about an hour away. Her parents have a beautiful home, and they both spoke flawless English, having lived briefly in the states. I spent that night in one of the most comfortable beds I'd seen in months and enjoyed the other comforts of a real home. Including an indoor swing-set.

The next day, I met a real weird guy who creeped me out. Mojca had to go to class, so she and her mother dropped me off at a crossroads with a sign that said "Bled" and told me to stick out my thumb, which is apparently a common way to travel in Slovenia. It proved true, and a very friendly older fellow who lives half the year in Germany and have in Slovenia picked me up, drove me to Bled, did a circuit around the little town to get me oriented, and dropped me off not 100 meters from a youth hostel. There I checked in, went to my room, and met a Scientologist from New York who was about 55, weird, and really stinky. He trapped me into disconcerting conversation for a good 30 minutes before I escaped to explore Bled.

Bled is a beautiful little town situated around a small lake which has one small island on it. It also has fabulous views of the mountains when the fog lifts, which it never did. There's a big castle up on a bluff above the town, and a
big church out on the island. I got a kick out of pondering the thought process that spawned the church, but never found out what it was.

I spent one night in Bled and then planned to leave the next day. I spent the morning wandering around with an American named Lauren, who lives in Seattle. By evening I still hadn't left, and we had met a lovely set of Australian twins, Sana and Daniel, and the four of us had a very gelatinous traditional Bled dessert while I missed the last bus for the night. I went and checked back into the hostel, and managed to keep my "never the same bed twice" streak alive as I was put into a room with my new friends rather than with the stinky Scientologist.

The next day, Lauren and I failed miserably to catch the early bus back to Ljubljana, which meant she was going to miss her train unless we became resourceful, which we did:



This was Friday, and I was supposed to be in Ferrara, Italy, to spend the weekend with my Italian friends from Vienna, who would be busy during the week. The hostel in Ljubljana was full, so I booked a train leaving for Ferrara at 3 am, and wandered around the town checking out some of the sites:
The Dragon Bridge-



Ljubljana Castle:



The castle is open and has public spaces built into it now: a cafe, a restaurant, an open chapel, a museum, etc. I wandered around it and stumbled across 5 fellows singing together in the chapel. I think they were just trying out the acoustics: there were only about 4 of us listening and they only sang one song, but it was rad.

I headed back to the hostel to hang about in the lounge until it was time to catch my train, and as I walked past a hotel, Sana and Daniel walked out of it. The three of us had dinner and checked out the town a bit, having a delightful evening which put me on the train in proper condition to sleep despite discomfort.