bleding hearts

3:14 27 July, halfway up the hill

I am sitting on a moss covered tree, angled just so as to create a natural cushoned bench. Down below, the torquois waters of Lake Bled are so calm that even the brilliantly shining sun is unable to cast sparkels out over the beautifully clear water. Bled, a summer vacation town in northern Slovenia, is almost indescribably beautiful. I pity those that grew up here, as there is little in the world they can visit that will ever match the tranquility and perfection of this little town. Rising up from the lake, on vertical column of limestone, sits Bled Castle, so prositioned that Disnesy animators would have rejection it's design for being unrealistically fairytale-esque. To further embelish the fairytale, a single island dots Lake Bled, with a small abby from which a single tower sticks up prominatly above the foiliage. I have only been here for 30 mins. and I'm alraedy wonderinf if 3 nightss will be enough. First though, let me describe to you the circumstances of my arrival.

Lake Bled, from the trail up the hill

I left Ljubljana with two Americans who were spending the next few nights in the hostel I was leaving from. Agreeing to my suggestion that they check out Bled, the three of us boarded a bus for the short hour and a half ride north through the mountains. I exited the train early, when I saw the neighboring town's train station, which is where I was supposed to wait for the shuttle service to my hostel. I arranged to meet up with the Americans in the city center in an hour and a half, and quickly collected my things. After buying an inexpensive Slovenian phone card, I called the hostel and was informed by the gentleman that the shuttle would be along in 20 - 30 mins. Seeing that I had some time, I sat down at the train station cafe and ordered a small lunch (a panini & beer) and waited. 5 mins. later, before the panini had even come out, the shuttle aarrived, and I hurried over to explain that I needed to pay for my food. I was a little disapointed to have missed out on the panini, but since this was a free shuttle, I didn't want to make them wait. However, the driver was rather short with me, and it took some talking to secure a promise from him to wait for two minutes while I went inside and paid for my food. Hurrying inside, I grabbed my check, paid the hostess, hurriedly collected my things, and ran outside. No shuttle. I looked around to see if he had just left to park, but no, he had left for good. So cursing him under my breath, I decided to go back to the cafe, finish my meal, and then call the hostel again.

"I'm not comming back to get you, if you want to come to the hostel, you will have to find a way" and then an abrubt disconnection, was the reply to my querry as to what had happened earlier. Quite taken aback, I was now, under no circumstances, going to stay at this hostel. Forsaking the $6 deposit, I went into the tourist office to find a map of the area (since I had arranged to meet with the shuttle in the neighboring town, I was now a ways away from Bled). In the tourist office, I was met with hospitality of the polar opposite demonstrated by the shuttle. They provided me with a map, they attempted (unsucessfully) to call the shuttle service back, and then they gave me a selection of available hostels in the area, and arranged for me to stay at one for the three nights I would be in Bled. I was even lucky enough to find that the owner was right near the train station, and within 2 mins. my things were in her car, and I was wizzing off to my new hostel.

Walt Disney [to animators]: "No one's going to believe this, make it less fairly tale-esque."

I am so grateful for the assistance of the tourist office, and I am incredibly happy with my new hostel. It's an eight minute walk from the lake, with comfortable rooms equipped with a balcony overlooking the mountains. There's a terrific little guest kitchen, and tomorrow I hope to borrow the complimentary hostel bicycle to bike around town. After cancelling my booking at the other hostel, I think things will have worked out for the best, and I'm looking forward to my next few days in Bled. Foor now: onwards up to the castle!

20:00 29 July, Hotel Hacienda in Bled

Wow, a lot has happened since I was halfway up that hill. First off, I made it to the top, only to find that I had gone up an old access road to the castle that lead to what might be a secret entrance/exit, but it was securely locked. Frustrated with having climbed all this way just to descend and come back another way, I decided to see if I could find someplace where I could scale the castle wall. Having made my way along the cliffside (very safe, I promise) I found a promising point of attack, and was soon on the other, touristy, side of the castle wall. I was also right in front of the admission booth, so my efforts at espionage did not net me free admission. However, the castle was well worth the student-discounted price of admission. The views are fantastic, and the museum the first I've been to in Slovenia - did a good job of acquainting me with the history of Bled. I lingered at the castle, occasionally offering to take couples' pictures, and generally enjoying the view. I stopped into the wine cellar to check out the wines, and was surprised to find that there were some that were in the neighborhood of affordability. I had wanted to pick up a nice Slovenian wine ever since I learned that Slovenia is home to the oldest vines in the world. Not wanting anything too pricey, but still nice, I bought a 7 euro bottle from the joking monk whose abbey had operated the cellar for hundreds of years. I then stopped into the castle print shop, mostly because of my family's bookbinder heritage, and chatted with the attendant. The Gutenberg-styled printing machine they had was fantastically authentic, and the attendant was very knowledgeable about original (as in: 500 year-old) printmaking and binding processes.

Inside the castle.

Leaving the castle with my wine and a small printed page, I made my way back to my hostel by way of the grocery store, where I picked up a few provisions. Breakfast and dinner items thus purchased (including what my mother would call a bottle of CWW, cheap white wine), I had a little trouble finding my way back to the hostel, but after consulting my map, I was back in no time. Not, however, before tragedy struck. While crossing a street, I heard a tear and a pop, and looking down I saw the 7 euro bottle of wine quickly draining onto the street. Trying to not let this loss get to me, I prepared a pasta dinner, which I consumed in the company of two girls from Manchester, and two guys from Canada. I declined an invitation to check out the nightlife of Bled from the girls (knowing from other people's stories that there is no night life in Bled, a conclusion later drawn by the girls) and chatted with the Canadians for a good long while. We were later joined by a Hungarian who offered us some of his grandfather's wine, which wasn't half bad. All in all, a good night.

The next morning, I prepared my customarily large breakfast, and then set about investigating claims of a hostel bike. Finding such a bike, I grabbed my camera and headed in the direction of the lake. After getting my own copy of the picture that led me to come to Bled (with the island and the castle in the same shot) I lingered and watched a mother duck with her ducklings entertain the lake-goers. Lazily relaxing by the lake, I came across what appeared to be a walking stick, or possibly a fishing spear, I don't really know. I decided to upgrade it by stripping off the bark, and weaving into a comfortable grip. If anyone would like to know where I acquired this weaving skill, ask me some time about the basket weaving course that I took in Boy Scouts that left me with one of my more obvious scars.

The picture that launched a thousand ships... or at least one flight from Copenhagen, and one bus from Ljubljana.

It takes a long time to sneak up on a (flock?) of sleeping duckings when mama's around.

Admiring my handiwork.

Securing my new walking spear to my bike, I backtracked to where I had seen a sign for the neighboring lake. Lake Bled is the famous Alpine Resort of Slovenia, and most of the Balkans. However, there is another lake, Lake Bohinj, that is larger, less developed, and worth visiting. So when I saw signs to this lake, I decided to head toward it.

The road to Lake Bohinj

Even without the detour that I would end up taking halfway up a mountain, it's a long way from Lake Bled to Lake Bohinj. All tolled, I logged just under 50 km. on my bike that day, almost all of it absolutely beautiful. I rode through tiny alpine hamlets and rugged mountain passes. I stopped once to liberate an apple from an overburdened apple tree, and against my New English heritage: it was one of the best I've ever tasted. About 4 hours into my ride, I stopped at a gas station to fill up on calories and just about any kind of beverage they were willing to sell to me. The calories were provided by Jaffa Cakes, which have a history of providing me with sustenance during long journeys (a package purchased before a train ride from Brussels to Berlin would prove near-lifesaving). The beverage I selected because it had a picture of a person riding a bicycle, and I figured it would be appropriate.

Not exactally health food, but it did the job.

If you look closely at the bottom of the can, you'll notice the phrase: "pivo in limonade". The third word is easy enough to work out, "in" means "with", and "pivo"... well, "pivo" is Slovenian for "beer". "Beer with Lemonade". 50% beer, 50% lemonade... weird. But after a long ride, it satisfied the "any beverage they were willing to sell me" requirement, and I quickly put 1000 calories worth of food and drink into me, and continued on my way.

After some stops, I eventually made it to the lake at around 6:00. After enjoying a light lunch by the lake, during with thunder began to rumble over the mountains, I retreated inside to wait out a light shower. Emerging after only about 15 minutes, I mounted my bike, and cycled to the other side of the lake. This was a really neat ride, because the sun was shining down on the freshly rain watered road, casting up bits of mist that fit perfectly with the alpine surroundings. From the other side of the lake, it was another 20 minutes to a locally-revered waterfall, and the ride took me though the White Forest, so named (by me) because it was entirely populated by birch trees growing amongst moss-covered outcroppings of limestone.

Finally arriving at the waterfall, I paid a small admission fee, and climbed for another 20 minutes to see one of the more unique waterfalls I've ever seen. Slovenia is famous for their magic waterfalls, shoots of water that seemingly come from nowhere. Because of the limestone terrain, rivers often vanish for miles underground, only to reemerge in spectacular fashion. The falls, and the view, made all 7 hours of the ride worth it.

The view...

...and the falls.

I cycled back to the far side of the lake, and from there I was able to catch a bus back to Lake Bled. Loading my bike underneath, I climbed in and despite trying to fight against it, promptly fell asleep for the hour-long ride back. Today, after another excellent breakfast, I repeated my cycling habits, albeit in a less intense fashion. Having a general aversion to swimming, I did not bring a bathing suit with me on my travels. However, today I decided that life only gives you so many opportunities to swim in an alpine lake and you'd be foolish to pass them up. So I packed a towel into my camera bag, and mounted ol' faithful (as I've just now dubbed her). Cycling around the perimeter of the lake, I found a nice private place where I could take a dip. While I did not have a bathing suit, I did have travel boxers. Travel underwear is fantastic, I highly recommend it to you despite its $50 for two pair cost. The best thing about travel underwear is that it dries wicked quick, and so, because the day was hot and the water cool, I stripped down to my skivvies and took the plunge. I was in the water for less than an hour, but it was nice, and after jumping out I was fully dry inside of 10 minutes.

A good day starts with a hull breakfast and an excellent view.

As I was collecting my things, I came across the largest snake skin I've ever seen. Extracting it from the grass, I measured it out to be just over 1.5 meters (4.5 feet). I'll just have to wait and see if Asia or South America can exceed these standards.

After the lake, I biked through the countryside to Vintgar Gorge, which is, well, a gorge. Once again, the curious combination of flowing water and limestone produced fantastically photogenic results, and a really enjoyable walk. Like the other lakes and rivers in the area, the water in Vintgar Gorge is so clear that fish are clearly visible at depths exceeding 8 meters. With binoculars, it was easy to see these river dwellers at a level of clarity that I've only experienced in aquariums.

It was gorges, no? Haha, I owe Ithica College $0.05 now.

There was a seriously high canyon wall.

Cycling back from Vintgar Gorge, I've been spending the rest of my day relaxing. I made a couple of cheese sandwiches and sipped Schweppes Bitter Lemon (unequivocally the best soft drink ever made, besides maybe Gini) as I read my book from my hostel terrace. Tonight, I'm going to see about posting these entries online from a wireless signal in town (you'll obviously know whether or not I'm successful) and packing my things for tomorrow's trip to Piran. I hope everyone's doing well back home. Leave a mailing address in the comments section if you'd like a postcard from somewhere along my travels! (*I already have the mailing addresses of family members)