I think it might be heaven
By the time I got to Slovenia, I’d been on the road going from one big European city to the next every three-ish days. It was a lot of fun, but I missed trees.
I don’t want to give the wrong impression; I am not someone who revels in the outdoors. I like the outdoors, but mostly from a safe distance and through glass. Whenever I get too close to nature I end up stepping in mud. Eugh.
But Europe was making me miss trees and greenery. In Auckland, there’s a park or patch of green every four hundred metres. I rarely spend time in those parks, because life gets in the way, but I know they’re there. Europe’s idea of a park is a cobblestone square with one tree in the middle. Charming in its own, old world way, but not the same.
Slovenia though, now that’s a country that knows the ambient value of trees. Even in Libijana there’s enough greenery to soothe any soul.
Bled is a small town on the shores of Lake Bled, about an hour’s bus ride from Libijana. I got there just after peak tourist season, so it was quiet and the entire town had an air of sleepy peace, the way only small country towns can have.
There is a castle in the town, because it’s Europe, but I didn’t make it there. After checking in at the hostel I went to the lake and, well, I was a goner.
For the most part, I had clear skies while I was there with only the occasional fluffy white cloud. I got lucky, because all I’d been hearing from fellow travellers going east to west was how terrible the weather was further east.
The Magic of The Lake
It takes a couple of hours to walk around the entire lake, and that’s what I did on that first day. Every other day I spent in that town – and I stayed a day longer than I originally intended, just to soak up the atmosphere – it took me almost the entire day to get around the lake.
I’d take my kindle, find a bench with the perfect balance of shade so I could see and sun so my legs were warm, and read. After a couple of hours I’d walk a bit further around, find another bench and read. And so on round the whole lake. Every bench had a spectacular view.
There is another lake to visit not far from Lake Bled but I’d found my slice of heaven and I was content.
Soteska Vintgar might be a fairy domain
My fellow hostel dorm mates did other activities, like horse riding, hiking, kayaking/canoeing to the island in the middle of the lake. If you aren’t content to just soak in the lake’s vibes, there’s plenty to do up in those mountains.
The only activity I did, however, was go to the gorge. That turned out to be way more of an adventure than I intended.
After being told it was easy walk from town to the gorge, I popped it into google maps and off I went…only to end up in a parking lot. This is where being able to find signs would have been helpful. I have s technique to read signs (take a picture and zoom in) but that only works when I know of the existence of the signs. Eventually someone noticed my blind confusion and came to rescue me. Turns out it was sort of in the right place. It was somewhere people could park and catch a shuttle bus to the entry point.
The entrance fee is €10 for an adult, you can buy your ticket at the entrance or the parking lot. Unless you’re blind, then the ticket is free! The little old lady who gave me my ticket was very worried about me and if I’d manage. I think she genuinely considered not giving me a ticket when she realised I was going alone. I’m glad she relented though, because that was the best €10 I didn’t spend.
Upon entry, you’re given a helmet and not gonna lie, that gave me pause. What, exactly, did I sign up for? There were people with babies strapped to their chests and dogs though, so I decided to soldier on. Turns out I needn’t have worried, I think the hemet is just in case a piece of the gorge wall breaks off.
The walk is about an hour, if you’re not using a white cane and an abundance of caution. Even if you’re totally able bodied, walk slow to really appreciate where you are.
Its etherial in that gorge, with the river rushing over rocks below, sunlight filtering through greenery above and a fine mist making everything hazy. Very Lord of the Rings. Places like that almost make me want to be outdoorsy. Places like that make me believe in magic.
I took my time and revelled in the wonder.
Wait, is this a hike?
Once you get to the end of the gorge, you have to get back to the entrance. You can’t go back the way you came – that is a one way track. You have to choose between relatively short but steep uphill or longer and less steep. I would rather walk further than walk up steep hills so I opted for the gentler walk. I got all this information from someone who worked there, collecting helmets. I should have asked a lot more questions because I may have, sort of, accidentally, found myself walking through the forest on the Julien Alps. Oops.
I was not prepared for a hike of any description. I didn’t have basic supplies like water, or snacks. And, much to the horror of a Slovakian couple I met not long after I realised I was on a real hike, I was wearing my Tevas. I argued they’re sandals designed for activities like hiking, but my new friends weren’t convinced.
Thank goodness I did meet the Slovakians, though, and they were happy to chat because for the portion of the hike that went through the forest, I could be sure that I hadn’t accidentally strayed from the path. The forest in that area wasn’t super dense, so it would have been very easy for me to get very lost, very fast by myself. Dad was a bit horrified when I told him about it, I think he might still be traumatised from that one time when I was a kid and got lost on a family hike in the Waitakeres.
The second half of the hike was through fields and the path was easier to follow, which was good because the Slovakians went in a different direction.
The path was easier to follow because it followed the curve of a hill and was often a narrow ledge with very little room for misstep. I did not fall or slip once! Except for the horse manure every couple of hundred metres, it was an easy walk. Any time I started getting worried my talent for getting lost had struck, someone happened to be coming up behind me. Even though I didn’t walk with any of them, it was a comforting sign I wasn’t just wandering through a random farmer’s field. Towards the end of field portion, I started chatting to a Dutch couple enjoying their retirement and, largely thanks to them, we found the bus stop again.
Turns out, hikes aren’t always mud-lined chores!
Bled is my happy place
Bled was a great change of pace, other than the gorge outing, there was no touristing to do (not that I was interested in, anyway) so I could take the time to reed a book (or five). If I was independently wealthy, I’d live there. For now, I will revisit my time on the shores of Lake Bled when I’m trying to meditate.
Who said you had to die to experience heaven?
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