Нашр шудааст: 17.03.2021
Thursday morning gave me some astonishing difficulties and a feeling of anxiety for about 20 minutes during my ultimately successful attempt to pick up the rental car I had reserved in advance from the Koper station. It was thanks to the responsible and dedicated efforts of the young gentleman Erik R., who works for the car rental agency and not only speaks the local language but also speaks fluent Italian and very proficient English, that I was able to successfully complete my mission. Taking possession of the reserved rental car after my credit card unexpectedly gave me some trouble. Deposit was the magic word that I had not expected and it left me feeling quite dumbfounded. Not only because it exceeded the ridiculously narrow scope of my English vocabulary, but also because it exceeded my credit card's monthly limit. After consulting with the head office in Ljubljana over the phone and taking on some responsibility myself, Mr. Erik R. then lowered the amount of the deposit to a level that was acceptable to my credit limit. . . - And so my journey through the Karst began.
The first stop on this eagerly anticipated trip was the Romanesque fortress church of Hrastovlje, which is very impressive with its medieval frescoes. To unlock the church, one had to dial a phone number displayed there, and an older lady from the village, which has a population of only 150, would come and open the church. However, a couple from France who were waiting in front of the church had already made that call for me minutes before I arrived.
Štanjel, a little over an hour later, was the highlight of my trip. I was incredibly captivated by this unique village situated on a hill, the striking backdrop of which I had already seen in a photo book about steam locomotives in former Yugoslavia. In a photo from 1960, you can see a train in the nearby station with the picturesque village towering above it. It was scorching hot at noon and unfortunately I had left my water bottle in the parked car. Nevertheless, I walked through this bizarre and almost ghostly village for over an hour, and I was fascinated and irresistibly drawn to the rocket-shaped spire of the church. When I returned to my parked car in the blazing midday sun, the water in my plastic bottle, I believe, had begun to simmer.
Predjama Castle, the photogenic cliff-top castle of Predjama, was the final stop on this journey through the Karst. However, I only stayed there briefly to take a few photos without visiting the castle itself. My interest on this afternoon was much more focused on a nearby inn, where I could replenish my depleting personal liquid reserves with lemonade, have the obligatory afternoon espresso, and order a traditional Slovenian Gibanica.