A slice of Slovenian heaven

Day 133 Wednesday 26^th June Slovenia Campsite life

“My wife and I don’t feel like we’ve had a holiday until we have spent 3 weeks in a tent”. This is what Hans Christian Anderson told us at dinner last night (he said we will never forget his name) who is camping with his Swedish family and together they like to climb a mountain a day.  Taran was very impressed after being included in their nightly family football game and even more impressed that the mum had some ‘silky moves’ and was 'old' like me.  

 “I’m going to stay today to enjoy the silence of tomorrow”.  I was told this while washing up with a nice older man from the Netherlands.  There are many couples like this on the road, retired and enjoying months at a time travelling around in efficiently run and organised mobile homes.  I think what he meant by this was that he doesn’t have to move on so it is relaxing feel when you know you don’t have to do any packing up for a day or so.  He also told me that Boris as PM was ‘dangerous.’  Our Brexit situation invites much pity out here but also quite a lot of ridicule.

There is such a huge community out here of campers.  I suppose I knew that but now we are on the inside and part of the club it is fascinating.  Out of school holidays the majority are retired couples whose kids have grown up and can now spend a large part of the year travelling.  They are so experienced even down to where they place their rubbish bag.  Or as Kelty noticed last night that the Swiss couple next to us carefully tilt their table every night to avoid dew in the morning.   And they all look so content.  I’m learning on both fronts!  But now the families are also on the road.  Cars bulging with tents, sports equipment, dogs, toys, bikes, all of which are neatly unpacked and a carefully chosen space of grass is transformed into their summer home.  I say ‘neatly’ because this seems to be the unspoken camping law.   There is definitely a noticeable respect amongst campers.  I haven’t once felt neighbourly hostility or encountered any difficulty with other campers.  Only shared stories, helpful advice and curiosity in our travels.

We are now in Slovenia and in our busiest campsite yet, beside a picture postcard Lake Bohinj.   We arrived last night to see rows of campervans.  We were disappointed but it was late, we had no alternative and wild camping is prohibited in this country.  Not that that would stop us but it takes time and effort to find the right place and we didn’t have the energy to do that after 4 hrs of driving from the wonderful bear sanctuary in Croatia.

The last 20 miles of the drive in had been disconcerting in that there was a solid stream of near stationary holiday traffic facing the other way.  Ljubljana bound. Tuesday night?  Where we were going then was  no secret to thousands.   Google explained that the day June 25^th , was Slovenia’s National Day – recalling the declaration of  independence from a disintegrating Yugoslavia in 1991 and kicking off the 10 day war from which Slovenia emerged victorious, successful and free. But for us the traffic only made us wonder what tourist quagmire we might be heading into.

So here we are at Camp Danica greeted by a huge Welcome sign in different languages, which is always a bit worrying, a busy queue in reception, a grumpy receptionist who has clearly had a very long day, much efficient instruction signage, gravel paths, tended flower beds, state of the art toilets, tennis courts and campervans of all sizes with all their various accessories all immaculately set up.  To many this is camping heaven but there is nothing wild about this place.  We were given a map to help orientate ourselves and the deal here is that you can go wherever you can wedge yourself in.   As we walked around searching staring campers looked back protective of their own chosen ground which they had clearly thought through – is there enough shade, will there be sun in the morning, are we near enough the facilities, what angle should we be under the tree etc… We found a gap next to two very chatty English couples who were very welcoming ‘to the English quarter’.   Kelty and I felt arrival remorse – it was not the wild spot we had pictured and we determine to head off to Austria tomorrow- but we were also tired from the drive.  Taran on the other hand was delighted to see a basketball hoop, football pitches and lots of kids. 

HOWEVER AROUND THE CORNER THERE WAS A SLICE OF SLOVENIAN HEAVEN –
Despite it being late in the day, past 8PM, we decided to go for an evening bike ride to the lake about 5km away, but on the way out Taran found some kids playing football on the five a side pitch and just 1 minute from the campsite the scenery took my breath away. So Kelty happily rode on to the Lake on his own.  It was the Slovenia we were hoping for.  A green oasis.  Vast elysian meadows full of wild flowers surrounded by forested mountains with some snow on the highest peeks.  A farmer cutting his hay scented our path,  a scattering of inviting looking cowsheds.  No-one else in sight.  And then a crystal clear river leading to Lake Bohinj, the largest natural lake in Slovenia.   

So on Wednesday morning we were better disposed towards our rather suburban campsite.  We kicked around in the sun warming to the nice showers, clean grassy pitches and respectful cheery neighbours.  Anyway you only have to raise your head to see the surrounding Triglev Mountains and fill your lungs with Alpine air; flowers and birdsong everywhere.  And with schoolwork and shopping dispatched, lunch taken and domestics all in order we headed off along the perfect riverside ribbon cycle path in the afternoon heat to Lake Bohinj.  For a long swim.  The water is mountain clear and full of trout and has a cosseting surface warmth.  We are in a long predicted heatwave it is 34C and for much of the rest of Europe there is talk of breaking records in the next days.  But an arms-length below the surface the water is thrillingly frigid bringing shockingly to mind the high snowy fields from which it has sprung.  We play with the novel temperature gradient, wafting cool water up and warmer water to our sunken limbs, diving and daring into a refrigerated fish world and surfacing again in sun and warm. We lounge on the narrow beach and watch the people pass on the encircling meadow path.

When we get back it is later than it should be.  Bedtime is ever creeping this way and all of us but particularly and especially Taran suffer (and inflict suffering) when tired.  We had determined to get to bed early but when we sit down at the campsite restaurant it is 10pm and service is over!  We trudge through the dark streets of Bohinjska Bistrica in what quickly appears to be a futile search for a late supper.  Jo however persists on the hint of a clue from a Slovenian bartender and down the now night black river, past the sleeping doorways and over the bridge we find Pizza.  There are problems; Jo is given a lip stick stained glass of wine and puzzlingly a dismal Frutte Di Mare pizza in place of the Margherita ordered.  It had been a long day at the Pizzeria but they accept the return, acknowledge and we notice consume the fault. Jo shares in Taran’s and mine. 

We get to bed so late.

We now love this place!