Day 44. Thursday 14 May.

Put in some time this morning to make travel and accomodation bookings for the next stage. Decided to take in a few nights in Bratislava (breaking the journey to Budapest). All set.

Into Prague on the train – on RegioJet, the other provider – a bit uncertain whether our free travel still applied. The ticket inspector accepted the proffered passports, again without checking, and roared with laughter when D said, ‘but thanks for asking.’ She said she had to because with foreigners their age was hard to pick! 60? 65? 70? All look the same’.

At the station a young boy – early teens – was just finishing playing on the public piano. He was very competent and was asked by a group of young men, who looked like a bucks’ party, to play a tune to which they sang – very badly. But everyone was happy.

We were headed for the Decorative Arts Museum Prague, but couldn’t pass by the Jerusalem Synagogue, so named because of the street it was built on. One lone security guard who seemed completely relaxed: we went through a scanner but kept our day bags.

There was a permanent exhibition and a temporary one. The temporary one was Patchwork of Czech Synagogal Windows that presents a selection of 18 patchwork works inspired by synagogue windows. Each of them is an encounter between two worlds: precise architecture and soft matter, glass and textiles, memory and contemporary craftsmanship. T learned of a new technique: Japanese meshing…a bit like raw edge weaving.

The other is titled “The Jewish Community in Prague from 1945 to the Present,” presenting the post-war history of the Jewish community in Prague using unique photographs, documents, and documentary films, capturing key moments of the Jewish population from the end of World War II to the present day. It was confronting and eerily reflective of recent events at home. A final sentence as we exited resonated: ‘….That however often ran up against what are today incomprehensible difficulties with the authorities.’ History rhyming?

There was also an exhibition about restored synagogues around the Czech Republic. Many of these are now in the local town ownership (rather than belonging to the Jewish community), but each town preserving the history and the heritage for future generation. By now we were overloaded, so it was a cursory walk through.

A much-needed coffee was next, and then the by now familiar walk towards the river through the Old Town.

By the time we’d reached Charles’ Bridge we knew there was no time for the Decorative arts so decided to get tickets for a 5:30 PM concert, and in the meantime get a beer or something equivalent somewhere quiet. Tickets bought, Charles Burger Bar provided the other ingredient, although it was no longer quiet by the time we left! Timing perfect – back to Church of St. Salvador to take our pews ready for the performance.

The musicians – six violinists, a viola, a cellist and a bass player – are from the Czech Symphony Orchestra, so were as good as you’d expect. And the organist was superb. The program was sort of a compilation of well-known classical favourites…our toes could tap along. For T the standout was the mezzo…Handel & Schubert & the Bach on the organ. T had to ‘block out’ the camera holders in the row in front!!!!

By the end, we were done (again); T suggested that we could have dinner at home (she had a pork thing in mind & needed only a leek & another potato, that Billa would have…actually 3 potatoes, 2 carrots & big bunch of parsley bought) so headed for home by train.. The vagaries of the train system hadn’t finished with us just yet! Checked the Departures board to see that a train that should suit us departed soon on what we thought was Platform 5. We became a bit suspicious when the train on Platform 4 loaded and departed, at the same time as ‘our’ train was supposed to & there was no one else on Platform 5. D went into the ticket office to check, and after eventually getting the staff to hear ‘Klanovice’ in an Australian accent, was advised it was S1 – which we already knew. What platform? S1. By this time there was only one train, arriving, at Platform 1, which was crowded, and it had S1 on its electronic display. That’ll do, and it did.

Home by 2000 & pork delicious served by 2100. We’ll sort the next concert tomorrow.

Day 43. Wednesday 13 May.

A sound night’s sleep, albeit with an early awakening. We both thought we’d slept in until after 0900, but it was not even 0700. Serenity is profound…can’t hear a leaf fall. But by 0900, next door neighbour was out with a sawing device, dealing with heavy-duty pruning of trees on his fence line. This possibly explains why our host has some new tree plantings in her backyard, a bit deeper away from the side fence.

Another cold & cloudy day, so armed with coats, brollies & galoshes we got under way. At to the local train station D decided to check with the ticket office that the tickets he’d bought yesterday were OK and was not surprised to be told they were wrong. The train guy then started to prepare the right tickets but stopped to ask how old we were. When told, he asked if we had proof – passports were presented. He wasn’t interested in checking them, advising us that as we were over 65, all public transport was free, and we just needed to have proof of age. Sure enough, on the train into Prague the ticket inspector asked for tickets, took one look at, but not into, our passports and continued with a smile.

From the now familiar station we wandered towards old Prague, past the Powder Gate Tower, ready for a coffee, which we found at Art and Coffee. The brownie was OK but not as good as those from O’Halloran Circuit.

Refreshed and refuelled, we continued on towards the town square, marvelling at the architecture – T remarked that it was like a fairy tale storybook. We just gawked.

There were crowds, busily taking photographs and (grrrr) selfies. One group of five women each posed multiple times, in turn, in front of a door that D was waiting patiently to photograph without people in the frame: in the end he tersely (but politely) asked them to step aside to allow his quick photo, which they did before resuming their colonisation of the spot.

Meandered toward & through the Jewish quarter, passing by the Old Jewish Cemetery, without feeling the need to go in. T had a little peek in a vintage shop: lots of spray-painted jackets & leather.

 Feeling peckish, looked for something savoury to eat. Options were scarce but eventually found Kafka Hummus Café, which turned out to be a treat, including great service from a very personable, humorous (and pretty) young woman. She got a tip. T had a warming lentil soup, a flashback to her trip to Prague with Fiona many years ago (1999?) and a very real ginger tea after. D had falafel and chips (passed the small salad bowl to T) and a big beer.

On we walked, over one of the bridges, past the Kafka Museum which we’ll visit tomorrow. As we were passing a ‘pub’, we were drawn by some terrific group singing, so stepped inside, along with quite a few other passersby. Ten men and one woman were singing a Capella, sitting around a table, (with beers ) what appeared to be a well known, responsive song. What it was about. A rehearsal? Just a fun group? Unlikely tourist attraction? No idea. Took a video, but too big to post here.

Stopped at the Shakespeare Book Shop, selling titles in English. Didn’t have the book T was looking for (Niall Williams’ 4 letters of love). Back over the Charles Bridge with lots of other tourists and locals, & after a little provisions shop at Billa, headed footsore for the train home.

Passports again waved to the ticket inspector who just nodded. Internet had been down this morning and was still down. Hosts came over to fix the problem and we had a lovely chat with Helena while Lada worked.

Day 42. Tuesday 12 May.

Early wake up without an alarm (who needs it?). Cup of tea, breakfast, finish packing, and Uber was early. An interesting conversation with the driver, Burak, on the trip to Wien Hof station that took much longer than predicted due to rush hour traffic – good thing for D’s nerves that we’d left early!

Burak was born to Turkish parents in Austria – they’d come seeking opportunity. He is a Muslim, and stated that there is much discrimination, citing his decision to leave the police force after three years because of harsh treatment over his wish to observe Ramadan. He then trained as a teacher but left that profession very quickly because of the kids: he said it gave him a new admiring perspective on his mum and all mothers. He now drives taxis. He speaks Turkish, German, English and Spanish, and travels extensively – Europe of course, and last year to South America, seeking experience and broadening. A very interesting young man. But one comment jarred. We mention3d that the area we’d been staying in had a significant Jewish element – as well as many women in hijabs. We asked whether there were any tensions. He said that there weren’t but the Jews didn’t pay any tax in Austria. D did not react but knew that this is one of those ‘truths’ that become easily accepted as fitting a stereotype: a form of anti-semitism.  Google later confirmed the fallacy.

The train station was easy to move around, albeit as you’d expect, lots of travellers. At 1000 the Departures board wasn’t yet showing our 1110 train – that information with platform numbers only appears about twenty minutes before departure. Eventually it did show up: 12 C-E. Up the escalators to Platform 12, to see A and B, with a train in place and the next departure board destination showing somewhere else. D starting to panic, thinking there may be another platform on the other side of the tracks and we’d now need run to get there but calm T accosted a bemused (or amazed?) young woman who pointed out the C ‘…a bit further along’. The letters refer to approximately where on the platform the particular train will pull into. Old eyes. A few minutes wait in freezing cold until our train pulled in, we boarded and departed, exactly on time.

No railway pie. The trip was uneventful…mostly green fields, growing veges & canola & tree crops. Plenty of leg room & carriage (2nd class) was very comfortable, with quite stable wifi. Arrived at Praha Hlavni nadrazi on time.

 Because we had no idea, and signage was limited, first stop was to the Information desk to ask about the train to Klanovice, our accommodation locale. Simple, was the answer, but to be sure D asked the chap behind the counter to write down the details, and we thought we were set. Next, D showed the lady at the Ticket counter where he wanted to go on his scrap of paper and a map on his phone, asking for two return tickets. She asked if we were over 65 (for which she was thanked) and she duly handed over two tickets. Upstairs, we looked at the Departures board to see a 1620 train on the Uvaly line – but noticed the provider didn’t match our tickets.

Back to Information, same counter, to be told that they were the wrong tickets, to go back to the Ticket counter to get them exchanged. Back to the Ticket counter to a different lady, who advised the tickets were OK but we were at the wrong station! She gave directions to the other one – Praha Masarikovo nadrazi – about ten minutes walk away – at this stage both Apple and Google maps refused to take part in this charade, so we were on our own. We headed in the direction she indicated to the exit, to be faced with a downpour, which had fortunately eased by the time T had her galoshes on. Apple Maps now relented, joined the game and led us to the station. Four platforms: which one? D approached three railway employees who were in conversation and had no interest in helping a customer – one just walked away. However, one of them eventually indicated the train at Platform 2 where we were standing as the one we wanted, so we boarded. D could breathe again.

Smooth trip to Klanovice, with D following progress on his phone map. T is so thankful that she doesn’t have wifi to do the mapping! The unresponsive railway employee was one of the staff on the train. Apple Maps then guided us to the address shown on Airbnb – no sign of the property where we are staying. Dark rainclouds threatening: suitcases, backpacks & umbrellas, not a good combo.

Our host had sent a link earlier, so we went to Google maps, did a U turn to go to the other side of the block, to a different address. Arrived to locked gates and pressed the intercom just as an online grocery delivery arrived. He answered the response from the intercom, and eventually Helena opened the gate, let us in, showed us the flat and advised how to get to the nearest grocery store.

We are dry & warm in a ‘granny flat’…no elephants thumping above or around. The location is outer-suburb Prague, huge residential blocks, very ‘Toorak’ style residences…we’ll fit perfectly. There’s a huge garden and a woods at the end of the street. The little Asian grocery store (10 mins walk away) had a bit of everything, including plastic flowers, undies, bags of potting mix, kids’ fishing nets…we just picked up a pack of frozen chicken fillets, tomato passata, bananas, chickpeas, milk and tortillas. Dinner sorted, to accompany those potatoes & red onions (+Italian red).

The serenity is deafening.

Day 41. Monday 11 May.

Another late start to the day after some trip management…neither T nor D checked the weather forecast and as we headed down Taborstrasse it was obvious we’d been neglectful – it was a dark and stormy morning threatening. T had identified an op-shop & was occupied for a good 45 minutes: D took the opportunity to have a haircut. ‘Not too short’, he said. ‘Parted?’ ‘Yes’ ‘Ah! – classic’.

Sky was by then then spitting so dropped in for the worst coffee on this trip, and pretty much the worst service. D ducked back up the street to buy an umbrella (to add to our collection back at the apartment), was horrified at the prices, but eventually found one that we could afford without a bank loan.

Sharing the tiny brolly we caught the Yellow Bus on the Blue Line, planning to travel along that route until it met the Green Line, which would take us out of town to an elevated viewpoint. From there, the plan was to work back to the Yellow Line in order to get to the Upper Belvedere (T had set her heart on seeing some Klimt and of course D obliged). Great plan. Timing was a bit tight, but workable – until the downpour started with thunder & lightning a delayed bus driver swap, the reasons unexplained. Thankfully, we were high and dry onboard, watching those who unfortunately weren’t. There were upset Aussies, who alighted, talking about going home to change clothes, others who also lost patience and got off, and an upset Korean who made frequent, increasingly agitated but polite trips from upstairs to query what was going on. Folk were edgy, we didn’t know what the issue was but presumed that the torrential rain was part of the delay. Eventually, with the rain abated, we got going, but our plan was in disarray. Struck up a conversation with an Indonesian tourist (living in Montreal) & topics quickly landed on the state of the world under the influence of the current US President, and the unsuitability of the US First Lady and Duchess of Sussex for office/position.

Got off bus as close as we could to Belvedere (having created a new plan) and walked there. T was still concerned about having left our apartment windows ajar…what would we find on return?

Rain stopped, we  arrived at the Belvedere, footsore but dry, in time to sample high Viennese cuisine: we were hungrier than ‘cake’, & there were no sandwiches, so the waiter recommended the next best thing: a traditional Viennese thin sausage, mustard and grated horseradish on a bread roll, that would be quickly delivered in time for our 1600 entry. T, still wondering why she agreed, reckons the horseradish came close, but not close enough, to saving the dish.

Made our way through check-in (8 mins before our 4pm slot) & into the galleries. Of the Klimts, there were a good number: portraits, landscapes and of course ’The Kiss’. The grounds, buildings and exhibitions were grand: we needed much more time. We agreed later that this visit was just a snapshot (as lots of them are); it would be easy to spend weeks and still not cover all that is offered. We also noted that there are a lot of events and activities coming up, as the season progresses (opera & concerts aplenty) that we would have liked to attend.

By 1700 we were done, unable to tackle more than Klimt, so headed out, hoping to get the Yellow bus, on the Yellow Line, back to the Opera House, to then get the Yellow bus on the Blue Line to the closest stop to home. Not so straightforward, as the Ho/Ho bus finishes at 5. So, it was a walk home, all the while watching the sky. Made it just before the next downpour, so at least that worked! And the apartment was high & dry, including this morning’s laundry.

T chopped another red onion, the half zucchini, some broccoli heads….to go with the last of the pasta. But there are a few fresh items to carry tomorrow, as well as the staples…

By train to Prague tomorrow. D is hoping for a railway pie.

Day 40. Sunday 10 May.

A slow start to another fine day. Walked into the city centre, wandering the graceful, classical cobblestone laneways showing a different kind of neighbourhood. Passed St. Stephen’s Cathedral, undergoing a serious polish & overlooking the Mozarthaus, where we have booked a string quartet for this evening. A quiet little coffee-shop away from the throng delivered that ‘hit’.

Continued down to the Opernring and noticed what seemed to be a market in Stadtpark. It was certainly more than just a market: on Mother’s Day weekend the park hosts the Genuss Festival, where more than 180 craft food producers and companies from Austria showcase their high-quality gourmet products and beverages.

 Interestingly, many folk were carrying wine or beer glasses, usually with something in them, and when T checked, yes they were glass, with no breakage issues, perhaps because of the five euro deposit. Very crowded, but very calm. People walked, talked, sat, lounged on benches and on the grass on a perfect sunny Sunday.

Decided to take the Ho/Ho bus on the Yellow route, to find, of course, that rides were suspended until mid-afternoon due the Genuss and Wings for Life, a global charity race, in which athletes from all over the world run any distance between 1k and 100k – just have to be faster than the Catcher Car. 100% of the earnings go directly to the spinal cord research foundation. Proud of our champion team running in the Mother’s Day run for breast cancer in Canberra.

Feeling foot-weary and in need of sustenance ahead of a 1530 bus trip, it was time for a sit down & snack  and, having seen a T-shirt with the message ‘No Kangaroos in Austria’ (took D a while) where better to find something close by than a genuine Aussie pub? It did the job.

The bus stop was at the opera house and hawkers in costume were spruiking last-minute tickets for Donazetti’s Elixir… for Monday night. T looked a likely target & was keen; but when it was a cash-only thing, we retracted.

 The bus took us past Schloss Schönbrunn (heaving!), pointing out the Orangerie Konzerte (which might get a guernsey for Monday), the new main railway station and Oberes Belvedere. We debussed at Belvedere hoping to get in to see Klimt’s ‘The Kiss’, and other displays, but by now visits had stopped (it was after 1700). Walked back to the closest Ho/Ho bus stop at the Opera House hoping to do the Green route to fill in time before the 2000 concert – bus rides had finished too. Another sit down was needed, and T started a conversation with an elderly couple waiting for the opera doors to open (Salome) about opera prices and whether the hawkers in costume were legit or a scam. Jury is still out.  We googled prices for tomorrow night for Donizetti’s L’Elisir D’Amore.  Very few seats available, and those seats were over 250 euro each. That’s a bit over our budget. The hawkers were offering seats up high in a side box (similar to what we’d had in Milan years ago) at 60 euros: the older gentleman confirmed that the operas were usually sold out months in advance, said that hotels bought up batches of seats and if  tourist guests didn’t take them they were passed on to the hawkers to get rid of.  A box seat up high at 60 euros was standard price but the lady was pretty dismissive of the quality of such a viewing position. The summer opera season is clearly huge business. We Antipodians always presume that we can get tickets on the day, as the mood takes us…doesn’t quite work like that in Vienna.

Earlier in the day we had noticed an Italian restaurant – Cantinetta La Norma – that had promise for a ‘meal out’, not far from Mozarthaus so headed there for dinner before the show. The Siciliana pizza was terrific, as was the Montapulciano. And the maître d’ was engaging and generous. Of course we had to share a panacotta, & then a little complementary almond liqueur. He was the perfect salesman and we felt we’d just had a quick trip to Italy. D was amused by a sideshow in an adjacent laneway, as three very young women preened and posed in a store window for about fifteen minutes, using it as their mirror.

The concert was in Vienna’s oldest concert hall: the Sala Terrena where Mozart had  played, and across the courtyard where he had briefly lived. We had bought tickets online. On arrival the young man on the desk apologetically explained that as we’d booked late, our seats were not together – but we could pay for an upgrade. We consulted, declined, upon which he gave us a free upgrade, whatever that really meant apart from sitting together. The performance was delightful, lively and engaging: Mozart plus a bit of Dvorak, Papa Haydn & Bach.

And a slow walk home through a still very active city night life.

Day 39. Saturday 9 May.

A herd of elephants (perhaps one child) invaded the apartment above us at around 0530 – chance of going back to sleep: zero. Struggled along to a cup of tea at 0630 then time to decide what to do with the day. Hop on, Hop off Bus to get an overview was the decision. D was surprised that the red Ho/Ho bus seemed booked out online for the 48 hours we wanted, so Yellow was the go.

After breakfast got down to Yellow Bus Stop 9, waiting patiently for the bus that comes every twenty minutes. One did – and completely ignored us. There was a sign attached to the stop, only in German, which we then interpreted was telling us something like ‘this stop is not in use’. We walked down to Stop 10 and in due course a bus arrived and stopped for us. So we spent two hours or so listening to the audio, taking in the sights, trying to map read, and changing seats to either get better protection from the wind or to get a better view. As we’ve found previously it is an easy way to get a feel for a new place, even if not in any depth. Views of the palatial inner circle are indeed sumptuous and then it was across the Danube (it branches into 4 sections to mitigate the flow) the modern tower landmarks, the gardens (Prater), past the UN complex and we were back at our start point.

Having done the Blue Route, we got off at Stop 10 – and yes, the bus bypassed Stop 9, although the commentary promised great things if we got off, primarily the Wiener  Kriminalmuseum (Vienna Crime Museum) with assurances of gory exhibits.

A quiet afternoon, with some research into our next stay – likely Prague (now confirmed). Looking for a stand-alone place to avoid elephants above.

An evening stroll to the Danube – not particularly blue, and full of huge cruise vessels, which strangely seemed empty, with buses alongside.

Back through community areas: Mexikogedenkstein (Mexico Park), so named in honour of Mexico being the only country that opposed officially the Anschluss in 1938. Where were you Australia: was a pattern emerging? The church of Hl. Franz von Assisi is right on, or in, the park, which had lots of families doing normal things, and a few old men on benches having a quiet tipple.

We commented on the prevalence of women in hijabs and wonder at the ethnic mix here in Vienna. We had earlier been in the old Jewish quarter (but, as the bus commentary had mentioned, Austrian Jews were dispossessed & then killed during WWII (65,000). Then back through Venediger-au-park, another community/family space, to arrive at a ‘street party’ not far from home organised by, we assume, the local Turkish community. Again, great atmosphere.

 Impressions of the area we are in…immigrant workers(?), lower socio-demographic, very little personal glamour, tired, daggy, apartment blocks… but traffic is very quiet, making for easy flat walking. A warm day, cloud building…

Dinner: frittata, with a purple onion & broccoli (sourced after much angst about not needing the quantity they come packaged in). Seems you can’t just buy 1 onion or a small head of broccoli…so, there might be some waste.

Day 38. Friday 8 May.

Early start, easy one hour or so drive to Ljubljana (according go Apple Maps) to hand back the car to SixT, with enough time to go back to Lupo, our favourite café, for a humorous chat with the barista who remembered: ‘double espressos, hot water’…  ‘Well, no, we’ve changed…1 double shot Americano & 1 normal A.’ The change is to extend the savouring with a bit more lingering. The playlist had Animals, Bob Dylan & Stones today – T tapped her feet. ‘There is a house in New Orleans’ took D back to 1969 when another Animas’ hit  ‘We’ve gotta get out of this place’ was almost an anthem. On leaving, ‘Lupo’ asked where we were going next…Vienna, for music…’Ah, classical’ he said.

At an outside table T engaged in conversation with another customer, a woman sitting alone & with a broken arm (the café is next door to the hospital). She explained she’d fallen over 10 days ago on a trip to Uzbekistan; the break didn’t need plaster, just a sling. She said that Uzbek had terrific, brightly coloured Islamic architecture, was very clean & safe (now added to the bucket list).

And enough time to get to the bus station – D had conniptions when looking at the departures board and not seeing our bus, until the ticket lady told him that  he was actually in the train station and he needed to cross the road to the buses!

While seated awaiting our bus, T was joined by a young woman on her way to Rijeka, on the bus before ours. She was wearing a splendid hat & when T complimented her, she said that she’d got it in a shop that sells hijabs…it comes in a variety of colours & is good for hiding unwashed hair (T’s, btw, was freshly washed). There was then chat; a Bosnian,  she has been living in Munich for 3 years & will qualify for residency after 5, giving her a more flexible passport for work opportunities (Bosnia’s situation is still not so good). She cycles & hikes…’if you want to change your life, just cycle or hike’ (followed by some detailed travel routes accomplished). It’s safe for a woman, too. In summer she has a tent. T asked her about living in Germany now…’better than Bosnia, but in these last few years, Germany has become very expensive…rent!!! Because of Ukraine…economy has ‘fu….d up the working people’. She talked about Bosnia having the oldest pyramids in the world…T asked what they were made of…the explanation sounded a bit ‘supernatural’…maybe ‘forest bathing/positive energy/chakra stuff ?…she was studying in that field & that is where her next job will be. Then her bus pulled in and she waved farewell.

T navigated the bathroom at the bus station. It meant lining up at the ticket office to buy a token to go into a slot at the gate…on arriving at the gate with said token, a woman behind T asked where to get a token. When T explained the system, the woman (Pommie accent) was not happy, so T offered that we go through the gate together…the gatekeeper was not happy! D had an equally convoluted experience getting his token.

On the bus for the five-hour drive to Vienna – stops on the way to drop off/pick up passengers but no relief stops for those continuing. We dared not take much from the water bottle and wished we’d brought some snacks. Drivers changed over at Graz – neither had any compunction about letting other road users know they’d stuffed up: horn, flashing headlights. To be fair, on every occasion some gentle remonstrance was justified if not really such a good idea. The worst was a Tesla driver who was driving slowly until the bus started to overtake, then sped up and cut right in front of it from an inside lane. Drivers not impressed, nor was D.

Arrived at Wien, debussed and called Uber, as it was too far to walk: Ahmad was there immediately. D had seen him drop someone off and do a U turn to wait opposite. He was very chatty and particularly happy to pick up Uber rides (he was also a ‘phone’ taxi driver, which was far more stressful) as Uber was prepaid, with a pre-arranged route, so no arguments with suspicious customers…so ‘no stress’. ‘ I’d rather have a smaller amount of money with no stress’.  A philosophy for life.

Arrived at the apartment, self -checked in, shopped for essentials (salmon, spuds…milk, tomatoes…) and that’s the end of the day, with 2 little baked spuds to kick start tomorrow.

Day 37. Thursday 7 May.

We booked a tour of the Škocjan Caves about 40 km away for 1000 – D says we need to be on the road by NLT 0900 and we actually left before that and arrived at the correct start point in good order, with time to spare. The day started well.

The cave system is an underground phenomenon in the Karst region of Slovenia – along with the underground stream of the Reka River it forms one of the longest karst underground wetlands in Europe. We were met by a guide who leads the whole group – about 80+ – down to the entrance to the caves where we were divided into three groups for the actual walk through, which is about 2.5 km – plus the return to parking. We were not allowed to take photos inside the cave system, which was terrific for us as it prevents those annoying halts for pics and selfies ( but of course, there were the rule-breakers). So there won’t be a lot of photos of this part of the day.

The entrance to the caves is the Globocak Collapse Doline, which leads through a man-made tunnel into the Silent Cave. This is a dry fossil tunnel rich in diverse stalactite formations. We then moved into the Murmuring Cave, above the Reka River (Reka means river) – this is one of the largest underground caverns in Europe.And it was not murmuring; water gushes and thunders over rapids and this underground river can rise 100 metres in 10 hours in torrential rain. We saw flood markers from previous times and couldn’t help but recall the Thai cave incident some years ago. Fortunately, yesterday’s damp conditions had no impact. The size of the chambers is huge and reflecting on this having been created by the underground river over Millenia makes us feel very insignificant.

At the end of the guided tour we walked by ourselves back to the Information Centre (about 40 minutes) on route 2 (orange). We were advised that the tour included 500 steps, up and down: there were definitely at least that many! Our guide was terrific: she waited for the group to catch up (we weren’t the slowest) before starting her spiel. Needless to say, the ‘no photos’ was ignored at least once. But now the walk is finished, we can take photos.

After coffee and lunch a visit to the museum – we were the only ones. It was a simple display but lots of information, and an excellent video. The video mentioned an observation we’d shared yesterday: the dimension of time in the creation of these caves makes our existence miniscule: a very small example – it takes ten to fifteen years for one mm growth of a stalacmite. There were references to the magical, disappearing river (it goes underground for 30+kms after 55kms abover ground) as early as 2nd century BC.

From there, a drive to the village of Štanjel, which had been recommended by our hosts.We were suddenly in vineyard territory, & obviously a drier environment,  close to the Italian border. Not quite knowing what to expect as we walked up the hill and entered the town we were struck by how derelict & deserted it was. It turns out that it had been extensively damaged during WWII and is being renovated and reinvented: there are now only about fifty residents and it hosts facilities such as a reception hall, a regional wine shop, & wine -making school. Popping into the grocery store for 2 potatoes to complete dinner (T needed an ice cream),it felt a bit like an Italian deli with an inviting fresh, unpackaged meat section. T had already planned to focus the main dish on the home-made sausage back at our accommodation. But she admired the selection on display.

Last stop for the day was Predjama Castle. Parking was some distance down a steep road so, rather than park and walk, we opted to have a ‘remote viewing’ from a green area above the castle, which worked fine given that we were only there for a photo moment. The castle was built under a natural rocky arch high in the stone wall to make access to it difficult. Later, we were surprised to discover that the castle was just down the road from our apartment.

Tomorrow, we return the car and catch the bus to Vienna. Dinner was a full and flavoursome feast with Marjan’s sausage added to the kidney beans & tomatoes. There were even oven-roasted potatoes accompanying -D in heaven. The evening was beautifully quiet with no adjacent neighbours. What a treat! The day finished well.

 Slovenia has been a gem: 100 shades of green, superb natural scenery, friendly people, some quiet spaces, even the capital has a comfortable, small-town feel and the prevalence of English makes it very, very easy.

A special 16th birthday today (and yesterday in Australia).

Day 36. Wednesday 6 May.

Forecast: rain. A meandering drive along secondary roads was planned to get to our next stop for two nights, near Postojna. A persistent rain, sometimes heavy, put paid to the idea of exploring on foot the towns we passed through. Already usually slow, our speed was even further reduced: we were frequently passed by other drivers, often over unbroken lines, but were never tail gated or beeped or otherwise abused. It was reasonably comfortable being an old fart trundling along (T pleased not to be on freeway).

We tried for a coffee at Idrija, but after trawling through the narrow streets could not find anywhere to park, so moved on – to find a bar at Godovic, populated by old men, served by a lovely young woman, who served terrific coffee. D fitted in.

The road from Skopja Loka to Postojna was frequently narrow and winding, through a mountainous region much like yesterday. The rain made concentration serious – and the low cloud made sightseeing ‘difficult’ but T still comfortable.

At coffee we decided to head straight to our apartment if we could get an early check in (before the usual 1600). Tamara was happy to oblige and we arrived at about 1300 to be greeted by her and Marijan our hosts, who provided comprehensive briefings, including on the operation of the sauna,  plus bread, cheese, schnapps and sausage (both  home made)…and Marijan will bring croissants to the door in the morning! The set-up is amazing, beneath the extensive main house, very, very stylish & with under- floor heating (it will dry today’s wet shoes).

We left for the Postojna Cave at about 1400, having been advised to be there 30 minutes before entry. On arrival D missed the turn into the car park necessitating a long detour into town to do a U turn. Got back, parked and headed for what we thought was the cave – which was in the other direction. With instructions from a bemused passer by, we headed for the ‘big house’, with no idea where we should be. Walking up and down the rows of souvenir shops and cafes, we saw a cave entry sign, flashed our etickets – which didn’t work. Tried another version. Tried enlarging them. Tried the email version. Tried to brighten the colour. The guy overseeing the turnstiles eventually tired of this and just took us around the barrier. Inside was a display of specimens, explanations about the olm, etc but no sign of the train. D went back to the turnstile guy who told him that it was just above, just keep going. Back he went, but it simply wasn’t making sense, so back D went. ‘Ah’, the turnstile guy said helpfully ‘you wanted to get on the train! Now I understand. But you’ve missed it. If you hurry to the ticket office, you should be able to exchange your tickets for the 1530 train’. D rushed to the ticket office in the rain, exchanged the tickets in exchange for a 10-euro levy, provided some polite advice to the ticket seller on the poor signage, and we rushed to join the queue to get on the train. And the reason our etickets didn’t work: they were for the train, not the display! So, we’d been in the wrong area all along. This is probably Slovenia’s biggest tourist attraction; D found the signage inadequate, although returning to the car park after the visit we did see signs that if we’d been more leisurely earlier, we might have noticed.

But the cave experience was mind-blowing…a little train took us 2kms into the limestone, along tunnels, through stalactites/mites: 15 mins of magic. Then it was disembark & walk (our group was large) for about 90 minutes, through ‘room upon room’ of formations and colours. The tour guide tried his best with information but because we were often at the back, we couldn’t actually always catch the spiel, plus people were talking & stopping to snap pics, so T abandoned the aural & just marvelled at the visual. D grumped his way towards the front but still missed out on a lot. Then back on the train for 15 mins to the exit. It’s the world’s biggest cave and has been dealing with tourists for 200 years. And the king of the cave-animals is a creature called olm, a bit like a gecko, living for up to 100 years, able to go without food for 10, still a glint in the eye at 80…but it is actually blind, has no pigment, breathes through gills jutting from its head and has no predators! Now T’s favourite creature.

Back to the apartment for a sauna and dinner – and to try Marijan’s home made schnapps. In accordance with Slovenian hospitality (we think) we’d been offered a sip on arrival, politely refused because D was driving. The schnapps was terrific – but wouldn’t want to have too much!

Staged photo!

Day 35. Tuesday 5 May.

A wet day forecast, and early morning it looked imminent. We had planned to do a road trip including the Vrsic Pass (highest pass in Slovenia) & along the Soca Valley to Bovec. A quick check of our map limited the preferred one-way round trip option, which would have taken us into Italy – the terms of our car rental don’t allow us to cross international borders. Our fallback was to do an out and back to Bovec, via Kranjska Gora, a neat 70 km each way. We knew by now that the timings on Apple Maps would not reflect ours!

Our first stop was after Kranjska Gora at the Russian Chapel, dedicated to Saint Vladimir (!) built by Russian prisoners of war used in forced labor in the area during World War I, in memory of 100+ of their colleagues killed in an avalanche in 1915.

The fuel gauge indicating range in the T-Cross was dropping by 10 km for every 1 km traveled. D was starting to get a bit worried, although logic told him this was not an issue. At the top of the pass (1611 metres) we figured that Bovec would have fuel: it did.

Plenty of cyclists do the pass & damp conditions would have kept them cool. The road snakes through tiny villages; snow sports and high-octane activities are the go: rafting, kayaking, canyoning and of course the familiar serious hikers. There are also plenty of motor bikes.

The sheer rock faces are awesome and on a fine day their peaks would glow. Today, the clouds came well down.

In Bovec a coffee with a traditional Slovenian cake, very like a strudel, although we were assured that it wasn’t the same. As we left, we took our cups and plates inside: the waitress thanked us and offered us a job: ‘we are short of staff’ for the season.

Back up the mountain road, hoping for the clouds to lift or part for that magical shot.

The Soca River is a marvellous sight & the aquamarine is accurate. Idyllic fly-fishing terrain.

On return, stopped at Kranjska Gora to marvel at the blinding white riverbed – not much water covering those rocks, but the same green hue. There’s a man-made recreational lake which would have been busy with swimmers during the last week but today? No, since temperature was 5.5 at mid afternoon.

Another full day of meandering in outstanding scenery. We comment regularly on the language being super challenging; so few words are easily identifiable for us: pizzeria and stop are no-brainers, as is one from a roadside billboard today (but we’re none the wiser what the issue is).

A comment on drivers in Slovenia – we have seen no road rage, blaring horns, angry gestures, tail gating etc even in Bled during that awful peak hour. Drivers in this region have been extremely patient with the many cyclists sharing the roads – and take care to pass safely. Bikers likewise have passed only when safe. It has been more relaxing driving here on the wrong side of the road than on the Tuggeranong Parkway! For D anyway.