After an excellent few days in Venice, we catch a train from the St. Lucia station to Trieste on our way to the small Slovenian town of Piran, an historic and well-preserved site at the end of a peninsula on the sunny Dalmatian Coast. The bustle of the train station in Venice reminds me of the opening scenes from “Murder on the Orient Express.” The old classic version, anyway.
(Also, a close friend has mentioned that in our latest boat and train selfies we tend to appear as a pair of large predatory birds with black beaks, and we want to acknowledge that comment.)
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The first part of this trip is easy because we’d been on the train between Venice and Trieste before. And it’s an enlightening trip through the broad Po River area, the important ‘breadbasket’ of Italy, where most of the crops—the wheat, the wine, and the rest—are grown. It still looks like a very prosperous area, although this year the rivers have reached very low levels due to the drought afflicting much of Central Europe. And according to CNN, they even just found a 1000 pound bomb from WWII lying in the exposed dry river bed near Mantua.
Fields and farms pass by our window, and then picturesque scenes of the Adriatic, as we get closer to Trieste. And soon we’re at the beautiful old Trieste train station.
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The train ends in Trieste and we’re not entirely sure how to proceed from there. But this is Europe, and there’s always a good way to get from one point to another. The bus station is just across the street from the train station, so we hop a cheap and comfortable bus to Koper and watch scenes of beautiful Trieste pass by our window, as we recall from a prior visit.
Soon the signs change to Slovenian and there’s no doubt we’re not in Italy any more.
At Koper we catch a local bus to Piran for a week of relaxation, good food, and swimming in the Adriatic to recover more fully from our flight and those busy few days in Venice. And we’d figure out the next leg of our trip later.
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In Piran we rolled our bags about a kilometer from the bus station to the scenic central piazza and then on a narrow alley that climbed steeply upward. After several blocks of struggling over rough cobblestones (our REI bags have large heavy-duty wheels) we reached the door of the charming little Max hotel, and found that our room, named ‘Maria,’ was two more flights up a set of narrow winding stairs.
It was a long day, but we made it, and fell unto the bed for a brief rest. Then we hit the town for a bit of exploration. And some dinner.
The church of San Giorgio is just up a steep ramp, and it promises an excellent view over the old city. By then we’re ready to stretch our legs and build up a good appetite.
As we climb the ramp the view becomes more spectacular, and a gorgeous sunset begins to unfold across the Adriatic Sea. Italy lies somewhere out there in the distance, under a wreath of clouds that we hope are bringing much-needed rain to Europe.
I get a couple of ‘oops’ shots to toss out. Or maybe use to torment you, dear reader. The first was a quick crowd shot taken just when that guy appears to be barfing over the edge. And in the other photo, meant to be an inspirational moment, I didn’t notice the light pole behind Carolyn and now it looks like a bat has landed on her head. Ah well.
The views from the top are worth the climb, and we notice some old city walls or ramparts at the top of the hill on the landward side that we’ll climb to on another day.
But now it’s time to descend into the sunset to the seafront below and look for some dinner. The well-protected inner and outer harbors below look like a fine place to dock a boat, and they look full to capacity.
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The seafront is cheek by jowl with every kind of restaurant, and people playing in the water. We look for some kind of ’Slovenian looking’ food, whatever that may be. Carolyn checks the offerings as best she can. And she’s careful to read the small print on a sign that’s touting ‘Free Beer.’
We find an empty table with a good view of the evening promenade along the waterfront and the distant lights that are shimmering across the bay. I order a caipiroska, made with vodka. For dinner we’ll share a plate of cheeses and another of meats. And that seems fairly Slovenian to us.
On our way back to a good rest in our room at the Max, we linger with others for a bit of fine ice cream. And then we enjoy a few minutes of beautiful harp music under a lonely street light. We feel very lucky to be here.
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The morning breaks cool and clear outside our window. Gusts of wind are pushing a few puffy clouds down the Sea. We go downstairs for a bite of breakfast and are confronted with a massive outlay awaiting us at the table. It’s a beautiful array that Max puts out every morning, but far more than we can handle.
I ask Max to translate the delicious jam called ’šipkova,’ and he tells me, “It is the small fruit from the small tree.” OK.
Meanwhile Carolyn takes a moment to read up on various local activities.
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And then we’re off to climb the city walls that crest the hill nearby. As we ascend the stairs the view gets better at each new level. And it’s magnificent at the top.
And San Giorgio, from the top of the church spire, is still welcoming local sailors back to a safe port in a building gale.
It’s a good climb, and I’m very glad there’s a stout handrail these days. That’s something the ancients didn’t have, and I wonder how many folks made a fatal last step back then. The steps are tricky enough without having to worry about slippery stones in a rainstorm while dodging spears and arrows from an attacking tribe.
And then it’s time for laundry. As they say, ‘laundry is forever.’ And it’s nice to find a place to take care of it, other than the bathroom sink and then hanging it in the shower.
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There’s no sandy beach here but we can leap from the concrete swimming pier into the cool and beckoning waters of the Adriatic. And we follow that later with an Aperol and a Campari at a little place with a good view of the harbor
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One of the best things about Piran is simply watching kids play on the big piazza. It has a smooth tile surface that avoids skinned knees, and the kids can slip and slide all they want.
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Evenings will find us wandering the narrow back alleys and enjoying our moments here. Then finding something new for dinner, of course. A lady at a table behind Carolyn is presented with a small birthday cake, and the whole place erupts into singing “Happy Birthday.” Same tune, with Slovene lyrics.
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On the way back to our lodgings, Carolyn stops at a shop that caught her eye a couple of days ago. And she actually pays retail for a nice outfit. (He made me do it! —Carolyn)
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Our main purpose in Piran has been relaxation, and to get to know a different part of the country than just Ljubljana. We spent a good week in the capital city a few years back and still have many fond memories of exploring the typical castle on a hill and other cultural aspects. But Piran is clearly a major playground destination for Central Europe, and we’ve made the most of it. We didn’t ever look for a museum or do anything terribly cultural.
We note that people don’t generally start a random conversation with others they don’t know. Is that due to an innate cultural reserve? Or maybe there are so many different languages in the large European community that you never know what to say to whom. There are 27 official languages in the EU alone, and many more local dialects. So we have found in larger cities and tourist areas, English is often the go-to language, the language of business, the ‘lingua franca.’ But in small towns and rural areas, many people still speak only their local lingo, or maybe some words from a neighboring country. And Spanish, our second language, is not useful in many places outside of Spain.
Carolyn did some research into the politics and stability of this small country that we rarely hear about. And maybe we who come from a land of vast divisions can learn something of civility from them.
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I’m curious about the social and political structure of Slovenia. This is our second visit to the country, the previous being to Ljubljana a few years ago. It is so pleasant—clean, pretty.... The food is good; people of all ages ride by on bicycles, families and lovers fill the parks and squares in the evenings. Children play with abandon. Everything is so orderly.
I wonder if Slovenia has experienced any of the immigrant challenges that affect other European countries. I don’t see signs that it has. There are no beggars on the streets, no signs of homelessness.
I look up “Politics of Slovenia” on Wikipedia and find what one might expect: descriptions of a stable, "...parliamentary, representative, democratic republic...” with a strong Western orientation. “Since the breakup of the former Yugoslavia, Slovenia has instituted a stable, multi-party, democratic political system, characterized by regular elections, a free press, and an excellent human rights record.”
So, it seems to be almost as idyllic as it appears. But still the question: No immigrants here?
A visit to Amnesty International provides some insight:
“SLOVENIA 2021. Asylum seekers were denied access to asylum and forcibly returned to Croatia.” And it goes on to report Slovenia’s practice of expelling asylum seekers as “…in breach of international law.” The measures taken to ensure this paradise have consequences.
It rather sums things up. Dealing with the world’s inequities is messy. Most of us, at the core, don’t like ‘messy.’ It’s much more pleasant to avoid the complexities of injustice. So I can easily relax into the delightful order and beauty of Slovenia as we travel, even as it triggers my moral compass. It’s food for thought, as we are only passing through. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn!
—Carolyn
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Next stop: Getting to Hungary the hard way. Please join us for that one!
— PRW