Slovenia: Europe’s stunning surprise

By Travel Tale-Tellers

Karen and Bruce Clark

We thought at first that maybe Slovenia was that miserable,

mythical country created by Al Capp in his cartoon, “L’il Abner.” But

Bruce was pretty certain that Capp’s creation was actually Slobbovia.

We were in the neighborhood, so why not pay a visit? Along with our

little black mutt Roka, we were on our way from Venice to northern

Croatia on our 39-foot trawler Avanti. Slovenia was right on the

path.

Besides, we had heard about the country’s Alpine mountains in the

north, quiet harbors on the Adriatic Sea in the south, and an ancient

unspoiled capital city -- Ljubljana -- that survived World War II

undamaged. So we pointed Avanti toward Slovenia. Turned out to have

been a flash of brilliance.

Slovenia was formerly the northernmost part of Yugoslavia, created

in 1918 at the end of World War I after the Austro-Hungarian Empire

collapsed. It declared its independence from Yugoslavia in 1991, then

successfully repelled a brief but ill-advised armed attempt by the

Serbs to retain control. There are only a few seaports in Slovenia,

all on the Adriatic Sea just south of Trieste, Italy. We headed

Avanti to Izola, the port with the biggest marina.

A Slovenian welcome

As we pulled into port, we were greeted by music and hundreds of

cheering Slovenes. We were impressed and flattered by the welcome,

but it turned out the cheering was actually for the Slovenian Olympic

bronze medal winner in sailing, an Izola native, who was returning

home victorious from Athens. We joined the party, drank the tasty

local beer and danced a polka or two.

It took less than two hours to reach Ljubljana, the capital city,

in our rental car. We had no hotel reservations, as usual, but

located the fabulous four-star Grand Hotel Union. Built in 1905, it

is an elegant old hotel just a block from the historic main square.

Luckily for Roka, it welcomes dogs.

Ljubljana is a small version of Prague, full of cafes lining the

Ljubljanica River that meanders through town. There is live music on

the street corners and piazzas and a bustling medieval center.

Families and young lovers stroll the riverbanks in the evening.

During the day, farmers peddled flowers and vegetables in the

large open-air market across the river from our hotel.

The next morning, we walked up to the 1,000-year-old castle on the

hill above the town, an easy 15-minute stroll from the main square.

Bled is in the name

Our primary destination was Lake Bled, pronounced just the way

it’s written. It takes less than an hour from Ljubljana to get to

Bled, driving north toward the Austrian border past manicured fields,

low-forested foothills and an occasional small village.

Frankly, Lake Bled looks fake -- too perfect -- a setting out of a

magical fairy tale. Sleeping Beauty would be a fitting resident.

The lake is small -- maybe a mile across -- and deep blue. Green,

forested hills rise on all sides. Tiny rowboats ply its waters.

Seagulls collect on the shore.

Rising in the middle of the lake is a tiny island graced by a

small church with a high spire, from which a massive bell peals each

hour and irregularly in between. Completing the fairy-tale picture,

an immense 12th-century castle looms over the lake on the far shore,

clinging to a high cliff. The small town of Bled was full of tourists

from Austria, Germany and England.

We drove to the Hotel Vila Bled, the local member of the exclusive

Relais & Chateaux chain. The hotel was halfway around the lake from

the town, a stately mansion set on the lake behind a large formal

garden. The hotel grounds were endless, scattered with lounge chairs

for sunning, sleeping and reading. From the hotel, it was a short

walk to the lake. It was blissful.In the following days, we explored,

renting bicycles in town to ride around the lake. Roka and Karen swam

in the lake after our morning jogs. The lake was warm, fed by the hot

springs that lured wealthy 19th-century Europeans to Bled. Bruce, who

hates any water colder than 80 degrees, declined to participate.

Vila Bled has a small fleet of rowboats for use by hotel guests.

We rowed to Bled Island, where visitors can pull the huge rope that

rings the bell in the church steeple and into town to sample Bled’s

famous cream cake, an overly-sweet vanilla and whipped cream

concoction.

Despite threatening skies and a few downpours, we hiked for hours

in the mountains, reaching the highest peak with the grandest view

over the lake.

In the drizzle, we visited Bled castle, a perfect castle with all

the childhood fairy tale accessories -- ramparts, a tower, moats and

a tiny chapel.

English is spoken here

English is spoken nearly everywhere and not just by those who deal

with tourists. Locals normally speak with a perfect American accent

-- a result of watching American television programs. Most Slovenes

are also fluent in German, Italian and Croatian. They don’t expect

their visitors to speak Slovenian, for good reason. The language is

Slavic and packed with too many consonants and not enough vowels,

decorated with various types of accent marks.

We learned to count to 10 in Slovenian, and the morning greeting

is a simple “dobro jutro.” The Slovenes are kind and friendly people,

so a heart-felt “thank you” in Slovenian -- “hvala” -- became second

nature for us. The Slovenes seemed thrilled at our bumbling attempts

to speak their language, which of course only encouraged us to try

more.

Slovenia is an unexplored gem with an old Europe graciousness, yet

modern and comfortable. The food is reasonably good, but not to be

mistaken for French or Italian. There is little of the petty theft

that now plagues much of the rest of Europe. Prices are reasonable.

The scenery is spectacular, the cities and towns historically

preserved. The people are warm and friendly, all happy to welcome you

to their country and eager for you to like them.

-- Karen and Bruce Clark are Corona del Mar residents.

* TRAVEL TALES runs on Thursdays.

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