Lesson #5 ...and down South!

5 days holiday last week meant a trip down to Croatia! Nicola having had the courage to buy herself an Austrian car, we head off with apples, Prinz biscuits and regulation tow-rope. Aside from the usual speed-related problems faced by Brits abroad (being overtaken by a coach was a new experience), trip involves negotiating mountain passes, Slovenian petrol stations lacking the right kind of petrol, interesting radio experiences (Come and Ride the Love Caravan, Super Trouper in Croatian…), perfecting the U-turn, finding youth hostels in strange dark cities with half a map, compelling sunsets, good music and picnics n pizza in the car by the sea.
And a few highlights

- LJUBLJANA
It’s close to 10pm when we arrive but we decide to have a look anyway, one of the best decisions we ever made. The first thing we notice about Ljubljana is the graffitti. The next is that it’s a city of contrasts: we walk from down-and-out Belgrade to flawless Prague in 10 minutes. Sedate pillars quietly light still black water, bubbling people stroll pumpkin-lined streets (it was October 31st), beautifully lit buildings in green and gold arch and frame the night. Night-time is the time to first see this, my perfect city, but in the day it’s equally captivating. It’s the morning of November 1st when we explore, a public holiday, and so we have the city to ourselves. We wander deserted streets of dry autumn leaves and they are streets out of my daydreams. Cobbled. Narrow. Lovely but lived-in, and shabby in all the right places, with pavement cafes and red flowers, balconies and breathing space.
Incidentally, an audio-visual presentation on Ljubjlana’s history (yes it was cool, 3D glasses and everything) got me thinking. Happened to mention some Slovene writer of international renown - I realised I would never think to seek out a translation of a writer from Slovenia. Or Croatia or Japan or Sweden or wherever. It’s so frustrating - my main motivation for a language degree is the thought of tripling the amount of books I can read, but there are people ALL OVER THE WORLD writing things I need to read, thinking observing and writing, right now and for centuries. Everywhere. Arrrgh.

-RIJEKA
Mentioned in the guide as a transport hub not worth visiting, it’s certainly a change from Ljubljana! First impressions are of sun, sea and strong wind, and then what in my little head is filed as ‘Eastern European city life’: purposeful people, cars parked everywhere (including on the pavement), rough around the edges and a no-nonsense feel. The presence of postcards and an excitable old lady inside the one ‘pretty’ church indicates that tourists in the town are not unheard of, but truth be told, the only reason to stay was the view - out over the blue Adriatic, green foothills and snow-topped pink mountains rising behind. And the best part of Rijeka was seeing the beautiful city lights in the rear view mirror as we drove away that night.

-PULA
Another city that leaves me aching to wander down every little street. But the Roman Amphitheatre really needs a mention. Despite being hemmed in by fairly non-descript buildings and surrounded by men selling seashells, it still holds its own. There’s something about the arches that attracts and holds your eye, especially against a bright blue sky. Without ever realising it, I’d always wanted to go into an amphitheatre. Maybe it seems like a space for daydreaming, but once inside I really wasn’t sure what to think. Couldn’t help pondering what it was once for. It seemed faintly untouchable: nothing will ever connect me with that world. Nowadays they hold concerts there. I want to go back and climb all over it.

-ROVINJ
Only a tiny town, but worth our visit because it manages to be a combination of Venice and Sherringham so has my unconditional love. I enjoy just meandering up narrow cobbled streets (starting to understand what make a good holiday in Fi’s book?!) under peeling walls and wet washing, occasionally getting a glimpse of the sea. Strangest weather, the sun shining through the rain. I can also testify to the good working condition of Rovinj’s bell, since we were standing under it in the tower when it rang!

Last thing to mention is the journey back. My train journey home along the valley may become an afternoon activity all of itself, it’s so lovely. The train is deliciously slow, stopping in every hamlet and drifting past flat alpen-green valleys with little playdough-perfect mountains behind and then grey snowy peaks lurking in the distance. This time it’s even lovelier because everything has that strange yellow glow you get when the sun is sinking behind you. I really feel like I’m coming home, even though Austria is still somewhere foreign. The rolling pines, village churches, hilltop castles and distant peaks are all to me unmistakeably Austrian and somehow welcoming. It’s an easy place to love.