With passports desirous of another smudge we’re off 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 scads of vocabulary-mauling village names looking more like a bad scrabble hand, but the good news is our cycling follows a flounder-flat path that escorts the mighty Danube. Though Europe’s longest river may not be blue the cloudless skies clearly are, and with a scarcity of rain unusual for this time of year, it’s not exactly a thudding disappointment to leave our wet-weather gear stowed in the panniers!
Homes along the route have their gardens weirdly defended by bearded garden gnomes in pointy red hats. These little dudes require a little mental flossing to expunge their images and make room for the more memorable moments such as a scrumptious wild boar dinner in the village of Pochlarn, the striking countryside, the grandiose world heritage abbey at Melk, and a trainload of girls blowing kisses in Krem.
Swans float lazily in the river with heads and necks forming feathered question marks, and men in waders patiently ply their craft along the shore. Ancient stone fortresses and monasteries punctuate the Wachau Valley and its rolling hills are embellished with and vast terraced vineyards. With the area also Austria’s most famous wine region we slip out of the saddle at a winery for a little sampling of the grape.
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, and after a sumo-size breakfast squirrel away a few extra goodies for sustenance on our day atop the bikes.
Our hefty bicycles aren’t exactly Tour de France material but the cycling is a cinch given a horizontal terrain. Each day’s ride ends in a new village or town, and after a hot shower to sluice away our salty cycling patina we wander the little towns before putting 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 walking we come to the vibrantly painted Hundertwasser Haus’ and find it 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 we spot the quirky ‘Opera Toilet’, a dapper little crapper where one can tinkle 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 lodging is in 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 comes the distant tolling of a picturesque 15th century church’s large wishing bell, and along the lakeshore, 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 the 1000 year old medieval Bled Castle with the Julian Alps scraping the sky beyond. Yes, charm simply oozes out of a teeny town looking like an air-brushed cover of some fantasy novel.
After cycling through the villages of Podhom and Zasip to Vintgar Gorge, we lock up the bikes and follow 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 finish off 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 blend of tunnels and switchbacks before terminating near the top of Mount Mangart.
Enjoying the therapeutic eagle eye vistas over Slovenia and Italy with Tina, she whips out a flask of homemade pine schnapps to toast the gorgeousness of the Julian Alps. Then, 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, mumbling 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 appy. Immediately however, the mournful mouthful has us wishing we were doing something else with our mouth. For us, this ghastly goop is definitely an acquired taste not yet acquired! Undaunted by our reaction Tina 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 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 finished we wrap up our day with one last hike in the beautiful Soca Valley. Back in Bled we flop out on our deck beneath window boxes spilling cheerful red geraniums and decant a hefty splash of Merlot to 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, pack up and forge on to Ljubljana; the pint-sized capital of Slovenia.
The pedestrianized old town is charming with its 17 lovely bridges, and walking from the modern city to the medieval town we use the lovely Triple Bridge spanning the Ljubljanica River. Regrettably however, our arrival is on a blustery day with Noah-like rain that sounds a lot like gravel sliding off a shovel.
The wrath of day’s vicious wind has our newly purchased umbrella immediately self-destructing 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! With the sky soggy bounty continuing to crawl through our clothes, we splashily race back to the bus station 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 are very much look forward to re-cycling a few more European countries in the years to come!
Mark Colegrave 2011