Pri Mraku Guesthouse, Ljubljana

Briefly -- it was a pleasant experience:
The location is convenient -- easy to get to and from the highway, yet in a quiet street and within easy walking distance from the river and the hopping center of town.
The room was just right -- neither too big nor too small, neither too fancy nor too plain. Spotlessly clean and fresh. The a/c (or rather heating) just right. The breakfast selection had something for everyone.
And most important -- the manager, Mr. Matija Kafol, and his staff, were unfailingly courteous and helpful.

Here are 3 pics : two of the interior, one exterior.

Another great plus is the parking! See Michael by our rented VW Polo? He didn't just bring the car around... it was legally parked right next to the hotel, and the spot was saved for us while we were touring by car. No need to drag suitcases from far off parking lot, or squeeze in and out of awkward underground places.

What you can't see from these pics is the patio/garden restaurant, which we could see from our bedroom window but didn't actually take advantage of. By the time we got back in from our daily roaming, the kitchen and restaurant were closed. The hotel desk happily recommended excellent nearby eateries. But if you're too tired to even cross the street, there's no need to: Le Petit Cafe is right next door; it's lively and delicious. We sat outdoors once, and indoors the second time, feeling very un-Ljubljaners; these people seem to think that the interior of a cafe/restaurant is merely a necessary evil, without which the exterior couldn't function. But the place to be, to sit, to eat and drink, is definitely outside on the sidewalk. They also seem to drink (wine, wine, wine, beer, coffee, coffee) much more than they eat. While I'm huddled in my thickest sweatshirt, veering towards the nearest shelter, the locals are sitting expansively at the outdoor tables, enjoying the cool night air.

By the time we were ready to leave Israel, I felt as if we were the last of our generation that had not yet visited Slovenia & Croatia. Whoever we spoke to said things like "Oh, it's beautiful, you'll love it!" So I don't know if anything I have to say will be news to anyone. But in case you're one of the endangered species who haven't yet visited -- we concur: it's beautiful. Go visit. Ask for Simona at the Tourist information center... give her my warm regards.

Lovely Ljubljana, Day 3

Rick Steves says the Pri Mraku Guesthouse is "a little rough around the edges". At the moment, when I'd like to make myself a cup of coffee to go with my granola bar, I see what he means. Smaller and more modest guesthouses than this have coffee/tea making facilities in the rooms. Oh well.

This post will also be a little rough around the edges: it's being composed as I type and is basically a list of observations, in no particular order.

- The local population, seen on their way to work in the morning, are dressed like for Israeli winter, wrapped up in coats, anoraks, jackets, or thick-looking sweatshirts. Whereas we decided that spring has sprung, and are more lightly dressed, complete with sun hat. This time I am not wearing my Intrepid Explorer hat seen in so many photos of me (Thailand, Canadian Rockies, U.S. Rocky mountain states etc). The fact that it was inside the lost luggage sent me straight to a beautiful hat store in the center of town just up from Presernov Square, where I bought me a purple hat from a saleslady who didn't know a word of English. When we reached today's destination, Skojan Cave Parks (Park Skocjanske jame), all the other tourists were dressed like for the north pole. Temp outside was around 9 deg C and windy, so I can't quite blame them. Inside the beautiful stalagmite & stalactite cave, temp was more like 12 deg C., and I was actually quite comfortable. And managed the 500 steps pretty well. Our Eng speaking quite was Natasha (her mother was reading War and Peace at the time, she explained). Another set of tourists had a Slovenian-speaking guide, and yet another group -- an Italian.

- Yesterday, towards the end of our tour of the [center of] the city, our guide Simona took us to what used to be the Jewish part of town, and explained how the Jews were driven out in the early 16th century, by the locals who had borrowed money from Jewish bankers and money-lenders, and had no intention of paying back. Whatever Jews returned to the city were later devastated by the Holocaust. This reminded me of Neri Livneh's feelings upon her visit in Poland, in cities that had been completely "cleansed" of Jews.

- We didn't really see the real Ljubljana, I don't think. Just as tourists who visit the Old City of Jerusalem don't see the real, day-to-day Jerusalem and the tourists who walk the quaint paths of Old Jaffa don't see the "normal" Jaffa. This was most obvious from the top of the Ljubljana Castle (fortress, actually), when looking down at the city. The reddish-orange roofs of the older section of town contrast with the outlying subdivisions or sections of town, where most of the population lives, I daresay. If I were staying here longer, I'd ask to be taken on a tour of those sections of town, too.

Here are pics taken at the top of the castle:

Simona with Mike Davis on the left and Mike from Perth on the right:

Simona with Mike from Perth:

View of the city from the castle:

There are, of course, plenty more photos, which will be uploaded to Flickr or Facebook or both when we get around to it...

Tomorrow (Thursday) we're off to Bled. Catch you later!
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Oh, Luggage, Where Art Thou?

By now, dear readers, our luggage and we have been reunited. But it took nearly 36 hours, half a dozen exasperated phone calls, an extra drive from Lovely Ljubljana to Zzzzagreb and back, and a whopping 150 euro fine for not understanding the significance of Vignette. Not to mention walking around in sweaty clothes, then giving up and buying NIS400-worth of essentials shortly before being informed that our two pcs of luggage are nestling safely on the floor of the Lost & Found of Zagreb airport. But that was to be expected. I mean, how are you to ensure that you get your precious luggage back if not by going out and buying new things?

Our Croatia & Slovenia vacation began rather inauspiciously on Monday morning, aboard a jam-packed Austrian Airlines flight, featuring strained flight attendants doing their best to cope with 80 special breakfasts, screaming kids, and several dozen ethnically-clad Eritrean women who seemed a bit out of place, or out of sorts.

The flight actually made good time until we reached Vienna's crowded airspace and had to sort of hang around in mid-air for a while. I guess that's what made us nearly late for our connecting flight from Vienna to Zagreb, and that's where our luggage failed to follow us. The Lost & Found Lady at Zagreb airport was quite optimistic that our cases would appear on the next incoming flight. So we whiled away the time in a cafeteria overlooking the runway, then in a beautiful green park with a lively water fountain right opposite the terminal. Then waltzed back to Ms. L&F, only to discover that the flight in question had been canceled. Ms. L&F said not to worry, luggage would arrive on a later flight and be sent to our hotel asap.

To make a long story short, we picked up our rented VW Polo tdi and drove out to Lovely Lub. Out of Croatia, into Slovenia. Good road. Smooth drive. Half-decent music on the radio. Reached hotel recommended by Rick Steves with the barely pronounceable name Pri Mraku, and settled in.

Lo and behold, some 24 hours later, and after our cases had gone shuttling between Zagreb, Vienna and possibly Ljubljana back and forth all that time, we effected a happy reunion.

Meanwhile, before we concluded that we had to go back to Zagreb airport, we walked our feet off in the touristy center of Ljubljana, admired the architecture, the cobblestones, the beer and the wine; and enjoyed a guided tour, together with an Australian couple, led by the sunny-faced Simona from the Tourist Information Office.

More stories, plus photos, in a day or two.
At the moment, I am very tired and barely responsible.

- to be continued -

How to get lost on the West Pennine Moors

England, October 2010.

Step One

Go to Lancashire. Various other parts of England will do just as well, I daresay, but this one I can vouch for from experience.

Select a small, godforsaken town or village that most people have never heard of. You can choose one with an impossible name to pronounce (plenty of those in Wales, of course, unless you’re born-and-bred Welsh), or any other seemingly plain, innocuous place. Do not use a GPS /SatNav – that would be cheating. Or not. I was actually told by my hostess, Jenny, how previous visitors, as well as the Royal Mail, got discombobulated because their sophisticated navigation device got it wrong. Let’s say you’ve chosen the unquaint town of Chorley. (Any Monty Python fan may choose Notlob instead.)

Step Two

Ignore town center. Drive out of  town to its outermost limits, to places like Heath Charnock, where the lanes are narrow, the green pastures and water reservoirs plentiful, there are more horses on said lanes than bicycles, and the actual residential houses are at least a kilometer apart. Back Lane would be a good point of departure. To ascertain that you are still in Civilization, make sure that there’s a pub in the vicinity. Say one called the Yew Tree.

Step Three

Pick a direction. Any direction. So long  as it’s away from the Yew Tree and the cottages along Back Lane, away from town, and preferably not leading  straight into a water reservoir, as that would be counter-productive.

Walk briskly  to counteract the chill and work up a moderate sweat. Cross a bridge or two. Follow a more-or-less beaten track. Keep an eye out for small gates or stiles with the innocent looking sign Public Footpath. Climb over stile, find yourself on soggy grass and convince yourself that this is what a Public Footpath indeed must look like.

Step Four

Do not let the sheep, cows, flies, sheep dung and other natural aspects of the scenery put you off. Just because you happen to be wending your way among them does not mean that you have any less of a right to be in the midst of that soggy meadow. The sign did say Public footpath, did it not? Okay, so the path is a bit hidden among the green thingies and brownish mounds… and the public seems to be mostly composed of the bovine and ovine type. So what. Carry on in a true sporting spirit through another gate, fence or stile, to a similar pasture, until there is nothing around you but Nature and its creatures.

There, you have arrived!

You are thoroughly lost on the West Pennine Moors!

Wasn’t that fun? Didn’t that imbue you with a true, countryside sense of accomplishment? No? It did not? You want to go home? To the safety of the Yew Tree? Well, I hope you remembered to bring along your cellphone! Call your host and try to describe exactly where you are. Though that may prove to be a bit difficult, what with one meadow looking pretty much like the next…

Ah, wait, there’s a tall white wind-turbine to your, er, north-west… or is it to your east? No matter – it’s the only wind turbine within miles. You’re in luck.

We got back safely to Rose Cottage on Back Lane.

The only casualties were my no-longer-black boots.

I don’t think I shall ever wear them again.

But look at the bright side – there’s a sale at Clarks!