Rijeka & Ljubljana

Rijeka

As we left Split Rach told me all about her ambition to one day make her way back there to rescue the campsite cats from their dreadful lives on the beach getting fed by strangers. Cats or no cats, it's definitely somewhere we'll be going back to. We absolutely loved Split. Preferred it even to Dubrovnik.

We stopped for lunch at a lovely looking spot that I'd found on the brilliant park4night app. It was a large rest area halfway up a hill overlooking the Adriatic sea and the hazy islands which lay off the coast. It was beautiful. It was just a shame we'd had to drive up through a miniature village to get there. It was nuts. The streets were about 4 feet wide. There had been a much easier way to get there, but as usual our very expensive sat nav decided to take us on the most bananas route possible. I reckon the sat nav has actually been programmed with a sense of humour. A sick sense of humour. It would certainly explain its price tag.

That afternoon we ended up in Rijeka, a town at the northern tip of the Adriatic. It was our last stop on the coast and our last in Croatia. After parking up near a park above the city, we descended the 516 - yes, 516 - steps to the town centre, then wheezed our way through town past some classic Croatian buildings replete with green wooden window shutters - the same as we'd seen in Split, Dubrovnik, Cavtat and Makarska.

We discovered - via the many red banners hanging above the main high street - that Rijeka is the European Capital of Culture for 2020. While the place seemed perfectly pleasant, I did think it was a surprising choice. Having said that, Liverpool got the title in 2008 and everyone there is a tracksuited thief.

The Mail Online

Whilst sat at a local bar with a drink, I received an email from a press agency in Birmingham informing us that the story they'd written about us had been picked up by the Mail Online. We clicked on the link and there it was. It was quite surreal. The comments under the article were entertaining. Most were positive but, of course, we had the most fun reading the negative ones. There are some truly miserable people out there. Wretchedly unhappy bastards. It's actually quite impressive.

Unbelievably, despite the negative Mail comments, the worst actually came from a couple of members of the Facebook motorhome forum Rach is in. They'd taken offence at her posting a link to the Mail in the group (signalling to everyone the depth of goodness within their souls). One woman was particularly snarky and unkind. Remember, all Rach did was post a link to our story. This woman was acting like we'd emailed her the fucking Coronavirus. Rach took a quick look at the woman's timeline (as you do). First thing she saw was a post pleading with everyone to show 'kindness, love and peace' wherever they could. Predictably hypocritical.

Our evening in Rijeka was spent watching The Lighthouse at a beautiful old local cinema. I swear, how Willem Dafoe was not nominated for an Oscar I will never know. His epic monologue about halfway through the film was worth the award alone. After the film, we made our way back up the 516,000 steps to the van, then collapsed. The next day we were crossing the border into Slovenia. Thank you for having us Croatia. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Slovenia

30 seconds after crossing the border into Slovenia we saw a corpse hanging from a lamppost. Which is always a startler. As we got closer we realised it was just a dummy with clothes on. Driving through Slovenia, we noticed that the roads contained an awful lot of poorly installed manhole covers. They sank quite far into the tarmac, which was perfect for us what with the van having the suspension of a lego car. Every time we drive over even the smallest rivet, it feels like we're driving into a 3 foot ditch. It's fantastic. The only way it could get any better is if we always left the washing up in the sink, so it could rattle and clank around. I've just remembered, we do that too.

Ljubljana

We arrived in the Slovenian capital. Ljubljana is an absolute delight to behold, but even more so to spell correctly. The sneaky use of the two silent 'j's' lends a real character and quirky aesthetic charm. Just wonderful word architecture.

Ljubljana is a very cosmopolitan city, bursting with the influence of many different nationalities. It has a superb service industry. The bars all had heaters under the tables, which is an utterly genius idea. I loved how wide and spacious the streets were in the newer part of town. It reminded me of parts of Berlin.

Like Berlin, Ljubljana has a modern feel to it, but there's lots of history to enjoy too, with many amazing buildings to feast your eyes on, in particular some great cathedrals and churches, like the stunning Church of St Nicholas. We loved walking along the river from the famous Dragon Bridge and taking it all in. You've got to love a river running through a city. Seems like all the great cities of the world have one: Ljubljana, Budapest, Ipswich.

Slovenians are really friendly. When we nipped into a souvenir shop to get a flag sticker for the back of the van (we've been collecting them since Latvia, no idea why we didn't start before that), we were welcomed in by an impossibly jolly shopkeeper, who proceeded to go into the detailed ins and outs of the rules on car stickers since Schengen came into force. He didn't get the sale because his stickers were crap, but it was a bloody good effort.

The drinks situation doesn't always go smoothly in this part of the world. At one point we ordered a lemonade (me) and a hot chocolate (Rach). The hot chocolate was thicker than cement and the lemonade was basically just bitter lemon water. I'd experienced the still 'lemonade' thing in Zagreb too. It's the opposite problem to the one we had in Norway, where we couldn't stop accidentally buying sparkling water.

We made our way up a massive hill to see the famous castle which overlooks the city and the distant snowy mountains. Inexplicably, we walked up, but got the funicular back down.

I can't see my pasta

Our last night in Ljubljana was Valentine's day. I know the rest of the day had been Valentine's day too, but I'd forgotten about that. Rach had booked for us to go for a surprise meal. She was really excited about it. Turned out to be Dinner in the Dark. As in, dinner with the lights off. Couldn't see a fucking thing. Well, I say that but about halfway through the meal I actually pointed out a little source of light that I could see to the waiter, who then hurriedly went to cover it up. I should've asked for my money back. I have to be honest, I wasn't completely sold on the concept, although that's not to say I didn't enjoy it. It was certainly a unique experience. It was so weird being sat there in a room with ten other couples, eating and drinking in total darkness. Rach and I couldn't see each other even slightly. Rach said the idea was that it heightens all the other senses. I would say it was romantic, but I couldn't shake the feeling Rach had booked it just to get some respite from looking at my disgusting visage. I wouldn't blame her.

Am I the only one who thought that respite was spelt 'restbite'? I'll have to add that to my other embarrassing mistakes, like thinking 'chimney' was 'chimley' until I was... well, far too old.

Recommended park up in Rijeka:

http://park4night.com/lieu/132744/