Friday, September 5, 2014

View from the Pillion - Last day of our ride

We're heading back to Ljubljana today - which as the crow flies, is not that far away. But we have some passes, mountain roads and sights to see on the way. We start with an invigorating ride through the Vršič Pass, in the reverse direction from the previous day. It's not as wet today, but the cobblestones and the tight corners are still intimidating. I find myself counting the turns, which are clearly numbered and when we get to 50 we're through the pass. This type of riding is quite tiring even for the pillion.
A brief stop at a ski resort, which is busy even at this time of year with many visitors and a big contingent of Harley riders gathering for their convention. We continue en route through the Julian Alps.
Riding beside rivers, around mountains and along lush valleys, we come to the beautiful spa town of Bled. Situated on a glacial lake which boasts Slovenia's only island, it is picture perfect and the whole setting seems staged for romantic fantasies. 
Now a busy centre of tourism, Bled is a very old town, appearing first in written documentation way back in 1004. The ferry man rows us in a traditional flat-bottomed wooden boat to the island past swans and dawdling row boats. Tradition has it that at weddings, the groom has to carry his wife up the 90 steps to the church. We pause for a group photo. 
The view from the top is enchanting; across the lake to Bled Castle perched perilously on the top of a sheer cliff, Entry to the castle is free if you eat at the restaurant, so it makes perfect sense to make this our lunch stop. The food is excellent with plenty of local specialties. I order the John Dory, a fish I don't think I have ever eaten and Peter has the deer. They are both delicious. It is very relaxing sitting in the sun in the courtyard of this ancient castle. We all cherish the moment and reflect on the fun, the camaraderie and the exhilaration of our adventure together. 




At Bohinj Lake we stop very briefly before continuing on for our last mountain ride of the journey.
Soon after, the heavens open and we are pelted by heavy rain. So we stop beside a heavily wooded area and try to get some shelter while we quickly slip on our rain gear. By now we have become experts at doing this and it's not long before we are on our way again. But as soon as we crest the pass, the rain stops, the roads are dry and we have a nice ride to the lovely medieval village of Škofja Loka.

Škofja Loka is  one of the oldest settlements in Slovenia. It is a well preserved oasis in the middle of a bustling, modern town. Dan leads us through a maze of streets to the town square where we find a table and have our last coffee stop together as a group.

There are some nice shops in the narrow streets and June wanders off for a recce, returning with a stylish pair of sandals. It's time to say good by to Dan's daughter, Karin who will be leaving us along the last leg of the trip. We all enjoyed having her along for the ride and I think she had a good time too.
Back at the headquarters of Adriatic Moto Tours we are warmly greeted by Primož and other staff. Champagne is popped and we toast each other and give warm thanks to Dejan who has been an excellent guide; making each day a new adventure. Warm hugs to Primož too who was so much fun, took care of our bikes and made sure our bags were delivered to the right rooms every night.
Peter and I have an early departure in the morning, so back at Hram Kmeki, we enjoy a last delicious Slovenian meal and say our good byes to the group. 



Thursday, September 4, 2014

View from the Pillion - Up the highest mountain and into the deepest valley

What can I say? These are the words in my journal "Wow, OMG, holy sh.t. What a day! Crazy?" That pretty much sums up how I feel after going  up the 2,100 metre high Mangart Mountain and through the Vršič pass today.
But first we stop at Kluze Fort. There has been a fort here since Roman times, but most recently this was the scene of clashes between Italians and Austrians in WW 1. It has proven to be pretty much impregnable over the centuries and now in more peaceful times, it houses a small museum. 
And then there is the Predel Pass and the precipitous ride up         Mangart Mountain. 

The road is wet and narrow, steep and twisty with no guard rail; scary stuff. I can't look down except for quick glances and then I catch a glimpse of the very long drop with a sheer cliff to a valley a long way below. We go up, up, up. The slow turns on slick corners are another form of scary. The very top is closed due to a slide, but in my opinion we're high enough, and the view is ....of absolutely nothing, just thick shifting fog. June and I admit to each other that we are scared stiff. Kathy seems impervious and snaps photos all the way. And then Dan decides we should see if the cafe is open and this means going up a very narrow steep track. But it's closed, and I know everyone finds the ride back down even more nerve-wracking.
I love the signs at the crossroads where one way points to Austria, another to Slovenia while we are presently in Italy. Along the way we have passed many groups of Harley riders and the town of Trevisio is filled with them. There are "Welcome Harley Davidson" banners draped on stores and restaurants. It turns out there is a big Harley meet-up just across the border in Austria. We park our BMW's and brave the Harley signs to enter for an early lunch. We have earned it. I have a small personal victory when, after so many years of trying to learn the language, I am able to order my meal in Italian, even though everyone here speaks perfect English.

The ride is not over yet and heading back to Bovec we encounter new challenges on the Vršič Pass.
At a park entrance in a wooded area we dismount. A five minute walk brings us to a curious turquoise blue pond. These are locally called "toomphs". They bubble up from underground springs and are rich in amphibious life. It's a nice peaceful break from the high stress of today's ride.
Following the Soca River, we come to Bovec and we all go our separate ways for the rest of the day. Before we left home I had done some research and discovered a place that advertised horse riding on Lipizzaner's. The hotel receptionist gives us directions.  Up the hill from the river, at the bottom of a wooded mountain, we find the Hotel village of Pristava Lepena.
The hotel is closed for the season but we are warmly welcomed and told to explore on our own.The horses roam free, the goats are penned, safely behind a solid fence. 
Guests who stay here can enrol in riding lessons and stay in charming cabins tucked in the woods. Another thing to add to my bucket list.
On the way back, we stop to enjoy close up views of the Soca River which has paralleled a lot of our journey in the past few days.

And since I don't get to ride a real horse on this trip, I have to be content with a nice rocking horse instead.





Wednesday, September 3, 2014

View from the Pillion - Corvara to Bovec

With the Triumph sidelined for the duration, we are given the BMW GS that Dan has been riding. He and his daughter take the smaller bike. It has been raining and the roads are wet. The low clouds still look threatening  so we all start the day wearing our rain gear. 
Peter is following behind Dan, still getting the feel of the bike as we head out of town and up our first mountain road at a fairly sedate pace. And then suddenly, the bike skids out on a corner and we're down. I land on the road, but in an instant I assess that I am fine. I watch Peter, still with the bike, sliding towards the looming wall of the mountain. It stops short of the rock face and Peter is up on his feet. Very quickly our fellow riders are beside us, checking that we're okay. John and Ross help Peter pick the bike up. Someone keeps an eye out for oncoming traffic and waves them down. All I can think of is the positive things - no one is hurt; we avoided hurtling over the cliff-edge or slamming into the rock face; there was no oncoming traffic; because this particular bike has an engine guard, there is no serious damage and it is still in good working order. There are some scrapes on the tail box and engine guard and  a few broken pieces of plastic from the front faring. Both of us have small tears in our rain gear and the leather has been completely scraped off the knuckle guard on my one glove. Well, that's why we wear safety gear.



Feeling a bit shaken, but in one piece, we get back on the horse, in a manner of speaking, and continue on route. I can sense that Peter is apprehensive and is taking it very cautiously, but after a coffee break, and with the sun out again, he soon gets his mojo back.


One of our stops today is the memorial and site of a terrible tragedy where in 1963 almost 2000 people died when a landslide  at the newly built Vajont Dam caused an unprecedented tsunami which swept downstream, destroying villages and wiping out almost a third of the population of the largest village, Langarone. It is a sombre visit making us all very thoughtful and speculative about nature and man's effect on it. In this case, warnings of geological instability of Monte Toc were not given proper consideration, with tragic results. The dam, which didn't suffer any damage, has been abandoned.


 

At the roadside restaurant where we stop for lunch, we have a perfect spectator view of a bicycle road race. The group of cyclists whiz past us, accompanied by a big contingent of support vans, security and police vehicles.

Continuing our journey, we travel up and down passes, through tunnels and along valleys and eventually we cross back into Slovenia and follow the lovely Soca River to the Hotel Mangart in Bovec.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

A day on my own - alone in the mountains

Today is another "rest day" and we all decide to do own thing and go our separate ways. Peter joins Primož today for a vigorous day of riding.............
and I choose to have a day on my own exploring the area on foot. The Tourist office in town is super helpful and I pick up some brochures, maps and walking guides. 
According to the "Easy Walks for Families" guide, the town of Colfosco/Colfosch is only 40 minutes away on a well-signed path. In this part of Italy, both Italian and German are spoken, a legacy of the time when the area was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. As a result many of the towns have names in both languages.

It's a lovely walk, winding along the footpath through the outskirts of Corvara. All around are magnificent mountains, green meadows and picturesque houses.
Signs point temptingly to paths heading up the mountainside, but I am not quite brave enough to head up one of those on my own.
Along the way stations of the cross and the occasional large crucifix mark the way. I have only been walking about 20 minutes when I come to a fork in the road. A friendly local points to the high road as the best route to Colfosco and within minutes I have reached a church, which has a commanding presence in the small town.
 
The church and surrounding cemetery have a peaceful aura which invites lingering and contemplation. The graves are well tended and anyone who rests in peace here is obviously well-cared for. So I linger, exploring the little chapels before heading to the commercial centre in search of a macchiato and directions to the gondola.
There are a couple of idle ski lifts at the centre of town but only one gondola operating at this time of year for hikers and tourists. A path leads out of town to the base and not knowing quite what to expect when I get to the top, I play it safe and buy a return ticket on the gondola up Col Pradat. 
To my surprise there is a very busy restaurant and plenty of customers enjoying the bright sunshine, which out of the wind, is bright and warming. Red deck chairs and sheep skin covered loungers are spread around welcoming anyone to relax and enjoy the ambience.
 
From this vantage point, the views are just another degree of magnificent. 

After a tramping in various directions in the meadows and along tops of ski runs around the lodge, I feel it's time to indulge in some of the local specialties; apfel strudel und hot chocolate mit rum. And fortified, I decide to brave the trek back down the mountain path, following the signs that point to Corvara.
The route is well marked so no chance of getting lost even when I venture off the trail to explore an abandoned cabin and scramble over rocks to examine wildflowers in crevices.
As I get closer to the bottom, with the town well in sight, I feel reluctant to end this journey so soon. A sense of profound tranquility washes over me; up here sitting on the side of the mountain, it's like being half way to heaven.
Way down in the valley I have an eagle's view of the road which happens to be where Peter is riding solo this afternoon.

When I get back to the hotel I hear the story of Tony the Tiger's unfortunate day. While riding with Peter, Primož noticed a drip coming from the bike. On further inspection, they decide it would be wise to head back and check it out more carefully. Unfortunately, Primož, who takes care of all the bikes while we're on the tour, realizes that it can't be fixed quickly. So he gives Peter the spare bike, which he has been riding, for an afternoon of solo riding. Peter enjoys the nippiness of the BMW F700 GS and does the 55 k loop programmed into the GPS.