Plitvice Lakes National Park (Croatia)

At around 12 - 30 kuna (roughly $2-4), boreks are a cheap and hearty option for breakfast on the go. Puff pastry is rolled in a tube shape - or perhaps layered in a pie and served as a quarter slice - and filled with either ground meat, fresh cheese, or a sweet fruit compote. The meat ones, seasoned with black pepper and minced onions, taste almost identical to a Cornish pasty. The boreks are so generously portioned that you usually need both hands to eat it, and they also made easy packed lunches for our visit to Plitvice Lakes National Park.

The place ranks very high on the must-see lists. Tourists who may see nothing else of the countryside will come to Croatia's largest national park in a long day trip from the larger cities of Split or Dubrovnik. That being said, the park does lend itself pretty well to visitors of limited mobility (or those who just plain aren't used to the great outdoors) with trams and ferry access points and all of the main highlights neatly arranged in a series of clearly marked routes.

One quickly realizes the universal appeal of Plitvice. Breathtaking waterfalls drop from limestone cliffs into a succession of 16 clear, turquoise lakes. The highest waterfall, Veliki Slap, rises 78 meters high (~ 256 ft). Boardwalks meander around lush vegetation and smaller cascades rush over travertine terraces. Anywhere else in the world you would have had to rack up serious miles driving and hiking for days to achieve an itinerary of this many waterfalls.

Plitvice's popularity can mean congestion. We actually saw traffic jams, queues of people forming on the trails for the most impressive sights! There were some stragglers left from the marathon that occurred earlier, but we counted ourselves lucky that our visit still was just before the start of the high season. On the other hand, we were not so fortunate in the weather. Frequent, cool showers put a damp-er (Rich made me say that!) on our visit as we were ill-prepared without rain jackets in the first place, and even more so, after we lost the umbrella. In the end, we had to leave Plitvice a little early in search of dry clothes and hot showers... which were, sadly, not enough to ward off the colds we got as souvenirs. 

Poreč, Karojba, Motovun, Oportalje, Buzet, & Grosnjan (Croatia)

About 45 minutes north of Rovinj (or what should have been 45, but single lane stopped traffic stretched that considerably) is the coastal town of Poreč. We dropped by to take a look at the Euphrasian Basilica. In the ruins upon ruins, we came upon an odd sight of beautiful floor mosaics that were covered over with... layers of other beautiful floor mosaics. The Roman times were known for the relatively lavish lifestyles so I guess this is how successive owners all decided to redecorate?! As the current occupiers of the basilica, the Catholic Church has also done some interior design by accenting it with reliquaries, aka bits of dead saints in gold and bejewelled containers. Classy!

The interior of the Istrian region, however, bears a closer resemblance to the Italian countryside. Getting around this region still only lightly touched by tourism requires a car so we hired a VW Polo to tool around the tiny hill towns that overlook olive groves and vineyards. We stayed on a family farm in blink-and-you'll-miss-it Karojba. We quickly learned the "ham and cheese" option for breakfast was a large plate full of thin slices of przut (Istrian prosciutto) and a nicely aged sheepsmilk not unlike manchego.  

Each little hill town has a similar layout. Narrow, stone streets wind between charming old buildings in various states of romantic dishevelment. Motovun was by far the most touristic. Visitors must stop up along the steep road as only locals are allowed to drive into the town. Little shops sell handicrafts and gourmet foodstuffs to the coach tours who want to walk the city walls and take photos of the scenic valley below. 

In contrast, Oportalje was the most ramshackle of the towns we visited. Nearly half of the buildings were crumbling or under renovation. However, we did manage to visit a local olive oil producer not far outside it and taste his wares. The one restaurant in Oportalje did make a truly wonderful homemade pasta dish with an obscenely extravagant amount of fresh, shaved black truffles on the top!

Buzet, though, is the town most famous for its truffles. Black truffles found during the summer, and white ones from September to November. We bought into their reputation whole-heartedly and purchased wares there. 

Grosnjan was especially difficult to reach. We somehow missed a key sign and ended up on a single lane road that dead-ended in the tiny hamlet of Kostagna, where we had to execute an Austin Powers-style multipoint turn with the assistance of an amused, middle-aged, local lady. We retreated but then tried again to find Grosnjan later on the way home. We were rewarded. The town became an artists' haven, and it seemed like every other door was a gallery or workshop for painters, sculptors, photographers, or potters. Another round of delectable house made pasta with truffles - though not quite as luxurious as in Oportalje - made a very satisfied ending to our Istrian jaunt!

 

Rovinj (Croatia)

To continue on our way, we got up to take the 5:45 am bus back to Ljubljana, just in time to catch the small van that leaves once a day to cross the Slovenian border back into Croatia. This time we were heading to the coast.

A former stronghold of the Venetian Empire, the region of Istria (actually Istra in Croatian) has changed hands so many times that one could be forgiven for thinking they had stumbled into Italy. Rovinj is a fishing town, whose colorful buildings and labyrinthine alleys have guaranteed its popularity as a holiday destination. The frequent ferries between it and Italian towns across the Adriatic Sea help, and the port seems to attract the well-heeled yachting elite, too. We were greeted in German more times than we could count, a testimony to how many Austrians and Germans also find Rovinj irresistible. The town still manages to maintain its charm in the onslaught. Having a sladoled (= Croatian gelato) cafe on every corner and abundant fresh seafood sure doesn't hurt. When a typical Istrian dish of cuttlefish stew with polenta arrived, I was pleasantly surprised to find it bore more than a passing resemblance to low country shrimp and grits.

The basilica of Saint Euphemia sits high on the hill of the peninsula dominated by the old town. Legend has it that the remains of the martyr arrived safely on the coast of Rovinj after being thrown into the sea, which could explain the fisherfolk's devotion to her. There is an interesting mural of the saint with the lions who refused to eat her, and among the other usual suspects you'd expect to find (Blessed Virgin, angels, etc.), a statue of Mother Teresa who just looks too weirdly modern in such august company.

Triglav National Park and the Julian Alps (Slovenia)

Triglav Mountain, the highest mountain in Slovenia at 2864 m (9396 ft), is so emblematic that it features on the national flag. The park that bears its name is difficult to see via public transport so we joined an organized trip. Another reason not to drive yourself is that the road into the Julian Alps climbs steeply and winds through 50 switchbacks. Our first stop was a short but steep hike up a mountain still covered in snow... in our sandals. Near the top, we could see for miles: in one direction lies Austria, and in the other, Italy. The shifting fronts of World War I could still be seen in abandoned concrete bunkers and empty lookouts posted along the ridge. Part of our drive was through the Vršič Pass on the Russian Road, so called because of the many Russian prisoners of war who built it. A chapel commemorates those who died doing so.

Much of our route followed the Soča River. We hiked to the source, climbing boulders, and in some cases, clinging to cables anchored in the sheer rock walls. The water gushed out of the rock, flowing over a giant snowball, probably several meters in diameter, the last remnant of the winter snow melt. More cables and narrower rock bridges also brought us to a lovely waterfall cascading into a secluded cavern. There are many opportunities along the Soča for postcard pictures of alpine forests and dramatic limestone landscapes.

For a more active river experience, whitewater rafting was an excellent way to get the juices flowing again, especially after a long time in a minibus. The water of the Soča is a surreal turquoise hue and an invigorating 7 °C, making us glad for the thick neoprene wetsuits we were wearing. While the class III rapids weren't the most extreme we've done, there were sections that required some hard paddling and all hands taking cover in the center of the boat. No one fell out, although when the opportunity to voluntarily jump off a big rock into the whirling waters presented itself, I misjudged it, of course. Rich was a little nervous watching me swim hard against the current to make it back to the extraction point!

Lake Bled (Slovenia)

Lake Bled has been a popular holiday destination for over a hundred years... and deservedly so. A pristine lake with a small island in the middle, evergreen forests surrounding, and a castle atop a cliff thrown in for good measure - it is what the word picturesque must have been invented for.

A short, steep hike brings you to the castle, where we found the beginnings of a medieval camp, complete with tents with streaming banners, armor, and archery targets. Alas, we were a few days early for the festival! Hence the only activity we saw were the costumed docents grilling sausages over the fire for their lunch. The interiors of the castle contained a museum detailing who had occupied it, descriptions of the region at different historical and geological times, and several slightly creepy mannequins dressed based on local archaeological, burial finds. There was also a medieval printer's where you could press your own bookmark on handmade paper.

An easy walk around the lake takes but a few hours. However, should the romance of the setting take you, you can hop into a traditional pletna boat with a local man to pole you to the island, gondalier-style... or row your sweetheart yourself in a rowboat for two. On the island, 98 stone steps rise to a small church. Legend has it that grooms who manage to carry their brides up this ascent will have good luck, and the custom is still alive today.

Lake Bled was also where we got our first taste of ćevapčići and pljeskavica. These were, respectively, minced meat sausages (served in a hefty portion of 8 or 10 to a person) and giant minced meat pancake (accompanied by a scoop of local soft kajmak cheese more akin to butter). We found out later they are originally from Sarajevo but were so popular that variants could be found throughout the countries formerly part of Yugoslavia. Both dishes are delicious and very cheap, making them appear frequently on fast food menus. The most iconic dish of Bled, however, is a dessert, the kremšnita. Sandwiched between two layers of puff pastry is a thick layer of custard under an even thicker block of whipped cream. The concoction has been made fresh daily by chefs in the local grande dame hotel for over 60 years although every place around the lake seems to be well-equipped to serve it al fresco.