With passports desirous of another smudge, we’re off to Europe on a September sabbatical to spend our ‘fallidays’ cycling and hiking in Austria and Slovenia. From Munich we train to Passau and eagerly set the wheels in motion for a ride across the border into Austria, and ultimately across the country to Vienna.
The countryside is signposted with a maze of vocabulary-mauling seven-syllable village names looking more like a bad scrabble hand. The good news is that our ride follows a cutting board flat path escorting Europe’s longest river; the mighty Danube. And though the river may not be blue, the cloudless skies above clearly are. With a scarcity of rain most unusual for this time of year, it’s not exactly a thudding disappointment to be able to leave our wet-weather gear stowed in the panniers!
Weirdly, most homes along the route have their gardens defended by bearded garden gnomes in pointy red hats. A little mental flossing is required to expunge these images and make room for the more memorable moments including the striking countryside, a scrumptious wild boar dinner in the village of Pochlarn, a grandiose world heritage abbey at Melk, and a trainload of girls blowing kisses in Krem.
Swans float lazily in the river with their heads and necks forming feathered question marks, while fishermen patiently ply their craft along the banks. Riding through the gorgeous Wachau Valley, rolling hills are embellished with ancient castles, stone fortresses, monasteries, and vast terraced vineyards. And since this is Austria’s most famous wine region, we slip out of the saddle for a little sampling.
Five consecutive days of riding between Passau and Vienna cover distances of 83, 70, 71, 51, and 45 km; with nightly stopovers in the towns of Linz, Grein, Pochlorn and Krems. Each morning we guiltlessly graze at a lavish buffet enjoying a sumo-size breakfast and then squirrel away a little extra food as provisions for our day atop the bikes.
Though our hefty bicycles aren’t exactly Tour de France material the cycling is a cinch given the horizontal terrain, and sitting atop the bikes lets us get in touch with the world around us. Each day culminates with a hot shower to sluice away our salty cycling patina and then finding a suitable watering hole before putting some food in ourselves and ourselves in a bed!
After many miles of cycling our trip culminates in grandiose capital city of Vienna, where we shed our bikes and check in to ‘Pension Vitis’. Out wandering we come to the vibrantly painted Hundertwasser Haus’; a jumble of architecture created with total randomness and drunken angles that seems to imply it’s been designed by Dr. Suess. Not far away in Karlsplaz Station is the quirky ‘Opera Toilet’; a dapper little crapper for those interested in tinkling in a toilet with a classic Mozart melody tinkling in their ears.
Keen to experience a new country, we border bounce to the sunny side of the Alps and into the Republic of Slovenia. In this former province of Yugoslavia our first stop is Lake Bled; a town blessed with impossibly romantic and fairytale scenery that has us enthusing at every turn.
From an islet in the middle of the lake random bongs reverberate from a large wishing bell in a picturesque 15th century church, and rowboat cutouts in a wooden jetty give it the appearance of being chomped by the jaws of a prehistoric megalodon shark. Dramatically hanging off a cliff 130 meters above the lake is a 1000 year old medieval castle with the Julian Alps scraping the sky beyond. Yes, charm simply oozes out of the teeny town and gives it the look of an air-brushed cover of some fantasy novel.
Cycling through the villages of Podhom and Zasip we come to Vintgar Gorge, and locking up the bikes, stroll a boardwalk between rock walls constraining the Radovna; a river so clear the trout in it seem to be finning through air. Back in Bled we end our day with a scramble up Velika Osojnica Mountain via a steep tree-rooted path and the longest metal staircase-ladder we’ve ever seen.
Another Slovenia highpoint is a nine hour day trip into Triglav National Park with a lovely guide named Tina Hiti. After passing a bronzed mythical mountain goat at Lake Jasna and a wooden Russian chapel on the Vrsic Pass, we drive the highest road in Slovenia called the Mangart Saddle. Built in 1938 as part of the defense against the Yugoslav army, the gravel road traverses a mix of tunnels and switchbacks before terminating near the top of Mount Mangart.
Enjoying the therapeutic eagle eye vistas over Slovenia and Italy, Tina whips out a flask of homemade pine schnapps to toast the gorgeousness of the Julian Alps. Down out of the muscular mountains it’s time for lunch, so she takes us to a café and promptly orders a plate of bread and smoked lard! “Better than peanut butter” claims the excited Slovene talking around a glob in her gob.
Though not looking forward to it with anything approaching fervor, we swallow our objections and politely try to do the same with her cookie-tossing appetizer, but immediately wish we were doing something else with our mouth! For us, this goop is definitely an acquired taste not yet acquired! Tina, undaunted by our reaction, then proceeds to order us all ice cream covered in pumpkin seed oil!
Along with the Slovene’s slippery snack selection, Tina entertains us with an astute knowledge of her beautiful country and shares a couple of humorous expressions used by older Slovenians when they want to swear, but politely. Translated, one means ‘300 hairy bears’, and the other, ‘May a chicken kick you in the bum’! Already sifting through my brain cells for a way to work these gems into a conversation, I quickly conclude that I’d probably be better off trying to sell shoes to a snake!
With our ‘guffaw-full’ lunch now finished we wrap up our time with Tina with one last hike in the beautiful Soca Valley before returning to Bled. Flopped out on our deck beneath window boxes spilling cheerful red geraniums, we decant a hefty splash of Merlot and cheers another delightful Slovenian day!
Just before leaving we circumambulate bluish-green Lake Bled with one last stroll to ensure we’ve soaked in its beauty from every possible angle. Then, with it past our Bled time, we pack up our belongings and forge on to Ljubljana. What’s a Ljubljana you ask? Why, it’s the pint-sized capital of Slovenia of course.
The charming pedestrianized old town has 17 lovely bridges, and we walk from the modern city to the medieval town over the lovely Triple Bridge spanning the Ljubljanica River. Rregrettably however, our arrival happens to be on a blustery day with Noah-like rain that sounds a lot like gravel sliding off a shovel.
In the vicious wind our newly purchased umbrella immediately self-destructs upon opening, and with the black fabric turned inside-out and draped over her shoulders Christine now bears a striking resemblance to a tangled bat! Meanwhile the sky continues to dump its soggy bounty which crawls though our clothes as we splashily race back to the bus station to unpack some dry threads for our Slovenian departure.
Though clearly not as adventurous as many of our ‘back of beyond’ travels over the last three decades, we have thoroughly enjoyed our cycling spree; and very much look forward to re-cycling a few more European countries in the years to come!
Mark Colegrave 2011