As the train from Zagreb finally arrived, one hour later than scheduled, I grew to understand that patience by its very virtue is an empathy of the circumstances. In Croatia as a weekend tripper at the back of a rather intense 2 months of all-work-and-no-play, I was raring to cure my travel bug. The delay didn’t boil very well in me.
When the train finally stopped, I hopped onto the very first empty cabin I came across, joined by a backpacking Australian lady whom I shared some conversation with. I was on route for a 2.5 hours train to Ljubljana, capital of Slovenia, and whose name I still can’t spell without the help of google (and thus the title).
The only city in Slovenia was worth the trouble for. Compact, interesting and as a new descriptive term for locations I learnt from this Australian stranger, very cute!
My accommodation for the night was Hostel Celica, a place recommended by a colleague, and which I subsequently understood to be rather famous (there were street signs to it). As an ex-prison, the hostel offered too pleasant a sleep to be a true experience of what it is like to spent a night behind bars. Nonetheless, it was still quite cool to have slept in the same cells as a certain ‘Aisling O’beirn’ and ‘Franc Purg’, whose names were inscribed on the cell wall (and whose crimes I hope weren’t too terrible!).
Hostel Celica was located right at the Metelkova street, an area of ‘alternative living’, the graffiti on the colourful buildings quite telling.
The rest of the city offers visitors a very pleasant unhurried stroll. The beautiful baroque buildings lends its colours to the well preserved old town; while streets, as well as life, seemingly converging at the center of the city. The elegant triple bridge with the gloriously pink cathedral as its backdrop, criss-crossing the calm green river is where the pulse of Ljubljana beats the strongest. It is also the most photographed spot. Rightly so!