Slovenia in a day.

I had debated spending a weekend in Bled, but ultimately decide to do a one-day tour, covering Postojna Cave & Predjama Castle in the morning, and Lake Bled and Bled Castle in the afternoon.

Nina picks me up in a van. There are five of us waiting on the corner; an Indian couple from the UK and a couple from Arkansas outside of Little Rock. I had arrived early and saw a van parked in the pick up spot. One day tour of Slovenia? I asked. Yes, the driver said. You must wait for another, though. You’re not on my list. I thank him and he drives off, his van full.

Snow has fallen overnight and the city looks beautiful under the snow. Nina tells us that it’s the second snowfall of the year and that it should linger for a little while in the morning, but will melt off by the afternoon. I’m happy to have been able to see the city under snow.

Once we’re loaded into our van Nina drives towards the ring road before driving southwest. I see signs for Trieste and assume that this will be the route I’ll travel tomorrow when I head there. She tells us about the area, about the marshland we drive through, about Jason and the Argonauts and the dragon Jason vanquished. She tells us also we’ll be seeing little dragons in the caves, a nickname they’ve given the sightless salamander who reside inside. They can live up to 100 years, and go without food for six to seven years. When we do see them, I’ll be amazed at how much they really do resemble dragons.

She asks us if we know how many dragons there are on the famous bridge in Ljubljana and I hazard a guess. Four? Four large dragons, she tells us. But there are an additional 16 smaller dragons for a total of 20. I’ll have to look for them when I’m back in Ljubljana.

She keeps a running commentary, dropping knowledge about Slovenia as she drives.

She tells us that almost 60% of Slovenia is forestland. Twenty percent are owned by the government, another twenty by private individuals. The remaining sixty percent are owned by the Catholic church, who make a lot of money selling it for timber.

She tells us they found the worlds oldest wooden wheel with an axel in the marshes. We can see it at the city museum in the city, which is well worth it for the exhibits. I make a note. 

She tells us that there are about 1,000 brown bears in the country, along with 150 wolves and thousands of deer. She tells us that Postojna, the town after which the caves are named, means Eagle Hill. Once an eagle lived below the castle on the hill. Unfortunately, lightning struck the castle in the 15th century, burning it to the ground. The castle destroyed, the eagle left as well; only the name remains.

Nina parks the van in the lot and leads us to the ticket booth. She tells us that we can buy a combined ticket that will include the cave and the castle for a discount if we want. We all do. She tells us to meet her outside at 0940 and leaves us to take refreshments at the cafe. At the appointed time she leads us to the entrance. A line has formed but she tells us not to concern ourselves with it and leads us in when they open. There are different lines for different languages and we find ourselves at the front of the English line.

We’re loaded onto an electric train, a cute engine leading a series cars. It all feels almost Disneyesque. An alarm sounds and we head into the caves, a 12 minute journey through narrow passages that open up into broad rooms. At the end, we’re invited to disembark and begin our 4km walk. The entire caves stretch 24km, but we’ll be seeing only a small portion of it.

The guide pauses at various points, explicating the cave system and speaking to how it’s been formed. At our first stop she tells us to turn around to see the oldest formation, some 470,000 years old.

At our deepest point we’ll be 70 meters below ground as we wind our way around the the system. At a bridge our guide pauses to tell us it joins the old and new cave areas. The older areas were all explored originally by torch and candlelight; the new areas all by electricity. She tells us to note three rooms as we walk through: one named the Spaghetti Hall for the formations of the stalagtites that look like noodles, one a White Hall, another the Red Hall. the guide tells us that the caves have been lit for the holidays and so the colors may not completely match what we have in mind.

The complex is huge, some of the halls breathtakingly large. When we find ourselves towards the end the guide stops us and asks us where we think we are. It’s easy to get disoriented in the caves and she tells us that we’re directly underneath the Spaghetti Hall. the bridge we crossed will be right above us as we exit the hall.

We wind our way towards the end of our explorations and the guide stops us by a video that shows an olms, one of the pale salamanders that call the cave home. There’s a tank just beyond and she cautions us not to take photos or to shine lights on them as they could affect their lifespan. She tells us that the cave is also home to spiders and beetles, who live further down in the caves past the areas open for visitors.

It’s difficult to see the olms in the semi-dark tanks, but once my eyes adjust I see one just at the base of a rock, slowly moving towards the gravel at the bottom of the tank. Looking through another pane to the right i can see three arranged on a rock, looking very much like baby dragons. Another wanders along the floor.

We exit to the Concert Hall, the largest in the cave. The guide tells us an echo can last six seconds and encourages those of us who can to sing. A Christmas tree is decorated with lights in the shape of an olm. The path funnels us through a small gift shop with a post office box. A sign tells us that the it’s the only cave post office in the world and I purchase a post card to send to my parents. The cancellation stamp will come from the caves.

I take the train back outside and buy a sandwich from the cafe to eat later. We head to the Predjama castle, built out of a natural cave. Along the way she tells us the story of Erazem, a Slovenian Robin Hood who robbed commercial caravans between Vienna and what is now Italy’s Trieste. Once captured and held in Ljubljana castle, he bribed a guard to let his cell remain unlocked after which he escped by climbing down through a toilet. The road to freedom, he said, smells like shit.

He hid out in Predjama Castle, which was laid seige by the governor of Trieste. He used tunnels through the caves behind the castle to venture out for food; there was no fear of famine. Finally, the Austrian soldiers bribed one of the servants who betrayed Erazem. When he went to the lavatory, the servant lit a candle as a signal to the soldiers below who launched a single rock from a catapult which killed him. He said to have died on the toilet.

Nina confesses that it’s a story passed down from the 15th century to the 17th when it was finally written down. Who knows how it’s been embellished through the centuries.

I take an audio guide at the entrance and begin my exploration through the castle. The route winds its way up and around. In the first room there’s a portrait of Erazem beside a coat of arms. We pass a dining room and a kitchen and see the toilet where Erazem was killed. Near the top, past the chapel a bell hangs in a window. A sign says to make a wish and ring the bell for it to come true. I kneel down, make my wish, and ring the bell. Afterwards I’ll hear others ringing the bell as they discover the same.

In the back of the castle there’s an entrance to the cave through which Erazem found his secret path to the village. A cistern captures fresh water dripping through the soil. I climb up to the highest point we’re allowed to go. A sign advertises trips through Erazem’s passage as well as other trips through nearby caves.

Leaving the castle I turn around to take one last look before heading to the van.

in the van. I ask Nina if I can eat in the van. She says it’s ok with her.

We drive back the way we came to the city, dropping off the couple from Arkansas before heading north west to Bled. We pass a huge Union sign and she tells us that this used to be the second-largest brewery in Slovenia. It’s since been bought by the largest brewery, which was then bought by Heinekein. So far things remain unchanged, which she says is good. Union comes in red bottles and is slightly sweeter. Laško comes in green bottles and is slightly bitter.

She also tells us that the roads leading from Ljubljana are all named for the destinations and tells us that the current street we’re on is named for a town in Austria. She continues telling us about Slovenia, but I can’t keep my eyes open and doze off.

I wake up again as we near Bled. She’s telling us about the cakes we can get on the island and also the vanilla cream cakes we can get at the castle. She tells us that they originated at a hotel in Bled. The recipe was sold to a larger baker in the country and now that bakery mass produces the cakes and they can be found everywhere. Still, she tells us, people will talk about heading to Bled to get them.

She also tells us about the largest mountain in Slovenia, which she points out on the horizon. It’s tradition in Slovenia to climb the mountain once in your life; otherwise you’re not a true Slovenian. Once at the top, it’s also tradition to get spanked with a rope on your first time.
In Bled, she tells us that once we get to the island we’ll see 99 steps. You can get married on the island, and tradition states that the groom must carry the bride up the 99 steps in order to do so.

When we reach Bled she drives us to the pletna dock. She tells us that she’s called ahead and there’ll be a pletna man waiting for us; usually the last boat leaves around 16h. The pletna boats are all made in Bled out of wood. They’re flat-bottomed and Nina tells us to listen to the pletna man’s instructions for embarking and disembarking.

It’s a man’s profession, rowing the pletna, passed down from generation to generation. These days its mostly sons plying the river, though there are still a few fathers plying their trade.

The pletna man asks us to wait to see if others might be coming. We’re in no rush and are happy to sit on the boat. I comment on how interesting this role is still gendered and we wonder how long that will continue, whether tradition will win our or eventual need will break down the barriers.

With no one approaching the pletna man tells us we can head out. He picks up the oars and pushes us off the shore. Shortly after he gets a call. Another van has arrived. He motions for them to come to the shore near where we are and another vanload of people board our boat.

There’s a group of three women and one seems to recognize me. She wonders if I’m the same . . . her friend contradicts her. I ask if she had noticed a handsome single man that she remembers seeing and she laughs. She asks if I was standing in front of the hotel in Ljubljana and I say I was. I ask if she is in the van that told me it was full. She says yes; that’s where she saw me. I couldn’t see inside the van and hadn’t seen them there.

As we paddle towards the island she says she imagines a lot of people get proposed to on the lake and how lovely it would be. I ask her if she’s fishing and her friend laughs.

On the island we climb the steps up to the cafe and church. I pay to tour the church, ring the bell, and then climb the bell tower for the views. With time to spare I climb down the back of the hill and walk around to catch views of the shore and the castle perched high on a cliff. I climb the 99 steps again and tour the museum, buying a few post cards before heading back outside.

At the appointed time I head back down to the dock. The pletna man collects our fare before allowing us back on board.

Back at the van Nina asks us what we want to do. We can have free time or head to the castle. We unanimously choose the castle; we all want to try the cake.

At the entrance we run into the three Americans. Their guide buys them tickets and I hear that they come with the cake. Hey! How do we get the cake tickets, I ask. The guide tells us we’ll have to choose him next time.

Nina encourages us to climb to the top to catch the light before we do anything else. A group stands on the ramparts and I hear a bottle pop. It’s a birthday and they sing the birthday song, glasses raised. One of the Americans tells me that it’s also the birthday of someone in their group and i wish them a happy birthday when i see her later.

I take photos of the UK couple and then tour a small museum before heading to the restaurant asking about the cake. They tell me I can get it at a cafe one the floor below.

We walk to the cafe and order pastries and coffee. I have to pay for mine. Jersey offers to share hers but it’s unclear how much we may like it. It may not be something to share. 

We chat about accents and travel and home. Minnesota ultimately wants to move back to her home town. She loves it there and it reminds me of something Nina has said. I asked her what she loves about Slovenia and she tells me the nature. She has many places where she can sit for hours and watch the scenery change around her. She lives in the town she grew up in and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Providence on the other hand wants to travel. She’s moved around a lot; her mother is in the foreign service, and while that’s not the path she sees herself on she wants to be able to live around the world. I tell her I’ve been doing that, usually circling through South America, Africa, and Europe, and she tells me her grandmother used to do that.

We talk about regional accents and I mention to Minnesota that she doesn’t seem to have one. She tells me she surpresses it because people needle her for it, but when she heads up north it comes out in force. She lets it slip and I tell her it’s like she’s a completely different person. Jersey needles Providence for the way she pronounces gnocci, which isn’t a Rhode Island thing at all; I suggest it’s from the United States of Chandra.

I look over and Jersey has finished her cake. Good thing I got my own I say. She accuses me of not helping her, forcing her to finish her own. 

It’s dark and our appointed meeting times come nigh. I clear the table and we head back to the parking lot. Providence talks about how much she’s loved being here and how she longs to travel; Minnesota says she wants to go home. Jersey remarks how they’re two sides of a coin. I tell Providence I hope that I run into her somewhere else in the world. I tell her I’m not going to give her my contact information; it’ll be like the movie. Serendipty, Jersey says. Though later I’ll hedge my bets. I’ve given Jersey my number in the event I can help connect her husband to someone in his chosen profession. When she texts me I tell her to feel free to share my contact info with the others if they want recommendations for South America or Africa. Minnesota almost chose to go to Argentina before she settled on Spain. Jersey tells me she might ask my advice. She wants to go to Namibia and Botswana in 2025.

Back in Ljubljana we run into bus traffic. Nina tells me it’s especially crowded now with buses coming from Austria, Croatia, and the rest of Slovenia for tours of the Christmas market. It explains why the squares and streets spill over on the weekends. She drops us off where we started and I bid adieu to her and to the couple from the UK; we all wish each other well.

Over the castle, the moon rises full, illuminating the clouds around it. The squares and streets are full. Music plays, people dance. Christmas is but a week and a half away… 🇸🇮