Thank God for Canadians

It’s fall! Hate to say it, but Slovenia actually reminds me a bit of Pennsylvania when it’s sunny and Michigan when it’s not. But fret not, I’m only making that kind of blasphemous comparison because of the fall colors, which are gorgeous, (and if this ghetto fabulous computer were less ghetto and more fabulous, you could see what I’m talking about) and considering I’ve been living in a densely coniferous region it’s really nice to have the ribald deciduous panorama around me again. I’ve been in Ljubljana for the past 4 days, after spending 3 in Zagreb, which proved to be too many. Zagreb is a lovely city with lots of squares, a few parks,

and a bit of hiking north of the city proper but it lacks something – not sure exactly what – and I was a little antsy to leave after day 2. But, conveniently enough, there was a festival of sorts going on in the city during the days I was there, so in my wanderings around the downtown area I stumbled upon a square full of older folks dressed in traditional Croatian garb, having a rollicking good time with a band playing in the bandstand, free wine flowing (relatively early in the morning, though I did not partake) along with cheese and goofy poppyseed laden pastry. There were two little old ladies in particular that I couldn’t stop taking pictures of – they knew all the words to every song, all the dance steps, and of course they danced to every song and were completely unabashed to be each others’ partner and were obviously proud to be part of the entertainment.  There was another, I assume, separate festival in the main square that was less cohesive in theme but they had some pretty rockin’ street performers, including a drumline,

which, for those who know the extent of my nerdiness, will immediately know just how excited I was to watch them perform. I was a little amazed at how quickly I fell back into band-nerd mode. The rest of my time in Zagreb was spent meandering in the hills outside the city and at the outdoor cafes where I finally found some really decent coffee, much to the chagrin of my wallet.

That’s been one of the unexpected repercussions of getting over my fear of food establishments – I spend a lot more and, while it gives me a greater perspective into the local culture and all that, my diminished fear means I have to pay a bit more attention to my budgeting or I will quickly find myself in trouble. But eating alone has really been a surprisingly liberating (hate that word, but it does apply) experience. I never go out alone when I’m at home unless it’s to a coffee shop, but since I’ve been alone for the majority of this trip I’ve obviously had to combat that feeling of dis-ease or get really tired of cooking for myself or being hungry, both of which have happened. I still haven’t gone for a drink by myself, but I can definitely say that I’m now a pro at walking into restaurants and cafes and being totally ok making an ass of myself by not knowing the local procedure or language, but not running out of the establishment from embarrassment.

My time in Ljubljana has been similarly spent to that in Zagreb, but I like Ljubljana a whole lot more.

It’s more quintessentially “Europe,” maybe, at least in appearance: there’s a river that runs right through the Old Town, which has its quaint little squares with the quaint little fountains, the quaint little bridges spanning the river which is lined with cafes, all the quaint buildings with geraniums in window boxes, and the castle looming above it all on its sheer cliff. So basically what I’m saying is that it’s quaint.

But also full of punk university students with their mullets, skinny jeans, and Palestinian scarves and a shocking number of ice cream stands, even though the days have been pretty chilly. Ljubljana residents really seem to love their sweets, particularly ice cream, and their booze – both are easy to come by anywhere in the Old Town, but not so much food unless you want kebab or pizza from a hole in the wall.

I did go on a day trip to Lake Bled, which is painfully pretty – it’s situated right at the foot of the Julian Alps and thankfully the weather was perfect the day I went there so the mountains were super clear. Quaint doesn’t quite incorporate the beauty of the surrounding landscape, but the town itself could fall into that category. There’s a church on an island in the middle of a very clear, emerald-colored lake with yet another castle perched on yet another precipitous cliff overlooking the little town, with trees and foothills surrounding the whole scene.

I can’t say I absorbed much about the history of the area, except that pagans used to hang out on the island until the Catholics came and built the Church of the Assumption there, which seems pretty par for the course, history-wise. I went with two Canadian girls (I can’t seem to get away from the Canadians! And they’re all from Edmonton, which is starting to get super weird) from my hostel who have a penchant for feeding wildlife and almost getting assaulted by swans. I, in turn, almost got squished by the bus that took us to Lake Bled. I have learned, since being over here, that the general rule of pedestrians having the right of way does not usually apply. There is also apparently a rule that says if you are standing still at the bus station, waiting outside the demarcated parking space into which a bus is pulling, do not expect that bus to: a) stay in its lines, or b) stop where you’d logically expect it to stop. Thankfully the Canadians are more observant than I and pulled me away from the very large bus. Tomorrow I once again embark on an adventure-filled 12 hour train expedition down to Split, Croatia so I can go sailing for a week with my observant Canadian friends. Until then I hope not to encounter any wayward modes of public transport, though I’ve never been on a boat for that long before, so it could be an interesting week.