Tag Archives: Boat

Travel Guide: Lake Bled, Lake Bohinj, Trieste, Maribor

After four days in three cities in Austria, a beautiful drive through mountains, rolling hills, wind, sunshine, and blue skies led the way to Slovenia. After two nights in Slovenia, I headed into Italy just because “Let’s drive to Italy today” seemed like a fun thing to do. One more night in Slovenia completed this part of the road trip.

Lake Bled

I cannot say enough good things about Slovenia. And I almost don’t want to say anything at all because part of the magic of Slovenia is that it was quiet, though this might also be because I was there in the winter. But anyway, there are a million good things to say about Slovenia. Go see for yourself!

For my first night in Slovenia I stayed in Lesce, a small town in the hills that was close to everywhere I wanted to be but away from the much more popular area of Bled. The quiet, calm solitude was startling (even after a night at a farmhouse in Leoben) and contributed to quiet and calm in my mind, too.

However, I’d heard of Lake Bled in the past and knew I wanted to see it. There’s a castle and a church at the lake and while I didn’t venture up, I know you can actually visit. Instead, I opted for the 6km walk around the lake, which began with afternoon sun . . .

. . . went through a Christmas market celebrating its final night . . .

. . . and ended in the evening’s gathering darkness, though not without a cup of hot wine along the way.

Walking back from dinner that night along a silent street, I noticed the stars. The sky was dark and the stars were bright and the air was cold and I stood outside and just looked. We don’t see often stars in Singapore and when we do, they don’t look like Slovenian stars.

The world of that night was very different to the world of the morning waking up on a farm in Austria.

Lake Bohinj

The next morning, giggling at how I planned to spend my thirtieth birthday playing outside, I drove past Lake Bled to Lake Bohinj. There was snow on the ground as the road descended into another glacial valley and I actually got out of the car to look at the world. It was the magical winter fairytale of childhood that I haven’t seen in a very long time.

Before finding a parking spot at Lake Bohinj that turned out to be illegal, I stopped to visit Slap Savica, the Savica Waterfall. The walk up itself was nice and easy and it was beautiful to look out at the Julian Alps while listening to the rushing water and feeling the cold.

A picnic lunch on a bench in the sun was in order before a walk around Lake Bohinj. Later that day, I’d pay my parking ticket (oops) at the post office. The light on the lake was stunning, as were the mountains surrounding it.

I walked through a sub-alpine meadow and looked down at the lake and up to the mountains and felt the cold and the wind and the air.

There were plants and trees and runoff from the snow creating little rivers and puddles.

Once the sun disappeared behind the ridge and then grew smaller and smaller, it was time to go. It gets bitterly cold at night in January in Slovenia.

The drive to Bohinjska Cesnjica where I spent the night went through narrow twisting roads and tiny towns containing wood and stone guesthouses and farms. Late that night with the weather well below freezing, I walked outside to look at stars. How had I gotten here? How did any of us get here?

Trieste

The next day taught me that I never again want to have a car in an Italian city. I decided to go to Trieste rather than Croatia or Hungary, both of which are relatively nearby, based on the fact that Italy is in the eurozone. I drove through the sunshine and the Alps, which was lovely, and then into a busy city with small cars and limited parking, which was far less lovely. My tip for parking a car in Trieste: Spend a few euro and park in the spacious and huge parking lot at the port. It was easy to find once I knew it existed and the parking machines take coins, notes, and cards.

At least at that time of year, it appeared that all shops and many other establishments closed in the afternoon from 1 or 1:30 until 4 or 4:30, and I arrived close to 1. I had every intention of going back in the evening when shops would be open until 7 or 7:30, but the guesthouse where I spent the night was up a ridiculously narrow, winding road on a hill about 8km outside of town. There was no way I was going down (or up) that road in the dark.

One thing that struck me about Trieste is that this city is old. The buildings were beautiful but they had been standing for a long, long time.

It was also really neat to see a stadium from Roman times next to a car park and an apartment block. I very much love that about Europe.

I also really loved the greengrocer set up in the middle of a piazza.

And of course, there were grand piazze that are probably much busier in the summer.

The history of Trieste’s Jewish community dates back about 800 years and I walked to the synagogue . . .

. . . and through the old Jewish ghetto that was full of (unfortunately closed) quirky shops selling antiquities and used books.

All things considered, a wander through parts of Trieste was a perfectly acceptable way to spend an afternoon before settling into the little guesthouse on the hill. Looking down on Trieste both at night and in the morning was really cool.

Maribor

After a day away, I decided I missed Slovenia. In the morning, I drove to Maribor, Slovenia’s second-largest city. It was a bright and sunny day and not too cold yet, which was perfect weather for a walk. I looked at a map and found Jezero (Lake) Komarnik, which has marked running and hiking trails.

Remaining aware of the sun and the time of day, I chose the shorter of the two paths and found myself first walking along a dike at the edge of a field . . .

. . . and then crunching leaves underfoot in a forest.

There were nature signs posted along the route with information about plants, animals, and ecosystems and even though I didn’t understand any of it, I really enjoyed that it was there. The way a community treats the environment tells a lot about what that community is and what it stands for.

Later in the afternoon I walked through Maribor City Park, which is exactly what it sounds like. A large park in the middle of a city with ponds, old trees, a bandstand, and a nature centre.

On the drive to the park, I spotted signs for Pyramid Hill. As the sun was beginning to set, I followed the walking trail up the hill . . .

. . . through the vineyard . . .

. . . and past the recent excavations of a twelfth century castle.

Signs along the way, including some in English, explained Pyramid Hill and Maribor City Park and it was nice to get a sense of where I was. There are longer walking trails along the back of Pyramid Hill but it was far too late in the afternoon for those.

Once it was dark, I headed into the old town to find the town square, have some wine, and feel European. It grew very cold as night came in but the narrow cobblestones felt good under my feet and I walked until the need to actually feel my toes became urgent.

It had been a wonderful few days and I knew I’d miss Slovenia even before it was time to leave. I spent the last evening curled up reading a novel and researching international schools. This had been a very special adventure and it left me excited for the next day’s journey to Bratislava.

15 Miles on the Erie Canal

If you grew up in upstate New York, you know the song I’m referring to in the title. My favorite version of this 1905 song by Thomas Allen is by the Dady Brothers, a local group best known for their Irish music. Whether you know the song or just want some appropriate background music for the post below, you can listen here. This particular song is the fifth track, “The Erie Canal Song,” and the second song in the sample. Enjoy and enjoy!

The rest of the album is great, too. We listened to it every single cruise when I worked on tour boats on the Erie Canal and Genesee River. These waterways created Rochester and its surrounding towns and villages, gave them life. However, Rochester has also suffered over time and that began when trains supplanted boats as the easiest way to ship goods. Have you ever wondered why the canal bridges are so low? (“Low bridge, everybody down, low bridge for we’re coming to a town!”) Because the train companies built them that way! You can’t stack goods on line boats (built for cargo) when going under low bridges.

Anyway, I’ve been fortunate in learning about the waterways here and spending so much time getting to know them. When I’m in Rochester for the summer I run on the canal several times a week and I’m captivated, every single time, by the world around me. For many years, I preferred a route from Pittsford village west to Lock 32 but this summer I fell in adoration with a route heading east from Pittsford towards Fairport. Because it’s beautiful I wanted to photograph it and share it with you. Please join me. I promise I won’t talk too much.

Views of a Run While Walking

My run begins a little ways outside the village but it’s the bridge I’m excited for. Instead of crossing the bridge (one of three in my immediate view) I follow the path underneath.

Hey look, my former “office”!

The Sam Patch is operated by Corn Hill Navigation. They’re a wonderful non-profit focused on educating people of all ages about the Erie Canal. (And they are my friends and former employers but not aware that I’m saying such nice things about them.)

I approach a cluster of abandoned buildings that have been abandoned for as long as anyone can remember. Imagine the stories they could tell!

The canal is lined with trees that lead the way . . .

. . . under a bridge . . .

. . . and onto a path that soon turns to gravel.

And then I’m overcome. There’s a breeze today and it’s brisk with traces of almost cool, the night burning off into a warm day. The air smells like morning and like sunshine. First I find the flowers, vines, and leaves.

Although I especially love the wildflowers . . .

. . . I’m almost reluctant to look anywhere except at the trees reflecting in the water masquerading as glass. The Erie Canal might be murky due to its natural bottom, but this is beautiful.

The people who live here have docks and I think of how nice it would be to watch the day dawn and the evening turn to night.

The light is dancing and as I look more closely, I smile at how dynamic the water actually is. A painting is before my eyes.

That’s more like it!

There are signs of life long past, too. This notice has been there for a very long time and the rules are still the rules . . .

. . . and this house was designed to fit into the landscape of farms and mule barns along the canal. After all, the mules had to rest!

There’s one more bridge I can photograph before my camera runs out of battery . . .

. . . and I can’t resist standing underneath it as cars cross overhead. How that scared me the first time!

Had I planned better I would have packed a snack, made coffee, pumped up the bicycle tires, and charged my camera. But I didn’t plan at all. Instead, I jumped out of bed with an idea and I ran with it. Sometimes it’s okay to do that.

Some years ago I wrote about how it feels to run along the Erie Canal in the morning. I can’t say it now better than I said it then, but now there are pictures to help tell the story. Thank you for spending this time with me.

Travel Guide: Wellington

After a weekend in Auckland and a few days on the road, my friend Sharon and I spent a couple nights in Wellington to conclude the North Island part of our trip to New Zealand. As in Auckland, the waterfront is a huge part of life in New Zealand’s capital.

We’d also read that we were supposed to check out Cuba Street, which is full of restaurants, shops, and bars.

It didn’t disappoint, but my favorite spot on the street by far was a used bookshop. I spent far too long in there one evening and, as always happens when I enter a used or independent bookstore, I bought a book. I justified it because it was a book of poems by a Kiwi poet. Not only do I not typically read poetry, but I’ve also never purposely read something by a Kiwi author. And now I have done both of those things!

We only had one full day in Wellington and we spent it, unsurprisingly, hiking and by the water. We climbed Mount Victoria, which was really just a hill. It provided beautiful views of the city . . .

. . . and the walk itself was lovely, as usual.

We passed charming gardens on our way back to the harbor . . .

. . . and then we saw the most wonderful idea! The library sponsors a book bike to ride around and let people take (to keep!) books for free. These are books that are out of date, like old travel guides, too worn to remain on shelves, or yet another donated copy of books the library already has. How wonderful!

Te Papa, New Zealand’s national museum, is located in Wellington and of course we went for a visit. It was fascinating to learn about the country’s history, particularly since we were somewhat familiar with Maori culture by this point. The history of native people and colonial settlers is much the same the world over and it’s painful everywhere. We also got really lucky at Te Papa because there was an exhibit on the Terracotta Army on view. I’d love to see the real site but Te Papa’s exhibit was amazing.

Another main attraction in Wellington is the cable car, which took us up the hills overlooking the harbor to the Botanic Gardens. The walk down through the gardens was calm and peaceful and the gardens ended in a cemetery as we returned to the city.

The following day, we took the Bluebridge Ferry from Wellington to Picton, the tiny town with the ferry terminal at the tip of the South Island. The ride was about three and a half hours and it was wonderful to stand outside and feel the wind and smell the water.

We sat next to a lovely older couple who told us about the geography of the Cook Strait and gave us suggestions of what to do with our South Island itinerary. Everyone we met, honestly everyone, was so friendly and helpful.

And then just like that, it was time to spend two weeks on the South Island!