Transit to Portoroz (August 17 2012)
Ralph again. After breakfast, we caught the 11:50am train from Lesce back to Ljubljana. Nearly all rail transit from one region of Slovenia to another requires a stop in the centrally-located capital; this is at worst a minor inconvenience due to the country’s small size. We had purchased second-class tickets in the Lesce train station, and thought we were sitting in a second-class compartment on the train. Indeed, the conductor stamped our ticket and continued on with no issue. Later in the same 45-minute train ride, a second conductor came by, looked at our ticket, and angrily began shouting at us in Slovenian. Clearly he thought we were not supposed to be sitting there, even though we were alone in the compartment. Turns out, we were in first class, and this was unforgivable; we needed to move to the identical, yet second-class, end of the same railway car. The original conductor (who spoke a little English) chanced upon us and spoke to the second conductor. When the second conductor moved on, the original conductor gave a “sorry it didn’t work out” shrug. We picked up our bags and moved about fifty feet down the railcar to the equally-deserted plebian [yet identical] second-class compartments.
When I researched our transportation options I found that Portoroz, our destination on the Slovenian coast, does not have direct rail service; the closest rail station is about 9 miles away and would necessitate a local bus to our final destination. As such, I decided we would take a tour bus from Ljubljana straight to Portoroz to avoid another transit changeover. The bus station in Ljubljana is conveniently located across the street from the train station, and thirty minutes after arriving in Ljubljana we were on a tour bus to the coast.
Slovenia’s Adriatic coast is minimal, only about fifteen miles long, and is heavily influenced by Italian culture both because of its proximity (Trieste, Italy is only a half-hour drive away) and also because it was once part of the kingdom of Venice. No legends of mountain goats here; just a lot of pizza and casinos designed to lure Italians across the border (apparently, casinos are illegal in Italy. There sure were a lot of Italian-plated cars all over Portoroz, maybe more than Slovenian-plated cars.)
When researching hotels on the Slovenian coast, there was only hotel that was reasonably priced and did not appear to be located within a shipyard. The hotel website promised ocean views which, we soon discovered, is only possible one of two ways: 1) being located on the ocean or 2) being located well above the ocean level. Our hotel was about a half-mile inland, so case #2 applied. The land rises sharply from the coast, and we walked UP UP UP some impossibly steep hills, luggage in tow, attempting to interpret the Google Maps on the iPad. [The hills were so steep that the road we later primarily used to get back to the hotel had steps alongside it. They were regulation height and maybe 3-4 inches deeper than typical home stairs.]
After a half hour, we came to the location where Google Maps placed our hotel – but nothing. With both Lynnae and I drenched in sweat from the broiling Adriatic sun, we set down our luggage and I went on a personal expedition to find our hotel. Indeed, Google Maps was wrong; but only by a little. We walked a few minutes down a (mostly flat) road and checked into our hotel.
And it didn’t lie about the ocean views! The room had a wraparound balcony, with grapevines growing along the railing. While the hotel did not offer breakfast, its grapevines did supplement our daily fruit requirements.
View from our balcony
Upon arriving at the hotel we decided to spend a little time recovering from the haul uphill. After researching our dinner options we ate at what Tripadvisor called “the best Mexican restaurant in Portoroz, Slovenia,” which, we must say, was better than a whole lot of Mexican restaurants in the US. After buying a few breakfast food staples at a convenience store (sadly, it was late and the Mercator was closed) we took an unencumbered walk back uphill and called it a night.
Our Random Travels 