Munich to Ljubljana, Slovenia

Our first early morning train of the trip meant an early start to get ready and out of the door to the train station. Here began our comedy of errors, as the tram arrived at our stop, but wasn’t the tram number we had taken before. We didn’t have enough time to check if it went to the station before it left, and couldn’t risk it taking us to the wrong place, so it left without us. We hadn’t realised that it was a different number running during the weekdays than it was in the weekend… As we sat down to wait for the next tram with our train tickets to Ljubljana to see what platform to go to when we arrived, we realised the departure time was 7.26am, 20 minutes before we thought we were leaving… Now it was panic time, as we had about ten minutes to get there, and the next tram was still five minutes away. Surely we couldn’t make it in time… We arrived at the station stop and made a run for it, sprinting with our huge heavy backpacks through the building to the platforms. Awaiting us was an empty platform… five minutes too late!

After a long time in an information queue, Josh failed to slip through by pulling the sick card, and we were forced to buy a replacement ticket. Thankfully it was only one ticket since Josh and I were travelling on the Eurail passes, but it did mean we had a few hours to fill before the next train. We then got lost on the wrong tram into town (the same number we had missed from our stop that made us miss our train, this tram number had it in for us!!!), but finally made it to a café for coffees and food. Determined to order in German, we didn’t do too badly at all. After walking some shops, and visiting the huge double-towered cathedral, it was time to head back towards the station, making sure we were very early this time.
We found some seats in a compartment which we ended up sharing with a funny Spanish couple with little English who chatted to us mainly through hand gestures, about their disgust at German food and their love for their home city of Seville in Spain which we had to visit ahead of Madrid and Barcelona apparently (which they also disliked immensely). Another girl was also sitting with us, who was from the north of Germany but studying in Munich (and shared the Spaniards dislike for German food).

It was evening by the time we arrived in Slovenia, and we left the train for the sticky intense heat of Ljubljana, heightened by the fact we were carrying all of our gear with us. Another language to try and learn the basics of, we were fooled by some of the pronunciations in the Lonely Planet but thankfully corrected by a guy at the information desk at the station. A lot of people spoke English, but we were determined to try some Slovenian. We walked towards our hostel through concrete streets where many building exteriors had fallen into disrepair. It was not too far from the train station, and was actually a school hostel that was a traveller hostel during the summer months.

We dropped our bags, then left the room to explore the city, and started with a meal at a restaurant serving traditional Slovenian cuisine recommended by the hostel. As they’re so close to Italy, Austria and Slovakia, their traditional food includes seafood, game meats, stews, pizzas, pastas… a varied range of things from many places. We had initially thought it would be interesting to go to a foreign restaurant, avoid the English menu, and point to a meal and order it without knowing what it was, but luckily we didn’t at this restaurant, as the Bull’s Testicles on the menu did not take anyone’s fancy. Josh and Andrew instead chose stag steaks, which they really enjoyed, and I had a whole trout baked in foil with vegetables, that I couldn’t finish. The wine was incredibly cheap – less than a euro a glass at some places, and actually pretty good.

After we’d finished our meals, we walked through the old town, which is centred around the river that you can row down, many bridges connecting both sides, lovely old architecture and a growing café culture. We stopped at a studenty, artsy café/bar, described in our guide book as somewhere that you never get served at, where everyone is ultra-cool and snobby in an artsy kind of way, but we didn’t find that on this particular night (or maybe we are just so ultra-cool we didn’t notice), and ordered some Mojitos to sip away at outside, under a veil of mismatched umbrellas. A few drinks later, and we set off in search of the highly recommended Jazz Club Gajo, where there was an open-jam night on that night. It was a few blocks away from the main square, and we weren’t entirely sure we were heading in the right direction, but were soon led by the distant sounds of saxaphones, piano and drums, which guided us straight to the garden bar of the club. The exterior stage was alive with young musicians mixing together jam after jam while small tables crowded with people tapped their feet to the music – drink in one hand, smoke or cigar in the other. By some stroke of luck, we found an empty table and sat down for a drink. I got my first taste of what seems to be an Eastern European oddity – chilled red wine. I warmed the glass in my hands until it was relatively normal, and sipped away. It was a fantastic night, and the place had such a buzzing, electric atmosphere. We stayed until the musicians packed up, before walking back to the hostel along the river.

The next day we started with a great cheap breakfast at the hostel, with everything we needed for a great start to the day (expect perhaps some very good coffee…). A short walk into the old town, and we headed up to one of the areas biggest attractions – the castle on the hill, which is now mainly an exhibition space. It was a short but steep walk to the top on a pretty dry and hot day. We had read that the castle is a bit of a mishmash of different styles, which it indeed was – a puzzle of bricks. Apparently it has been destroyed and rebuilt numerous times due to earthquakes, different political leaders and so on, and it definitely shows.

Not entirely sure what sort of exhibitions we were going to see, we entered a room with some bizarrely bland, and quite honestly bad, paintings. We weren’t quite aware of the context of the works, but were left a bit confused. The main reason for going to the castle is to see the view over the city from the top of the castle tower, so we climbed the steep spiral staircase and took in the view over Ljubljana, extending far beyond the limits of the old town. Back down again, we were really hungry by this point, and Josh and Andrew decided they just had to try the local delicacy – horse. There’s a few burger joints called ‘Red Hot Horse’ serving up huge burgers, which the boys described as gamey (if a little chewy), but pretty tasty overall. Not sure they could have one every day of course… I refrained altogether.

We were joined by another traveller from Manchester, united by the fact we were carrying the same guide book and had ended up at the same restaurant described in it. He gave us some tips about where he’d been and what he’d enjoyed, and said he hadn’t really enjoyed Krakow in Poland at all, as it seemed like a bit of a farce designed for tourists, and wouldn’t give you any experience of what real Poland was like. It had been on our list of future destinations, and we decided to read up a bit before choosing whether to go or not. Josh left Andy and I in town to go back to the hostel and rest his feet, so we relaxed with another coffee before attempting a museum, but it was about to close. Instead we took a look inside St. Nicholas Church, through the entrance of intricately moulded brass doors that become sculptural works of art. It was a stunning interior, shimmering with gold from ceiling to floor. We happened to get caught in a private prayer ceremony halfway through our visit, and as we couldn’t understand a work of Slovenian prayer, we left the locals to it and walked back to the hostel.

Intrigued by a recommended Bosnian restaurant, we set out to the opposite end of the river for dinner, but sadly discovered it was closed (when we finally found it). It was getting late by this stage, and a lot of restaurants close around 10pm in the area, so we found a pasta place (Slovenia is supposed to have great Italian food as it’s on the border), and took a seat outside to eat. A bit of antipasto to start (again accompanied with a chilled red wine???), and the food was initially good, but the mains we weren’t all as lucky with. My seafood risotto was quite tasty, but Josh and Andrew’s ravioli meals were pretty awful. Dry, bland, and Andy’s was a strange, almost Asian flavoured, concoction. It was quite funny despite, or perhaps because of, the taste. I tried to order a glass of rose instead of more chilled red, as apparently the area is known for them, and the waiter smiled and nodded, then brought over yet another chilled bloody red. I really did not understand. I guess the upside is they’re insanely cheap. During our meal the rain had begun to pour, and luckily this time we were more prepared than our biking experience in Salzburg, so we zipped up our jackets, got out the umbrellas, and walked back to the hostel.