Predjama Party
Given the time of year we have chosen to travel and the pace with which we move from place to place, we don’t often get the chance to uncover the often unusual or inspiring stories of fellow travellers but in the small Slovene village of Kozina, about eighty kilometres southwest of Ljubljana, we bumped into a very interesting couple indeed. One French, the other Peruvian, they had recently decided to quit their stable jobs, sell their apartment on the outskirts of Bordeaux, and purchase an aging camper in which they had recently started living in and travelling. What separated them from every other hipster van dweller was that they were on their way to Peru… with their daughter… who they were home-schooling in the back.
She had just finished her history lesson when she emerged from the passenger seat and joined us to practice her English which was, unsurprisingly, better than mine. With her father saying she was happier, healthier, and learning more about the world than she ever could have done back home, it certainly gives food for thought on the merits of more unconventional lifestyles. She certainly looked like a cheery soul and was more than happy to recommend that we visit a nearby cave system she’d been to earlier in the week which, with little else to do deep in the Slovenian countryside, seemed like an ideal plan.
What we were not expecting, however, was one of the largest cave systems in Europe. Postojna Cave has been visited by ‘tourists’ as far back as 1213, and it isn’t difficult to see why. So long in length that a mini train service is required to get from the entrance of the cave to the Concert Hall, its majestic main chamber, it made Dan-yr-Ogof look like someone’s basement. Visited by Francis I, the first emperor of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, as well as Archduke Ferdinand, it is now one of the most visited cave systems in the world with over one million annual visitors. Filled with your usual stalagmites, stalactites, and draperies that look like folded curtains, its most remarkable attraction was a living, breathing one. The proteus, or baby dragon, is the longest-living of all amphibians averaging over a hundred years of age. Slimy, toxic, cave-dwelling, and with serpent-like features, Jacob Rees-Mogg would’ve certainly enjoyed the visit.
When ruminating on Slovenia, one could be forgiven for thinking only of high mountain passes and azuline lakes; however, make your way to its compact coastline and behold some of the finest and most charming Venetian towns this side of you-know-where. Our first stop, Izola, is one such destination. Once an island that served the Venetian navy, it is now better known for its clock tower, which catching sight of is the only way to orientate oneself when meandering the labyrinth of narrow side streets. Finding our way around was made all the more challenging after several Laškos, the local brew, but needs must.
The following morn, our last in Slovenia, took us a little further along the Adriatic seaboard to Piran. More well known than its near neighbour, we made the wise choice of leaving Vishnu as far away from the old town as we possibly could as driving through it would have been impossible, as well as illegal. While trying to actively repel campers, coach loads of American tourists are actively encouraged and, at times, it felt as though we were walking through a megamall in Milwaukee rather than a medieval Mediterranean municipality.
Its central square is, once again, overlooked by a commanding tower, this time a part of a Renaissance church above the town. The exquisite Tartini Square was once an inner marina that was filled in and turned into a meeting and marketplace for local Italians, as they were at the time. Nowadays, the once marginal Slovenian language and culture here are continuing to strengthen although a few words of Italiano would certainly go a long way. But for now, we abandon our first Balkan nation and head to another; famed for its pebbled beaches, fantastic film sets, walled cities, and stags, lots and lots of stags.
J
