18 to 24 May - Trekking around Slovenia

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After being released from the gentle clutches of my relatives, Gina and I head north in le petit pois. As usual we haven't got a clear plan of exactly where we'd like to be but we thought we might head for the upper Soča valley. This is up against the Italian border and scene of a lot of carnage during the First World War but as my relatives tell me over and over, one of the most picturesque places in Slovenia.

Heading up the autocesta from Novo Mesto, we call in one last time to visit some of my father’s relatives in Dolenja Vas. We are without Ellen who is staying in Novo Mesto for an undetermined time and we tell all that she’ll be around for a visit – particularly Mirjam (my cousin Roman’s daughter, she schools in Ljublana) and Tilen (my cousin Irma’s son).

After a pleasant time wrapping up our visit, we head off skirting around Ljublana and make our way west in the direction of the Italian border. It’s pretty late by the time we make it to Tolmin, the first major town in the Soča valley. We know our accommodation options will be limited as none of the towns are all that large, and I haven’t done a lot of research to prepare. After a quick scout around the town we opt for the Hotel Krn on the main square in the town centre. We’d been warned about this hotel by relatives but Gina was getting a bit tired and her nerves getting a little frayed so locking down a place quickly was very important. The hotel was fairly tired and looked as if it had run out of money for a desperately needed upgrade quite a few years ago. What really set the hotel apart from others was the scatty manageress that ran the place. On finding the reception empty, we wandered into the main bar area to find this woman organising a large group of bike riders with their accommodation. Looking at her we could only think what have we got ourselves in for. She looked like a cross between a 60’s bikie chick and Dame Edna Everage complete with beehive hairdo and sparkling lipstick. And her control of the riding group didn’t leave us with much confidence – passports and room keys were being waved around the place and the riders looked very bemused about exactly where they would be sleeping tonight. As we were waiting our turn, I whispered to Gina one more time if we should instead take the hotel across the way at twice the price. But we held our nerve and the room didn’t turn out too bad. The views from our room across the square and up into the Alps were pretty good and the hot water in the bathroom was… very hot.

That evening we popped across to the Youth Hostel for a drink and a tip for dinner. We’d taken a quick scout around town after checking into our room and despite it being Friday, there weren’t too many options jumping out at us. The guys at the youth hostel suggest a place on the road out of town and leaving the car behind, we head off for the quick walk. After trekking out to the edge of town we doubled back and asked for clarification on directions from a lady working her vegie garden. She assured us we were on the right track but that we’d needed to walk to the next village, which we could just see over the horizon, but it was some distance away. We finally made the gostilna Zatolmin to find it a very popular place and had a terrific meal. The walk there and back through the fields and in the dark was certainly worth it.

The next day we check out of the Hotel Krn after first enduring probably the worst breakfast ever – a buffet tray full of things that are appeared totally inedible at that time of the day – salami’s, mortadella and salad, coffee that is bitter and undrinkable and music that is loud and jumping between heavy metal and polka. And the whole cavern that we were eating in hung with the smell of rancid canola. I hate canola.

After this fiasco we head out of town for a short hike around the Tolmin gorge. It’s a staggeringly pretty place at the confluence of two small rivers that come out of Triglav National Park. The water cuts through a couple of ravines and is the most strikingly vivid emerald green, something we see in tremendous abundance in the Soča river further up and down the valley. We do the walk around the gorge, checking out the “Bears Head”, a rock that has a likeness to the facial features of a bear, wedged between the walls of a ravine and the “Devils Bridge”, a small bridge perched some 6o metres above one of the rivers. After this walk we head a little further up the valley toward the Triglav National Park. We take a good walk up the valley to visit the Church of the Holy Spirit at Javorca, a stone and wood church built by the Austro-Hungarians during the First World War to commemorate their fallen. The names of some 2,600 soldiers of various ethnicities are inscribed on wooden panels on the walls. We chat to the young caretaker of the place and he tells a bit a bout the history of the area. The caretaker must enjoy solitude because the church is a long way up the valley and doesn’t receive too many visitors in a day and all he seems to have for companionship is the odd cow that strolls past, complete with cowbell. He turns out to be a friend of one of my aunt’s relatives, who live in the village of Cadrg located across the other side of the steep valley. My aunt Milka married my father’s brother Janez moving from Cadrg to live in Ljubljana. A small world but unfortunately the relative that our friend the caretaker knows, Walter, was killed whilst diving in the river at the base of the valley.

It’s getting on so after returning to our car we head for the nearby town of Kobarid and settle into the rather swanky Topli Hval hotel. Kobarid is a pretty little town and a mecca for the outdoor sports enthusiast types. On the drive into town we spot something like 35 paragliders hanging in the air at once. After they’ve done their stuff up there, their landing patch is a paddock on the edge of town, and across the road from a bar where they to go afterwards to unwind. We quickly message Ellen to tell her this is her place. The town is also a bit of a magnet for foodies and there are plenty of places offering local produce with a gastronomic spin. In the evening we head out to the Gostiče Jazbec, an inn on the edge of town for a pleasant meal. The next day we explore the town and check out the splendid museum. It provides a very comprehensive portrayal of the First World War. After a feed at an okrepcevalnica, we head further up the Soča valley and decide that we may as well try and make it over Vršič pass – the only way through to the other side of the Triglav National Park.

Just before the ascent to Vršič, we stop at a small village that’s right up the Soča. The river again has that distinctive colour but is quite narrow and racing very rapidly. There are dozens of kayakers out on the water testing themselves. We move on up the valley and start the climb. There are 49 hairpin bends (switchbacks) up to the top of the pass and down the otherside to the town of Kranjska Gora. From the start of the climb its about 700m to the top of the pass which at 1611m is the highest in Slovenian. It was closed last week due to heavy late snow but we are lucky today and we slowly push le petit pois up the road counting each tight switchback as we go. The road is called the Russian Road and named for the Russian POWs who built it. After being overtaken by a number of numbskulls on the ascent, we decide to pull over for a break and take in the magnificent view of the mountains either side of the pass and the valley below.

After clearing the pass we head back in a loop into the heart of Triglav National Park and find an apartment near the beautiful Bohinj Lake, a glacial lake wedged amongst some of the bigger alpine peaks in Slovenia. On the way there we stopped at Lake Bled. It’s the postcard lake of Slovenia but as a result it is totally over run by tourists even in the off season. When we get to Bohinj, we find that we are sharing it with just a handful of people and that’s just fine by us. Over the next couple of days we take long walks by the lake and poke around in the nearby villages. One particular day, we drive to a very remote village that is located at a high altitude. The ascent was really difficult as the road was very narrow and visibility at no more than about 10 metres due to heavy fog and some rain. Gina was very good at impressing on me the need to drive very very carefully. Needless to say the view from the village was not great.

A few days around Bohinj and May was slowing disappearing. Gina and I were mindful that we would eventually need to make a move back to France and so on Tuesday 22 May we decided to leave this little alpine paradise and head over towards the Italian border. We travelled to the border on the autocesta. As we neared, we bawked about crossing, and instead headed south to check out Istra. This is the little strip of coastline that Slovenia possesses and the hilly hinterland beyond it. The coastline turned out to quite disappointing, the strip of small tourist towns somewhere between Nice and Batemans Bay. The accommodation we were offered was quite awful so we headed up into the hills. The hills of Istra are quite delightful and typical Mediterranean – rocky hills topped with small villages surrounded by small vineyards. We find a nice motel for the evening near the village of Smarje and take a meal in the hunters lodge across the road. I had freshly made fettuccine with a creamy truffle sauce for 9 Euro – absolute killer. We tried some of the local Refosk wine which was pretty good as well.

The next day we headed off from Smarje, again with intentions to cross the Italian border and start the trek back to France. Heading towards the border, we listen to radio and hear nothing but excited Italians yelling loudly at each other. And so we do a u turn and head up the autocesta to Ljubljana. After a stroll around the very pretty old town centre, we know we have to start the return, and so we head off instead in the direction of Austria. We quickly cross Austria and enter Germany just as we are hit by an almighty storm that makes daylight turn to night. Doesn’t hamper traffic on the autobahn though and it continues on unabated at 130km and hour except for the tunnel passages where speed limits are dutifully enforced. We spend the night in the small town of Zusmarshausen before heading off the next day for a look around the very picturesque medieval town of Tubingen. Disappointingly the smog of southern Germany was everywhere and so we continued on into France to get away from it. We travelled something like 1100kms on that final day but we were determined to finish at Argenton despite our weariness. In fact the last couple of hours as we passed through the broad wheat fields around Auxerre were just delightful – the setting sun turned the wheat a golden brown colour that was impossible not to stare at. After arriving back at Argenton we decided we’d definitely head back and explore some of the small towns near Auxerre, in particular Pontigny and Montigny-la-Resle.

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Photos

View from the Hotel Krn
Notice the dilapidated pool bottom right.