Weather for ducks

We heard the rain pattering on the glass roof of the swimming pool all night. As the last day we'd spend in Slovenja dawned, it was still pouring. We were up early and had breakfast before deciding golf would not happen. After we cancelled our tee time, we met Tanis in the lobby ready to embark on a trip to the Bled Island. Glen convinced me to join her as I really wasn't keen.

We walked down to the boat dock and instead of the open, quaint boats we'd seen plying the water, we were told to enter an enclosed, motorized one. Considering the weather, this seemed like a good idea. While our captain tried to drum up more business we watched the ducks and swans gathering on the dock. Even they seemed to enjoy the shelter the trees provided.

Over the previous days, we'd seen rowers out on the lake. There were permanent starting gates and lane markers near the centre of town. On this Saturday morning,we watched them set up to race despite the pouring rain. In 2011, Bled hosts the World Rowing Championships. The last time they hosted the games, in 1989, the country was still part of Yugoslavia.

As ten minutes became twenty, we began to think we'd have to forego this island journey as I still had to pack our suitcases. Watching ducks, swans, and rowers passed the time but it wasn't why we were sitting in a damp boat on the lake. Finally, the captain herded two others on board and we were off, chugging slowly towards the island.

"You have 30 minutes," our captain warned us. We knew if we missed him, it would mean paying double (it was 12 euros or $16 each collected as we returned to the boat so I'm not sure how they could charge double). We scurried up the mossy steps to the back of the Church of Mary the Queen. Its front boasts a 99 step staircase (built in 1655) where most tourists disembark. We took a short tour of the grounds then bought tickets to go enter the church (3 euros or $4). Inside was a gilded wood altar built in 1747 (the first chapel was erected in the 8 or 9th centuries). Hanging before the altar was a stout hawser. Tanis read us the legend of the wishing bell and began yanking

on this rope.

Apparently a widow, mourning the death of her husband, had a bell cast for the island chapel in his memory. However, a storm capsized the boat bearing the bell and it sank to the bottom of the Lake Bled. Devastated, the woman entered a Roman covenant and upon her death, the Pope donated another bell to the chapel. It is said if you ring the bell three times in honour of the Blessed Virgin, your wish will come true. We all pulled the bell and time will tell if our wishes were heard.

This bell-ringing also explained why I'd thought the church counted the minutes when Ruth and I walked the lake shore earlier in the week. All I can say is the Blessed Virgin must be very busy listening to all the wishes arising from her church on the Isle of Bled.

The rest of our morning was spent packing then we stowed our bags at the front desk after checking out. Our bus to the airport was at 4:00 pm so we had time to kill. We did this in Pub Bled having lunch and enjoying several Slovenian beers, first on their patio but then inside the warmer, drier pub.

Our driver got us to the aiport in plenty of time. When we reached our gate, the place was like a tomb. I guess being such a small airport, you really didn't have to arrive more than a half hour before your flight.

We arrived in Frankfurt at 7:30 and hunted for the shuttle buses to the airport hotels. We were staying at the Steigenberger. Unfortunately, an information desk person sent us up to the taxis. We've had issues with hotel shuttles in the past--once waiting 2 hours for one, so Glen decided to grab a cab. The driver was NOT happy when we showed him the name of the hotel. I guess he lost his place in line for a 10 euro ($14) fare so was a bit huffy about that. Still, he drove us to the hotel after we explained we couldn't find the shuttle buses.

The hotel upgraded our room to the Executive Tower and we had a very modern, black and white hotel room. The shower had two nozzles, one for washing and one that flowed like rain. Glass, wood, and black tiles were the bathroom's decor so I took pictures should we wish to copy this design in the future.

Having had a sandwich on the plane, I wasn't wanting to eat dinner so we enjoyed some Bitburger beer in the lobby bar then headed to bed.

Unlike others at the conference who had to rise early to catch an 8:00 am bus, we slept in and had a leisurely breakfast. I had roll mops, cerviche, and smoked salmon so it was a cultural experience. Glen enjoyed apple tarts and pancakes with acorn syrup.

Frankfurt airport was busy so it was good we arrived two hours before our flight. We met a couple from Ottawa in the line at passport control. They had been on a Mediterranean cruise so told us a bit about their time in Venice. Our passport official was very slow so they began to worry they'd miss their boarding time. At this point another Ottawa passenger asked to 'butt in'. We let him but that started a trend. One man said he had 5 minutes to make his gate so the chap behind us, also going to Calgary, told him this was the slowest line ever so try another one. The next fellow who wanted in, we asked where he was going. Well, he picked the wrong line to butt in as he was on the same plane as us. Glen told him he had plenty of time to make the gate so to go to the back of the line. The guy behind us added his voice to Glen's so the man quickly disappeared.

Before going to our gate, Glen wanted to check out Cuban cigars in the Duty Free shop. We never buy Duty Free but Glen couldn't resist the price on his favourite cigars. Doing the math, he figured he paid 30% less than if he had bought them in Calgary.

We met up with Tanis and George at the gate and Ruth and Tom were also there having changed their departure from Monday to Sunday. It was a good flight and I was even able to sleep thanks to the wine we had with lunch. There was a medical emergency on board that we later learned involved a diabetic who had forgotten to take her medication. It meant the plane had priority landing.

Customs was packed with two oversea and two American flights landing at the same time but we got home just after 5:00 pm so I made a quick supper and then we went to bed. I hate jet lag!!!

What's with me and cemeteries?

My only plans on Friday morning was to meet up with Ruth and go from there. I hunted the conference breakfast room and the lobby to no avail. Finally I decided to knock on her door. I didn't know her room number but knew she had a corner unit. Of course, I picked the wrong unit and had to apologize to an elderly couple who showed no signs of speaking English.

Rattled, I decided to go off on my own instead of banging on another door. Probably just as well as Ruth was in the shower when I came knocking so she would not have answered.

I wandered the back streets of Bled, some of which bordered the surrounding farmland until I came to the main road to Ljubljana. I thought this might lead me to the golf course so I followed it. We had booked a tee time for Saturday morning but I wanted to check out the 'lay-of-the-land' before we played. I never made it to the course because an intersecting highway beckoned me.

This road went pass an apple orchard and several schools. It was recess time and so the children were out enjoying the sunshine. The road curved so I told myself that after I saw what was beyond, I'd turn around. That's when I stumbled upon the cemetery. It was a lovely place and I was not alone strolling past the stone memorials. What fascinated me most were the red glass lanterns, sometimes four or five on a grave.

By this time, I had lost sight of the castle. Remembering our problems in Germany, I retraced my steps instead of heading down side roads in the direction of the lake. I came back to the hotel to find Glen in the room honing his talk. He was to give it at the end of the day. We had lunch and I finally connected with Ruth so we spent part of the afternoon touring the jewellery and souvnier shops then hit our favourite Pub Bled for a beer before going back to our rooms to prepare for the banquet.

I wasn't back in the room five minutes when it began to rain. The banquet was at the Grand Hotel Toplice right on the lake, and we were to have drinks on the terrace. Remember the stairs? Now I had to climb them in high heels and carry an umbrella (not sure when I last used our travel ones so we've been lucky).

Glen's talk was well-received so several people wanted to talk to him before and after dinner. We sat with Ruth, Tom, George and Tanis. The meal we had was elegant. It began with prosciutto, goat cheese and tomato paired with a Slovenian Pinot Rose, then came buckwheat krapi, which are like pirogi, served on grilled mushrooms. The main course was veal served with cheese strudel. I drank the Benedict Red wine and it flowed freely. We'd just finished the veal when the conference organizer came around with the DJ to asked for dance music suggestions.

Glen said Bony M and Rolling Stones. Someone else suggested ABBA to which Glen said, yes but not The Dancing Queen. We hooted when the first dance played was The Dancing Queen. Of course, we had to get up and dance to it. We were the first on the dance floor but were quickly followed by another couple. The next song was Rasputein by Bony M so we had two good dances. By this time the dance floor was packed so we went back to our table. Maja, the conference organizer, came over and thanked us for getting the dance going. Hey, it's what we do.

By this time, it was 10:00 so cognisant of the fact we had to be up early to golf, we had one more dance then left. I hobbled up the stairs in the pouring rain. Note to self: never wear open-toed shoes in a rainstorm.

Stairway to Heaven?

The theme of this post is stairs. There were about about 100 steps taking one from Bled Lake to the Golf Hotel. Done once, it was not too bad but over the course of Thursday, I did more climbing than this old body was used to.

Ruth and I set out after a buffet breakfast in which I had the tastiest hot grain (perhaps buckwheat groats) cereal imaginable with prunes and apricots cooked in milk. I didn't stop there as prosciutto and smoked salmon also begged to be tasted. I'd forgotten how much I loved of café au lait with the milk as steaming hot as the coffee so enjoyed this treat as well. So, the first time walking down those stairs, I waddled.

Our plans were to stroll around the lake. Some people said it could be done in under an hour but I knew I'd be stopping for photos so banked on it taking longer. It didn't seem like two hours passed as Ruth and I had a great time chatting about our families and our lives living with a man who worked in medical science.

The island (there is only one island in the country of Slovenja) in the middle of Bled lake has the Church of Mary the Queen perched regally upon it. This picturesque chapel rang its bell every five minutes, it seemed. Since the town church sounded every quarter hour, I wondered if Mary the Queen divided the hour even further.

Fifty-four photos later we rounded the lake and came back to the outskirts of Bled. As we crossed the river flowing from the lake, we both realized that the coffee and diuretic (me) had hit so we upped our pace. We were undaunted by the steep stairs to the hotel and fairly flew up them.

Since I was a registrant at the meeting, my meals could be had with the others so I joined Glen for lunch. The antipasta (Italy is a not far away) and asparagus soup were delicious. To that I added stewed venison and polenta. Ruth ate with others but we had agreed to meet after lunch. That was not to be so I spent the afternoon by myself.

I again walked down those horrid stairs but instead of going right to the lake, I sauntered along the road past the souvenir shops. I was on my way to the castle so didn't want to lose any elevation if I could help it. The path to Bled Castle was off a road I had traveled that morning but the sign is almost an afterthought. A couple of steps cut into the bank beside the road alerted me to its existence.

My climbing instincts are good after hiking in the Rockies so when the trail broke into multiple versions of well-trod paths, I chose the ones that allowed me to switch-back up the cliff. It was so nice being in the peace of the woods. I was very much alone but had no fear of bears or cougars which would have plagued me in Canada.

Towards the top were, you guessed it, more stairs. These were of old stone and I wondered how long they had etched the hillside. They switch-backed up the steep grade until light appeared to split the trees. Huffing and puffing, I came to stand beside a parking lot. I had no idea a road led to the place.

The castle's entrance fee of 7 euros ($9.50) was steep but the view was so worth it. Besides two outdoor cafés, there was a tiny museum to explore outlining the history of the castle. It was first mentioned in 1004 when the German Emperor Henrick II gave the Bled estate to Bishop Albuin of Brixen. The castle itself, at that time consisting of its Romanesque tower, went to the bishop's successor. It is the oldest castle in Slovenja and was expanded during the Middle and Baroque Ages. Gracing the upper courtyard is a chapel built in the 16th century but decorated with frescoes in the 1700s.

The castle also has a herbal collection and wine cellar. George had bought some wine the previous day and could bottle it himself. The castle hosts weddings and the wine bottling is part of celebrating the special event.

But, I was not there to learn about the history of the castle or bottle wine, I was there to photograph Bled Lake, Bled Island, and the surrounding Julian Alps. Tanis joined me on the stone courtyard having seen all the conference's posters she needed to see. She is also a keen photographer and has a good eye for what makes a good photograph. Fifty shots later, I was ready to leave the 130m cliff and descend down the stairs to the lake. There I met Ruth and Tom (also taking a break from the meeting).

Glen was in the room doing his email when I hauled myself up the stairs to the hotel. He decided he'd only attend one afternoon session as the rest dealt with veterinary C. difficile. Ruth knocked on our door and we headed down the stairs for a beer in Pub Bled. In the back of my mind, I knew I'd have to ascend them to eat supper.

The buffet was excellent and I enjoyed trout served with a garlic sauce and garnished with horseradish. Somehow, it worked. Afterwards we joined Tanis, George, and some scientists from Britain and went back down to the pub. My legs were screaming, why?, but I ignored them. After a couple of Slovenian beers, we trudged back up to our room. I slept without rocking.

If it's Tuesday, it must be Slovenja

Slovene seems to be a language of 'j's and 'v's. I soon learned the j sounds like y and v like u. So the capital city of Slovenja,Ljubljana, sounds something like lube-lee-anna. We flew into the Ljubljana airport late Tuesday night. I had found a small hotel (after a search on the Internet) nearby that had a shuttle service but no one came to meet our plane. No problem, we grabbed a cab and showed him the address. He was happy to take us for the 10 minute ride (this scenerio in Frankfurt had different results).

The photo on the hotel's website showed a quaint, Bavarian/Swiss type place. Little did I know it would be in the middle of nowhere. Penzion Jagodic was a three story inn with a maze of rooms (36). It boasted a sauna, free wireless, a large dining room (with a disco ball), and a pub-style lounge.

When we arrived at 11:30 pm, it looked like no one was awake. The taxi took off before we could try the inn's door. Fortunately, it opened and we quickly checked in.

As I waited with our luggage, another visitor came to chat asking me where I was from. An Israeli, he shivered despite layers of sweaters. He asked me if I were cold but of course, I wasn't. It was nice to enjoy the brisk country air after city hotels with sealed windows.

We crammed our luggage into the tiny elevator, then negotiated a labyrinth of halls to our room, the wheels of our suitcases making a terrible racket on the tile floors. When we entered the small room, both Glen and I burst out laughing. The bed was two single mattresses jammed together in a queen size bed frame with a polished wood board erected between them. Glen quickly removed it commenting that, with this set-up, he could tell if I were angry with him as the board would be back in place. We snuggled under our down comforters and slept solidly until church bells woke us the next morning.

Penzion Jagodic was one of three tiny hotels in the village of Vopovlje (population 121 according to Wikipedia). Breakfast, a hearty spread, was included in the 76 euro price but we had to pay 3 euros (total for room & ride, $110) for the shuttle service back to the airport. Our bus to Bled was to pick us up at 11:30 am so we enjoyed a leisurely meal and a walk about the tiny town and into the surrounding farmland. It was such a contrast to the press of people that was Prague.

Why go to Bled was the question asked of us before we left Canada. A Clostridium difficile conference was the answer, otherwise we'd have never visited this tiny country and never known its incredible hospitality. Unlike Prague and Frankfurt, most of the tourists in this mountain town were from Eastern Europe. All the Slovenians spoke some English and really appreciated the tips we gave, thanking us like we had bestowed a gift upon them. It was a nice change from North America where any tip under 20% is sneered at.

The Ljubljana airport was tiny, smaller than Victoria's, so we sat outside, between the two doors, waiting for the shuttle to arrive. Others gathered until two vans were full. Funnily enough, Glen knew no one in the crowd but the man who sat next to us was from Montreal. Truly a small world since he worked with a woman Glen knew when he did his post-doc.

The conference was held in the Golf Hotel, one of several run by Sava Hotels in the Bled area. Upon arrival, we met

George and Tanis making plans to take a bike ride that afternoon. We couldn't get into our room so stowed our luggage and headed down the stairs to the town (I would come to hate those stairs). Glen fancied a sandwich for lunch but it was after 1:00 so the first restaurant we sat in had begun serving its dinner menu. I discovered a pub as we walked George to the bike shop and it, Pub Bled, became our drinking joint for the rest of the meeting. The view from its tiny patio in the trees was spectacular.

When I saw Toast on the menu, I was back with my parents in Italy enjoying beer and 'toast' in an outdoor café. Our server explained that not all the sandwiches were available so we ordered what we could. My ham and cheese with cucumber ended up being ham, cheese, and a pickle but was still very tasty. Glen had a tuna melt. Both were cheap and so was the beer at 2,50 euros ($3.50) for a pint. We drank Austrian, Hirter beer as it was on tap but soon discovered Slovenian beer could be had in quart bottles so drank mostly Union beer after that.

Our room had a fantastic view of the lake, church, and castle. After getting settled, we walked around the lake enjoying the sights of swans with their cignets, boats being rowed like the gondolas in Venice, and the mountain castle. Glen's first session was at 4:00 with a reception at 7:00 so I spent the time in our room gazing out at the unbelievable scenery. The reception was a lavish spread with Slovenian wine and many tasty treats from the area. Bled is famous for a type of cake, Kremsnita, that melts in your mouth. It is often glazed with local honey and I was witness to the thousand of bees that 'worked' the town.

During the reception, we hooked up with some other Western Canadians but only one had brought his spouse. Ruth and I hit it off so after the reception, we walked down to Pub Bled and had a beer with her and her husband, Tom. She and I made plans to walk around the lake the next day.