Living day by day - 13th/14th July.

We had promised Ida Meer, but after seeing the traffic jams at the Croatian border, we decided to put the plan to drive to Rijeka on hold for now. But never mind; Let's go to the Slovenian coast instead, which may not be very long but is said to be just as beautiful as the Croatian coast. We headed north without really informing ourselves or comparing much.

Since Ida doesn't remember any of the previous visits to the Mediterranean anyway, it doesn't matter to her which beach we go to.

Although it's 31 degrees, it's cloudy and drizzling from time to time. We hope that the normal sun worshipper will think twice today before putting on a bikini. Nevertheless, the beach parking is completely full, but thankfully, the water is not crowded, um, it's blurry, so we don't feel uncomfortable and we can keep a sufficient distance. Somehow, Corona is always on our minds.

The water is wonderful! It may not have bathtub temperature, but after the Soča, everything is pleasantly warm.

Thanks to the swimming session with Grandpa Manfred in Frankfurt, Ida did a great job staying above water and couldn't hop with Lars enough. It bothers me immensely that we couldn't capture her expression: something between a cat in front of a cream pot and childish birthday joy. A deep satisfaction that was absolutely worth every effort and every kilometer here. Balm for the soul.

Accordingly, it takes a few attempts to convince her that every fun eventually comes to an end. Before we grow fins, we wanted to go to Piran.

Big mistake! We should have planned more sensibly and further in advance. Well, Lars had hinted at something like that, but didn't pursue the thought any further: Piran is so beautiful that you don't need to visit any other town on the coast afterwards.

With many Italian influences, narrow streets, pine trees and blooming oleander, small local restaurants, and colorful facades with peeling paint, it is so typically Mediterranean that it almost drives you crazy.

The entire city center is car-free (although unfortunately, that meant we had a long walk ahead of us, but it makes the place even more attractive). However, scooters are allowed to whizz through the streets. Of course! Italy is not far away.

The promenade is crowded with restaurants, but the terrible souvenir shops are nowhere to be found. Instead, while waiting for the food, you can easily jump into the clear and clean water (otherwise, you usually see foam and plastic mountains in the city area). The Slovenes make use of every inch of their short coast.

Overall, it is not very crowded here either. Maybe it's because of the corona season, maybe it's because Slovenia isn't as overrun by tourists yet. We don't know, but we enjoy it as we walk around aimlessly and explore lonely streets. Without a sense of direction, you are absolutely lost. We have never come across such winding streets before, and we are amazed that they managed to squeeze in some outdoor dining areas in alleys that are no wider than two meters.

Originally, we planned to wait for the sunset, but our feet are tired, the bed is calling, and we decide to make our way home.

If Izola, Portorož, or Koper can't compete with Piran, then let's go to Trieste. We have heard from so many sources that the Italian port city is a gem on the Adriatic coast and has the best coffee houses by far. Not that we, as instant coffee drinkers, can actually judge that, but we are still looking forward to some good espressos and a bit of La Dolce Vita flair. Convincing Ida was easy: Italy, as the home of pizza and ice cream, is a clear yes.

As luck would have it, I picked up Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert from the shelf as my holiday reading, in which the author describes her journey through the world and to herself. In Italy, she seeks and finds happiness through indulgence and describes in detail the Italian mentality. Living day by day, indulging in small pleasures at every corner, taking a break when it feels good, and sometimes letting work just be work. Sounds wonderful, even if it contradicts every syllable of our German upbringing:

Living day by day means wasting time, eating everywhere leads to overweight, breaks are taken when everything is done, and no pain, no gain.

Which way is the better way to live your life in the long run is a matter of debate. We don't want to comment on that, but we also cannot claim that the Italian way of life has rubbed off on us. We made an effort to culturally adapt. We set off without a schedule. After all, we are on vacation and absolutely relaxed. Nothing can stress us out. Isn't that true?

In the city, Lars had to concentrate hard not to knock down one of the many scooter riders who appear out of nowhere and overtake on both sides with a lot of noise and daredevilry. The first drop of sweat on his forehead. In the parking garage, we had to fight for the last free parking space. We lost the fight against an Austrian and patiently waited until someone else left. You can imagine it: with a red face and the second drop of sweat on our faces. But because we didn't want to rush, we spent a lot of time in a store with many red price tags, equipping Ida for school (she refuses to wear jeans, and we think that the time for tights and leggings is over). Every time we picked up an item, the saleswoman (consistently in Italian) asked if she could put it at the checkout and seemed a little regretful that we couldn't make a decision. Strange. Yet we bought quite a lot. You would have thought that instead of pressuring us, she would have brought us more items. A few minutes later, we would find out what the problem was. Lunch break time. Even the pizzerias close between 3:00 pm and 7:00 pm. Oh no! In a hurry and now sweating even more, we made it to a table at 2:30 pm, just looked up which pretty Italian word describes which delicious topping, and were then told that we couldn't get pizza anymore. The break is important after all. Apparently more important than making sales. With puppy eyes, we managed to borrow two pizzas to go from the landlord, which we enjoyed even more directly at the harbor from the box. There you go! No one is stressing us out (except for the seagull with a vulture look).

We are satisfied and have gained two insights.

First: Italy really has the best pizza! It's worth the rush (and burning a few calories, just in case). And secondly: Living day by day is not for us. We are just too German. And that is exactly fine for us.