Our Local Guide in Slovenia; Part 3/5 – Pit stop in Ljubljana; onwards to Piran

After studying together for two years, my Slovenian friend Anja invited me and two of our friends on a five day road-trip across her beautiful country. Not only did we get to see the landscapes of Europe (mountains, lakes, beaches), but had a unique opportunity to receive a crash course in all things Slovenian, learning about the language and culture, and eating ourselves silly in the hot summer sun.

It was Friday, which meant the time had come to say goodbye to Anja’s family and head to Piran on the Slovenian seaside. Our 7am departure time came and went, but in hindsight we were lucky to have run a little late. About thirty minutes into our drive, we hit a wall of traffic. An accident had happened further ahead. It didn’t take long to file us off, but the poor people stuck between the junction and the accident had to wait for the road ahead to be cleared. We escaped hours of delays.

Thankfully, Anja’s friend, whom we were due to rendezvous with in Ljubljana to get the keys to his apartment for the weekend, was stuck in the same traffic, allowing our schedules to almost tie up.

Anja dove out the car and asked JP to park as her friend was in a hurry. JP got behind the wheel of an alien car, having only just woken up from a nap, and within seconds was confronted with aggressive beeping as we were blocking the road. I’ve never seen someone wake up so fast! We went for coffee to let JP recover and were soon back on the road.

JP after his wake-up call...

...then coffee (awesome cups)...

...and JP is ready to rumble!

Our first taste of the sea came as we drove through the city of Izola, where the road skirted the edge of land and water. Soon after came Piran. We turned down ever narrower roads into a small car-park, which over-looked a band of trees and pretty red-bricked roofs with the ever-reaching sea below.

The owner of the B+B greeted Anja warmly; she and her family have been coming here for years. In our sizeable room, it was cooler to keep the shutters closed at all times as any inch of sun and it was sure to boil. I dug out my sun-cream and lathered up.

It felt like Venice as we descended stairs to a series of narrow passages squashed between snuggly fit houses. Mopeds sped past as diners ate at cafés and residents hung laundry to dry. An open space appeared on our left, the Central Square. The Bell Tower stood proudly above red and yellow houses, opposite were the white pillars of the Municipal hall, and in the centre was the statue of the composer Giuseppe Tartini.

The square followed round to a tucked away harbour, where a local bus beeped a van out of its way. I wandered aimlessly, capturing sights with my camera. I browsed hats on a stall and passed numerous fish restaurants on the promenade as half naked bathers climbed over rocks to the sea. There isn’t a beach in Piran, leaving the prom dotted with deck chairs and umbrellas. We skirted the lighthouse and found an empty patch of street to lay down our towels. An umbrella cost 4 euros. 

I read my book as I watched our bags, until it was my turn to swim. I went down to where the prom met the water and hobbled over slippery rocks into the cold water, which was welcome once adjusted. It was salty and easy to float in. Across the bay, I could see Trieste, Italy. It once belonged to Slovenia but was given to Italy during the Second World War, leaving Slovenia with a measly 47km of coastline. But as Piran proves, it's not the quantity but the quality that counts.

Aware of my own stench, I braved the climb back up to the room for a proper shower. JP came too, but the girls went for another swim and would meet us shortly. I felt refreshed, but by the time I was back in the square, I’d already grown sticky. We walked back to the restaurants and tried to find some with vegetarian options for JP and Pirjo. It was a bit pricey, which I suppose was to be expected in a touristy region, but I was quite happy when my plate of calamari and chips arrived. Sure, it wasn’t as big a portion as I was growing used to, but the free round of Schnapps was great!

Our group walked up to the Bell Tower, and me and Pirjo decided to pay the one euro fee to climb it. It was a harrowing climb. The steps were made of thin wood which bowed under foot, but it was worth it for the view of the market below. Within a few minutes, the bell rang, and scared us nearly to death. I checked my watch and made sure we had gone down before the next ring at half past.

The girls wanted to go for another swim, so me and JP found a bar on the main square and enjoyed a dark larger whilst people watching. It was busier now, with cyclists and an elderly man having a fantastic time on roller-blades, to which a group of passing children applauded. Lots of people had glow-in-the-dark toys which they shot into the air and watched as they glided back down to earth. It was very relaxing. We had another drink when the girls arrived and got a photo of us together.

Before we retired, we went to grab some food from the late night bakery; much cuter appeal than a kebab shop! We took our food and sat on a wall overlooking the harbour and listened to the distant concert. It was hilarious when a policeman came and told us we had to move on. We looked and realised we were outside the police station and sitting on the wall wasn’t allowed. Such rebels! We wandered back to the room, but not before sitting on the grass and talking for a while. I was relaxed and in one of those natural highs that only come after a happy night with friends.

Note the police boat in the foreground!

This was part 3 of a five part post. Click here to check out parts one and two. Next time we leave the seaside to see a swarm of bats in the Škocjan Caves and try out local drink and night life in Ljubljana.