Ljubljana and Piran, Slovenia
After weeks of consecutive heat waves in Sicily, Malta, Tunisia, and even in northern Italy, I was dying for a change. Upon suggestion by multiple friends and a simple glance at the map — mountains! — I made a short detour to Slovenia with no planning beyond simple knowledge of a capital and a lake.
While not much, I did get a few modest degrees of relief from the thermometer. Taking the bus up from coastal Trieste, I also didn’t realise how much I missed seeing green fields, trees, and mountains! And while I actively choose not to seek cultural immersion, having been overwhelmed by a firehose of different histories, languages, and information already from three other countries and only having a few days here, Slovenia made a lovely and distinct impression.
Ljubljana, the capital, feels so different from everything else on this trip — small, compact, thoroughly walkable, uncrowded and without heavy traffic. The almost entirely pedestrianized old town is dominated by a river running through, bisected by a unique Triple Bridge at its centre, and another bridge on its eastern end flanked by its four signature medieval dragons. There’s the requisite cute houses, nice cafes and restaurants, shopping streets, and a market catering to visitors… but unlike many of the other old towns I’ve visited in recent weeks, this place feels lived-in and surprisingly young.
Outside the old town in the “newer” center, it seems like there’s students everywhere. There’s plenty of street art amidst the drearier Yugoslavian-era buildings, and perhaps a more vibrant alternative culture scene that I didn’t have the time to get into (and am probably a little too old for at this point!). Tivoli Park to the west may not be the most spectacular looking place in the world, but it’s the first large green city space I’ve come across after three countries lacking them entirely. Well-patronized and full of picnickers, strollers, volleyball players, practicing musicians, folks doing yoga… it’s a bona fide third space. Even the castle at the top of the old town hill (the interior of which I chose to skip) is largely a third space for free public use. This is a very livable city!
I only got a brief insight into Slovenian food, a rare cuisine that’s wholly unfamiliar to me: struklji (large rolled “dumplings,” either sweet or savory, and even occasionally served in a creamy gravy), žlikrofi (potato dumplings with goulash), kolbasa, sauerkraut, schnitzel, ricet (barley stew), gibanica (apple, walnut, and poppyseed cake)… Everything is hearty and perhaps more suited to winter than yet another heat wave, but at least it’s a welcome break from weeks of pasta.
As for that lake, well, everyone who comes to Slovenia goes to Lake Bled, and I’m no different. It’s an easy day trip from Ljubljana to walk a big loop around the lake: one that features a cliff on its shore with a castle at the top, and a tiny island consisting only of a church in the middle. While hilariously impractical to think about from a modern standpoint, it’s still undeniably photogenic, especially from up high after a sweaty hike, where you can even see other villages set further from the lake. And hey, the lake itself gave me the true heat relief I was looking for: an afternoon beach day by a body of water refreshing to dip into.
After my return to Trieste (more on that later) to head further into Italy, I couldn’t resist another short detour back into Slovenia, at the coastal town of Piran on Slovenia’s barely-there coastline sandwiched between Italy and Croatia. While an afternoon dip there in the Mediterranean felt more like wading into warm soup, and there were definitely a lot of visitors around, it felt like stumbling into an underrated gem: red roofs reminiscent of much more famous towns in neighbouring Croatia, pastel buildings, fortress walls to climb for a lovely view, quiet seaside village charm with local holidaymakers and residents alike, small artisan shops, great seafood, and a surprising lack of touristy businesses.
Sometimes, it’s nice to turn off my brain while travelling and just enjoy the atmosphere without the context, especially on a trip this long with so much moving around places so different from each other. There’s so much more potential to dive into its history and culture as a crossroads of Italian, Austrian, Adriatic, and even Balkan influence. Three days in Slovenia is hardly comprehensive, but what I got was the escape I wanted, and a reason to swing by again someday.