August 9th, 2018, saw me flying into Trieste in Italy ready to begin my journey to Lake Bled in Slovenia. Bled has long been a destination that I have wanted to visit, having viewed it on TV so many times during rowing competitions.
After an early morning 2am flight from Abu Dhabi, with a stopover in Rome, I landed in Trieste around 10am. Having done my research on "The Man in Seat 61" website, I knew that I could catch trains all the way from Trieste up to Bled. So my journey begins...
First up was grabbing a train ticket to get me to the Slovenia border. The ticket machines were easy to use however they didn't take cash. An anxious moment occured while I waited to see if my credit card would work for the princely sum of 3,30 euro. {Currency in this post is all Euro} Relief flowed through me as I removed the ticket from the machine. Having a while before the train left I grabbed some lunch from a cafe upstairs at the airport to take with me then I wandered over the new overhead walkway to the lovely new train station attached to the airport. The vicinity appeared to be a sleepy vineyard town - reminding me of Blenheim both while landing and once on the ground.
In Italy, train tickets need to be validated before boarding at the risk of heavy fines. I knew this but was unable to validate my ticket consequently the train pulled out while I'm trying to open the door to get on. I get some help from a man sitting on the platform to validate the ticket and wait another hour for the next train. It's stinking hot so I wander back to the airport for a drink. Once the train arrives, myself and another younger guy attempt to get on but the doors we are at won't open. We hurriedly run to another carriage and jump on as the train starts to move. Whew! All the while I am still unsure if I am getting on the correct train as there is no signage either at the station or on the train itself.
First stop Monflcone where I need to change trains. While I have my timetable printed I verify in a wee shop at the station which platform my train leaves from. Platform 1. I wait and a flash train arrives so I ask others and we check the map and the train appears to be going in the right direction so I jump on, still unsure but not willing to miss a second train. The train is very full with lots of luggage and I finally find a seat and sit down relaxing. Only to see that the next stop is Trieste Airporte which is where I just came from. Oops! I jump off at the airport to the amusement of the same man who has been at the station since I missed the first train. Next train is hours away and I have a connection to catch so I hurry down to the bus stop just in time to buy a ticket for another 3,30 and get on a bus to Gorizia. What a fiasco! Finally I can relax.
The drive to Gorizia is delightful. Families are swimming in river; outdoor cafes; colourful shuttered houses; parks; leafy towns; everyone smoking; old & new houses; rural; fields of sunflowers; hay; olives; grapes laden with dark purple fruit; chimneys like little bird houses; turrets on houses. Gorizia is absolutely stunning with amazing buildings. I wondered about the history of the town and the following excerpt explains some of it.
The following information is taken from https://www.britannica.com/place/Gorizia
Gorizia, German Görz, Slovene Gorica, town, Friuli–Venezia Giulia regione, northeastern Italy, on the Isonzo River north of Trieste. From the 11th century Gorizia was the seat of the independent county of Gorizia until it passed to Austria in 1500. A noted cultural centre under Austrian rule, it was the capital of the Habsburg crownland of Görz-Gradisca after 1815. The area, especially around Monte San Michele (899 feet [274 m]) to the southwest, was the scene of heavy fighting between the Austrians and the Italians during World War I, and the town, much damaged, was annexed by Italy in 1919. By treaty in 1947 Yugoslavia received the northern outskirts of the town, and the adjoining Yugoslav town of Nova Gorica was developed.
Once in Gorizia I catch the #1 bus for 1,25 to across the road from the Railway station which is amazing.
Once inside you are in Nova Gorica, Slovenia so I buy a ticket for the train to Bled Jezero station for 6,59. With time to kill I opt for a Corona on the platform but feel like 'ladies' don't really do this as it's just me and a few men drinking and smoking. What can I say? I'm a kiwi.
When the graffiti covered railcar pulls up I'm sure it is the old Silver Fern. The inside and seats remind me of sitting in it. Once inside I enjoy a picnic of tomato and mozzarella sandwich and a muffin from Trieste washed down by my beer. A few strange looks occur but I don't care.
The track runs alongside the beautiful aquamarine Soca river that reminds me of Pelorus. The trip is like going through the Manawatu Gorge but for the colour of the water. Unfortunately trees obscure most of the river views. At one stage we are in the darkness of 6 kilometre Bohinj Tunnel under the Julian Alps. As the journey progresses it reminds me more of Marlborough summers with cars parked everywhere on dirt tracks with kids and families swimming in smaller rivers.
The scenery is very alpine with homes featuring geranium window boxes.
Vege gardens grow everywhere, even at railway stations.
The beer, food, heat and constant movement takes control and I am so tired I can't keep my eyes open.
Descending from the station to Lake Bled it appears there are thousands of people in the lake. Little do I know that I am arriving at Bled on the hottest day they have had, 34 degrees. It is quite a walk (45 minutes) from the station around the lake to my accomodation at Union Pension. I have difficulty finding it and I am getting some strange looks as I lug my small 7kg case and backback through the steep streets. When I arrive at the hotel I realise that I am beet red and sweating as if I have run a marathon. A shower never felt so good.
I opt for dinner downstairs at the restaurant attached to the accomodation as I just want to sleep. I order trout with potatoes and spinach. A whole baked trout duly arrives with enough vegetables to feed a family. A house white wine and lemon sorbet finish the meal and I head up to my spartan room to sleep.
After an early morning 2am flight from Abu Dhabi, with a stopover in Rome, I landed in Trieste around 10am. Having done my research on "The Man in Seat 61" website, I knew that I could catch trains all the way from Trieste up to Bled. So my journey begins...
First up was grabbing a train ticket to get me to the Slovenia border. The ticket machines were easy to use however they didn't take cash. An anxious moment occured while I waited to see if my credit card would work for the princely sum of 3,30 euro. {Currency in this post is all Euro} Relief flowed through me as I removed the ticket from the machine. Having a while before the train left I grabbed some lunch from a cafe upstairs at the airport to take with me then I wandered over the new overhead walkway to the lovely new train station attached to the airport. The vicinity appeared to be a sleepy vineyard town - reminding me of Blenheim both while landing and once on the ground.
In Italy, train tickets need to be validated before boarding at the risk of heavy fines. I knew this but was unable to validate my ticket consequently the train pulled out while I'm trying to open the door to get on. I get some help from a man sitting on the platform to validate the ticket and wait another hour for the next train. It's stinking hot so I wander back to the airport for a drink. Once the train arrives, myself and another younger guy attempt to get on but the doors we are at won't open. We hurriedly run to another carriage and jump on as the train starts to move. Whew! All the while I am still unsure if I am getting on the correct train as there is no signage either at the station or on the train itself.
First stop Monflcone where I need to change trains. While I have my timetable printed I verify in a wee shop at the station which platform my train leaves from. Platform 1. I wait and a flash train arrives so I ask others and we check the map and the train appears to be going in the right direction so I jump on, still unsure but not willing to miss a second train. The train is very full with lots of luggage and I finally find a seat and sit down relaxing. Only to see that the next stop is Trieste Airporte which is where I just came from. Oops! I jump off at the airport to the amusement of the same man who has been at the station since I missed the first train. Next train is hours away and I have a connection to catch so I hurry down to the bus stop just in time to buy a ticket for another 3,30 and get on a bus to Gorizia. What a fiasco! Finally I can relax.
The drive to Gorizia is delightful. Families are swimming in river; outdoor cafes; colourful shuttered houses; parks; leafy towns; everyone smoking; old & new houses; rural; fields of sunflowers; hay; olives; grapes laden with dark purple fruit; chimneys like little bird houses; turrets on houses. Gorizia is absolutely stunning with amazing buildings. I wondered about the history of the town and the following excerpt explains some of it.The following information is taken from https://www.britannica.com/place/Gorizia
Gorizia, German Görz, Slovene Gorica, town, Friuli–Venezia Giulia regione, northeastern Italy, on the Isonzo River north of Trieste. From the 11th century Gorizia was the seat of the independent county of Gorizia until it passed to Austria in 1500. A noted cultural centre under Austrian rule, it was the capital of the Habsburg crownland of Görz-Gradisca after 1815. The area, especially around Monte San Michele (899 feet [274 m]) to the southwest, was the scene of heavy fighting between the Austrians and the Italians during World War I, and the town, much damaged, was annexed by Italy in 1919. By treaty in 1947 Yugoslavia received the northern outskirts of the town, and the adjoining Yugoslav town of Nova Gorica was developed.
Once in Gorizia I catch the #1 bus for 1,25 to across the road from the Railway station which is amazing.
Once inside you are in Nova Gorica, Slovenia so I buy a ticket for the train to Bled Jezero station for 6,59. With time to kill I opt for a Corona on the platform but feel like 'ladies' don't really do this as it's just me and a few men drinking and smoking. What can I say? I'm a kiwi.
When the graffiti covered railcar pulls up I'm sure it is the old Silver Fern. The inside and seats remind me of sitting in it. Once inside I enjoy a picnic of tomato and mozzarella sandwich and a muffin from Trieste washed down by my beer. A few strange looks occur but I don't care.
The scenery is very alpine with homes featuring geranium window boxes.
Vege gardens grow everywhere, even at railway stations.
Descending from the station to Lake Bled it appears there are thousands of people in the lake. Little do I know that I am arriving at Bled on the hottest day they have had, 34 degrees. It is quite a walk (45 minutes) from the station around the lake to my accomodation at Union Pension. I have difficulty finding it and I am getting some strange looks as I lug my small 7kg case and backback through the steep streets. When I arrive at the hotel I realise that I am beet red and sweating as if I have run a marathon. A shower never felt so good.
Great reading about your trip sister
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