Showing posts with label Austria. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Austria. Show all posts

Sunday, July 6, 2025

Cycling in Northeast Slovenia

For years, Mark had convinced me that retiring to northwestern Slovenia was the best choice. Due to its accessibility to not only mountains, rivers, and like minded outdoor enthusiasts, but access to medical care and city resources less than two hours away in any direction, we'd be spoiled for choice. During lulls at work, we’d ping each other with house sales in popular spots like Tolmin, Bovec, or Kobarid to keep the dream going. Some properties could be fixers uppers, others freshly remodeled- but because these areas are so popular for tourism, all are expensive and rarely stay on the market for long. 

In the early planning of our most recent Slovenian vacation, I pointed out that we had not been anywhere east of Ljubljana. I suggested we explore it by bike and it took zero seconds to convince him. Three years ago, we rode an Alps-to-Adriatic route, organized by a tour company called Visit Good Place. It was a mostly enjoyable week, cycling about 150 miles and climbing abut 9,000 feet with an initial fitness recommendation of low to medium. Some days I wanted to ride forever it was so pretty and the weather was so perfect and I wanted to marry the country. Some days we arrived to the hotel soggy, sore, and smelly from rain, sweat, and tears. Toward the end of this trip I mandated our bags to the balconies as they smelled like forgotten creamy potato soup left on the stove for a week in 90+ degree weather. We successfully finished the route tired, but proud.

My fate was sealed when I picked Visit Good Place’s Backcountry Gravel Tour that started in Maribor and ran west over four mountain ranges that would dip plummet in and out of Austria. The route would cover 200 miles and climb more than 28,000 feet during the week. Fitness recommendation: medium to high. Huh, I thought. I'm fit, no problem!

Having been a regular worker-outer, and Zwifting or bike commuting every day, I didn’t think what “medium to high” meant IRL outside of Astana where the highest climb is literally riding up and over a bridge. On this trip, there were zero days I wanted to ride forever regardless of prettiness and perfect weather. All of the days, I arrived to the hotel soggy, sore, and smelly. Some days we endured 8 hour downpours and headwinds, washed out trails, and deeply neglected single track. Everyday to the end, I was too tired to mandate our bags to any balcony.

This bike ride was so hard. SO HARD. It was steep, gravelly, and isolated and the weight of my can’t-do attitude surprised me. I wanted to quit at each false summit and I was angry at the world, feeling victimized and resentful I freely signed up this. It didn’t help that the kids and Mark seemed to cruise right on by, as I heaved and whined my way to the next check point. Everyday I gave myself STFU pep talks, shoved candy into my mouth and rode the damn bike.

There were some satisfying victories, like when we made it the tops of the ski resorts with panoramic views of what we’d just conquered. Descending on asphalt instead of gravel was sublime and euphoric. Beer never tasted so good. I got to say, “yeah, I did that” everyday. Also, it turns out this part of Slovenia is desperately beautiful. The bounties of mountain peaks, the sprawling meadows of wild flowers and farmland, and thick forests made us forget about the other side of the country. On the merciful last day of riding nearly 90% downhill into an unpronounceable town named Trzic, Mark was strategizing (and nearly executing) a new retirement plan, only a 200km shift to the east.

Jezersko

Jezersko

Solcava

Šmartno pri

Somewhere between Rogla and Šmartno pri 

Black Peak Summit

Soaked but faking it

Sausage vending machine
Sausage and burgers for lunch

Rogla


descending in the back country

too steep and rutted to ride up

Strategizing





Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Sweetness of Slovenia

Sometime in the last 15 years I have known Mark, I learned that one of his favorite romantic place on Earth was Bled, Slovenia. He hoped one day he would get married in a church that sits upon an island in the middle of Lake Bled. Life threw an unexpected, unplanned curve ball (David's birth) and the dream didn't come to fruition, and never will, if I have anything to do with it. Everything worked out for the best and here we are, now traveling and living internationally with two kids. Anyway, the Slovenia leg of our trip was an easy one to plan since he'd always wanted to come back, and I wanted see the place that gets him a wee bit misty eyed. So we rented a car and drove out of the tight city of Venice, and into the high, wide mountains of Slovenia. 

For the week, we planned to see castles, ski, hike, breathe in the fresh air, and play in the snow. The only thing that didn't go according to plan was that it didn't snow, so we had to settle on the lingering frost that coated everything overnight and the sparse, man-made snow at the ski resorts. 

The church on the island was gorgeous. Ninety-nine steps lead visitors from the shore to the base of the church doors and tradition requires the groom to carry the bride up the steps. It's paramount to a happy marriage. Beyond the church, on the hill is Bled Castle, built in the year 1011 and is easily the most visited castle in Slovenia. Initially, I was not super gung-ho about visiting, but after some mulled wine and a hefty hike up the steps, my attitude changed. 

First off: the view is of course magical, overlooking the lake, which at the time was smoother than glass. Second, the interior rooms were filled with things that kept the kids' attention, from jewels to weapons, toilets to clothes, to interactive videos. What took the cake though, were the castle staff who reenacted time-old professions. Margo and David learned how to bottle wine by a monk, and we met a blacksmith who was not only knowledgeable and hilarious, but a legitimately trained blacksmith. His lineage had been employed by the castle for hundreds of years. At least, that was how the story went. 

The blacksmith told us how Slovenia was responsible for outfitting the majority of Venice with wood and ironworks to build their bridges and houses. Both are still major exports for the country today. He showed us his craftsmanship, which I totally would have bought, were it my taste. Another lucky customer would get to buy his exquisitely detailed, soul-piercing Jesus on a cross. Telling us a bit of  Eastern Europe history, he described slavery as equal opportunity, and how children and women were not at all discriminated for agism or gender.  Fishing around in his apron for a coin to mint for another customer, I asked him if he had future lineage ready to take over his profession so he could enjoy early retirement. He tossed his chestnut brown ponytail, bound by a leather thong over his shoulder and said that first, he needed to find a woman dumb enough to marry him.

Outside of the towns were countless kilometers of hiking and exploring. Slovenes love being outside and take no heed to inclement weather. They simply gear up and go. On the trails, handfuls of hikers blew past us with hiking poles and miniature crampons, backpacks stuffed with backup gear. For good reason too: not even 3km up the mountain the sun disappeared and the trail went from brown to white. Snow covered or not, the trails are well marked with red and white bull's eyes, the official trail marker for their national park system. The trailheads also have signage boasting the power of surrounding oneself in negative ions. They are abundant in the forests, waterfalls, and beaches, and are believed to produce biochemical reactions that increase levels of serotonin, helping to alleviate depression, relieve stress, and boost energy. Margo and David enjoyed tracing a finger labyrinth. It was posted along the trail and aims to induce relaxation. Pro tip: always start from the outside in.  

I am certain the kids felt self-actualized when we took the kids skiing for the first time. They took a few lessons, skied with Grandma and Grandpa, rode the poma and chairlifts, and were left begging for more. The kids closed out the mountain, something I don't remember ever doing. After a fifteen year absence, I was nervous. Would I remember how to turn if something got in my way? Would I remember how to "ride Fat Bob?"  In both cases, yes- thank God.  I didn't remember however, was how fast and technically sound Mark's muscle memory was. He gave me a run for my money, and now he's making all sorts of plans to go heli-skiing when we move to Uzbekistan (August 2020).

On the way back to Venice, another dream of Mark's came true. We detoured to the Dolomite Mountains in northeastern Italy. Nearly 3 million years old, the peaks are jagged and intimidating, reaching as high as 10,967 feet (3343 meters). Huge chunks of WWII ran through these mountains with the 10th Mountain Division skiing and fighting between the peaks and ruts. James Bond's For Your Eyes Alone was filmed here as well as Cliffhanger, and thousands of skiers visit the multiple resorts every season. Early January meant frigid temperatures of 5F as the sun ducked behind the mountains. We had the pleasure of reaching these mountains at just about the same time. Subsequently, we drove nearly the entire route in 1st gear and descended into bumper to bumper traffic on the way to Venice. Next up: balmy Sicily, where I could finally wear cute sweaters and not freeze. Or so I thought.
Lake Bled with Bled Church, backed by Bled Castle.



Bull's Eye

Typical Schlink family death march.


Hibernating bees.

A little bit of Slovene went a long way.
Everyone loved our kids for their stabs at politeness.

Eating with my favorite people on earth.

So happy.
At the top of one of 37 Dolomite Passes

Photo credit: Mark

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Wein and Dine

We were treated to a night off (Christina, you are full of awesomeness!) from parenting, so Mark and I headed downtown for Date Night! Getting our priorities straight, we started with booze infused caffeine, enjoying the historic novelty of Café Central. Outside, Christmas lights lit the way to Saint Stephan’s, where we began our search for food. I was in the mood for Indian, but our search was fruitless and hungry stomachs began to take charge. Thinking Italian would be a fall back plan, we chose a restaurant that had a handwritten menu on display, full of promising choices. Right? I mean, even the waitstaff spoke Italian and the place was half full.
After being curtly denied for sparkling wine by our angry server, I settled on a watery yet chilled Pinot while Mark ordered the special: beer. It had the undeniable flavor of skunk.  First course: Sahara textured bread without butter. Mark was served broccoli stump soup that he managed to glug down with about a half cup of pepper and heaps of gritty parmesan cheese. But he still had hope he reasoned, it’s hard to mess up pasta! Well second course came around:  green pepper ketchup lasagna for Mark and I had slug carcass tortellini in a gristly gray sauce. We each took a bite of our own and a bite of each other’s before asking for the bill. It was that bad. We got out of there as fast as we could, laughing the entire time. Guess we’d better stick to kasekreiner!

This man made our evening complete.
We ate "dinner" at nearly midnight and it was awesome.
Sausage and beer.
It was one of the best dates we have ever had.

A Day for Deets in Vienna


Feeling particularly chilly today, Mark and I decided to head indoors. Not sure of Deets would appreciate the depths the Leopold Museum or Mumok would have to offer, we settled on the Zoom Kindermuseum. He joined Team Zissou, exploring an ocean themed play-seum for a blissful afternoon. He was captivated, and quite frankly, so was I. It was well worth the 4 euros.

Sea snake: some species can dive up to 100 meters.

 Now, this might not be funny to anyone but me, and it’s a total non-sequitur but their bathroom had a VERY gender specific trash can. It reminded me of this clip from Flight of the Conchords. Thank you HBO!
Where a woman has women's needs.


Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Va Va Vienna

Austria, opulent home to Silent Night, PEZ, and Porsche/VW founder. Boasters of pretty buildings, sausages chock full of vitamin D cheese, and an abundance of hot wine concoctions. For the Christmas holiday we stole away to Vienna for just that and more. Thanks to the Linzatti family, we had an apartment to shack up, a stroller for Deets to cruise in and firsthand tips on traveling about the city.  I mean, Christina literally showed up on the train we were on to get us started on our Viennese vacay! She's so awesome, and we get to meet her family later this week.  Time to get our touring on. Obviously, we hit the usual stops: Christmas markets galore, Rathaus (aka Parliament), and St. Stephans Cathedral. Deets was pretty much the most excited of all, as he feasted on giant food and was adored by everyone who walked by him.

Kasekreiner? Yes please.

Rathaus

Giant foodstuff.

The mug collection has started.