After two nights in Zadar, an insanely early taxi for the 07:00 Flixbus to Ljubljana. Seven and a half hours’ travel, including a wait at Zagreb for our connection, but such is life.

Tuesday 18 June

How lovely to see Zagreb bus station again – just enough time for a snack and a breakfast beer before boarding our second bus.

Be fair, it was very hot

We travelled through the magnificent Slovenian countryside and past prosperous looking villages to Ljubljana. Then, just a 20-minute walk to Kollman Apartments, nicely situated by the river in the old town. Yet again, our room was in a renovated 19th-century mansion, with the usual facilities (including a coffee-maker I couldn’t get to work), plus – a bizarre first – a Christian Lacroix-designed carpet.

As we settled in, an oompah band cruised up and down the Ljubljanica outside our balcony. But, once more, our mood was spoiled by the racket from the bar below. It was Anne’s turn to get the muzak turned down, and yet again… success!

***

After the customary trip to Lidl for supplies, we strolled along the riverbank before crossing the famous triple bridge to seek out a restaurant for dinner. We plumped (ha-ha) for Šestica, a traditional courtyarded inn serving traditional food in traditionally Gargantuan portions. Anne tackled a mound of braised pork with mashed potato; I tucked into jota, a hearty bean, sausage and cabbage stew. We shared a delicious warm strudel.

Back by the river the music from the bars was thumping and the beer flowing. But on Mestni trg, behind the river in the shade of the castle hill, it was cooler and calmer.

Once again we watched the Euros on TV and drank too much beer. What intellectuals we are, to be sure.

Wednesday 19 June

I can’t see a funicular without climbing aboard, so we visited the Castle and took in the views, then walked back down a steep path to the fruit and veg market in Vodnikov trg.

We bought some cherries

Over yet another beer we suddenly decided to take a train to Lake Bled. After all, Ljubljana is not a huge town; whilst there was more left to see we both felt we had had enough of museums and galleries for a while.

***

Our train took just an hour, alongside the gorgeous River Sava (a tributary of the Danube) and into the Julian Alps to Lesce-Bled station, from where there was a bus to the lake.

After consuming a couple of trout at a family restaurant, we took a gondola trip on the lake. Some poor geezer had to row a boat carrying a dozen or so tourists to the islet, then return an hour later, all the time battling the current.

It looked hard work

Bled Castle is one of the most popular attractions in Slovenia, but we contented ourselves with viewing it from afar, while strolling around the island with a group of Japanese tourists and guzzling sladoled (ice-cream) .

It made for an easy day trip, and we can now say we have been to two places in Slovenia rather than just the usual one.

***

Slovenian wine has quite a high reputation, so that evening we headed to a wine bar by the river called Šuklje. We ordered a tasting selection, with a plate of ham and cheese.

It was a good decision

As for Euro 2024, Scotland redeemed themselves with a 1-1 draw against Switzerland and were unfortunate not to score again. I went to bed too late and woke too early.

Thursday 20 June

Another day, another Flixbus. When we reached the border, Italian police climbed on to the bus and checked everyone’s passport. So much for free movement within the Schengen Area.

Goodbye Ljubljana, hello Trieste

At last, a country whose language I could properly understand and speak; although, as I’ve said before, literally everyone speaks English these days.

It was hot and humid and I was not in the mood for dragging my luggage around town, so we left our gear at the station while we explored, lunching on spaghetti alle vongole by the James Joyce bridge. Benissimo!

Trieste is a strange city: almost accidentally Italian, it has some of the most grandiose municipal buildings in Europe: an inheritance from when it was the principal port of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Now they seem misplaced and out of scale: like a man wearing a beautifully-made suit four sizes too big for him.

Our apartment at Via Niccolò Machiavelli was lovely, but it was far too hot to sit on the terrace so we headed out to the Revoltella, yet another air-conditioned art gallery. It possesses a good Italian modern art collection but with few stand-out items (De Chirico and Morandi are the big names).

That evening, gluttons for punishment, we watched England v Denmark (1-1): an awful game by any standards. We consoled ourselves with a negroni (what else?) at a posh grande caffè, followed by fish and chips at the busy but efficient Trattoria Caprese.

Good and cheap!

Just the one night in Trieste, then. I was beginning to take to the place but even better things were in store. The following morning we moved on to Lake Como.

Click to read part VII >