Week 3: Slovenia Part A
Tuesday, October 30th, 2007When I first arrived in Slovenia, I was unimpressed and growing more pissed off by the minute. I didn’t know where my hostel was, I didn’t know what bus to take and I couldn’t find a taxi. I finally did find a taxi in an obscure place outside the train station, and after some consultation with the other taxi drivers standing around having a cigarette, he figured out where to go. He spoke no English, Spanish or Italian, immediately exhausting my language possibilities. But he got me to my hostel for 5Euros on the meter, and three flights of spiraling stairs later, I was happy to put down my bag at Fluxus Hostel.
The following morning I was not happy. I was homesick, lonely, I desperately wanted to go home; I even started searching flights out of Ljubljana. It wasn’t the city itself, or the people. I actually really liked the city, and so far the people had been friendly. It was a walk I took up the hill to the castle under a shower of yellow leaves that triggered it. Where was the dog that was supposed to be yanking at my arm as I climbed the hill? Weeks of hiking the mountains in Maryland with my mutt, I was alone with an empty feeling in my stomach and a lightness on my arm. I was done traveling alone. I still am. As I sat and watched the dachshunds and terriers stroll by, I realized how much I love my friends and family, how attached I am to them, and how I can’t and don’t want to travel alone anymore. Of course, this is by no means the end of the travel junkie, it’s just the end of the sola travel junkie. From now on, I’m traveling with a purpose, to visit the people I love, to travel with the people I love, to work, to study, to live.
Well, one of the three Danish Michaels I know, called me at the hostel and that took care of my homesickness. Damn it, I was going to enjoy the last sola trip if it killed me! So the next morning I went to the information office and booked two tours to visit the rest of the country that weekend and then headed off to have lunch. As I sat at the window of Julian, eating my ravioli, I watched a group of boys drinking cokes outside. They were probably in their late teens and whenever the waitress wasn’t looking they would give her a quick up and down at the most crucial points, and quickly meet her eyes when she turned around. Smooth. I had to laugh and wonder how often that happens to me as one boy’s eyes followed her rear end as she carried an empty plate back inside.
And then my eyes noticed a familiar face, and I sat with my fork in the air long enough to have these thoughts… I know him. Wait a minute. Something’s weird. Oh, right, I’m not at home. So, how do I know him. Oh my god, is this someone from school in Slovenia? Who is he? What’s his name? Who’s that with him? I know that girl. Oooh, I know who he is. He’s the guy from the hostel in Zagreb! So should I run out to meet them? Wait, no, the waitress might think I’m running off without paying. Ok, I could leave my bag here, but what if it gets stolen? It won’t get stolen. Alright, I’ll leave it here and tell the waitress I’m running out to catch them, could she watch my bag…. so finally I put down my fork.
I had to run to catch up, because you might imagine with that many thoughts they had walked pretty far. So here I was running up a cobble street in Ljubljana wondering, wait, what are their names?, waving my hands and ultimately shouting Whales! to get their attention. As you can imagine, they were from Whales. So we made plans to meet at the triple bridge at 8:30…
to be continued.
Drea