It feels a little odd to be in a ski resort out of season (particularly as I’m in Slovenia and wasn’t aware before now that you could ski here!) but here I am, none-the-less, boarding the Vogel cable car to whisk me 1,540 metres up to 22 miles of summer, snowless ski runs.
The big draw in warm weather is the jaw-dropping views of Lake Bohinj, most likely the most beautiful lake in Europe you’ve never heard of. Overshadowed by Lake Bled, the pin-up for tourism to Slovenia, which lies some 16 miles away, Lake Bohinj is perhaps even more a gem because of its peace and quiet.
Once at the top, I gaze down on deep clear water, wild camping sites dotted within the forest, with a backdrop of the Julian Alps — but the beauty of this region is just one more surprise in a country that’s full of them.
After barely three days in Slovenia, I already feel healthier and wonderfully relaxed. This is a nation of hikers, wild swimmers, canoeists, and foragers, and even the capital Ljubljana has the atmosphere of a country park, covered as it is with green spaces — 46 per cent is native forest, with a total of 75 per cent of green overall.
As the city centre has been car-free since 2012, the air feels like nothing I’ve ever inhaled in an urban environment. For another bird’s eye view, I hike the 375-metre hill to Ljubljana Castle on foot, rather than taking the funicular, as the path is leafy green and winds gently.
The castle itself dates from the 16th century, while highlights include the Chapel of St George (dating earlier, from 1489) for its terracotta and blue-hued frescoes, and the watchtower next door. Here, from the rooftop balcony — reached by 95 steps up a spiralling wrought-iron staircase — I take in the Slovenian capital’s full grandeur, gazing out across red-roofed houses, church spires, and cobbled streets that stretch to the Ljubljanica river.
The city is compact, and two days is ample time to explore. The joy here is that there aren’t major tourist sites to tick off, although the Old Town is packed with attractive heritage buildings. The town hall is one of these, rebuilt in 1718, with an arcaded Gothic courtyard, but throughout the entire city you’ll find the extraordinary work of local architect Joze Plecnik, who, in 1921, set about creating the perfect city by adding architectural interest to what was already built.
One of his triumphs is the Triple Bridge which he topped with balustrades and lamps, before adding two more pedestrian-only bridges. The walkways along the river, which he planted with chestnut trees, were added to improve the health of city-dwellers, and his architecture and thoughtful town-planning were added to the Unesco World Heritage List in 2021.
Not to be missed, there’s an access-all-areas tour of the National & University Library on Saturdays, considered his greatest work. I enter to the grand black marble foyer, and continue up a colonnaded staircase, to the main attraction — the wood-panelled temple-like Reading Room with its circular Art Noveau chandeliers and beautiful desk lamps (lucky students that study in such inspiring surroundings).
The river is the lifeblood of the city, flanked by lively restaurants and bars with views to Plecnik’s bridges, floodlight in luminescent green after dark. The cobbled Old Town, located just behind the eastern bank, enjoys a quieter scene come evening (last orders are called by 11pm to respect the residents).
Three long squares — Mestni, Stari, and Gornji — all lead into one another, lined with impressive Baroque mansions; I favour Stari for the atmospheric Belle Epoque Slascicarna Café, with its faded, peeling, yellow masonry, exquisite mouldings, and original wooden counters, where I sit happily daily with a coffee and potica, a rolled sponge cake filled with plum compote.
In keeping with Ljubljana’s green credentials (it won the accolade of Europe’s Green Capital for its high environmental standards in 2016), I take a 50-minute e-boat river cruise with Ljubljana Barka on a wooden e-boat boat of traditional design.
Once we’ve sailed under Dragon Bridge (an Art Noveau beauty, guarded by four fierce looking dragons on each corner), and Cobbler’s Bridge (where shoemakers traded in the Middle Ages to avoid paying taxes), we’re soon into a more rural scene. Despite still being within the city limits, grebe dive for fish, butterflies play hide and seek within the reeds and bullrushes, and locals sprawl, picnicking on sloping grassy banks.
The city’s largest green space, Tivoli Park, spreads across 55-hectares and is lovely to explore by bike (either electric or push), which can be picked up at the BicikeLJ sharing points, dotted all over the city.
Lake Bled lies around 35 miles to the west of Ljubljana and with a love for wild swimming, I can’t wait to jump into its emerald-green waters, whose temperature hovers (thanks to thermal springs) at around 20 degrees year-round. The lake and town live up to the tourist board hype with an impressive 16th century castle perched high on a rocky outcrop, illuminated in orange light by night, and the Church of the Assumption sitting on tiny Bled Island like a drawing from a fairytale book.
No visitor should miss rowing out here to ring the wishing bell, which hangs from a rope before the altar and after three short tugs sounds satisfyingly out across the water. Those not handy with an oar can hop on large, shared punts, prettily covered in striped awnings, and be rowed out gondolier-style.
My days here fall into a happy pattern, beginning with walking the lake’s four-mile perimeter before breakfast (spotting mute swans, cormorant, and yellow-legged gull as I go), stopping for an early morning coffee at Café Bar Club Zaka, next to the Olympic rowing training centre, before heading out for a few hours of adventure.
Close to Lake Bohinj, I hike from the hamlet of Ukanc through a forest of common beech to the magnificent Savica Waterfall in Triglav National Park; another day I visit the Vintgar Gorge (three miles out of town) to walk the 1,600-metre wooden walkway that was first constructed in 1893. Now rebuilt, it’s bolted safely to the rock face, taking me above the icy, menthol-hued rushing river, full of small whirling rapids, to the 16-metre-high Suma Waterfall.
The return route is through countryside awash with small farms and prettily painted wooden beehives — for every 1000 Slovenians, you’ll discover five beekeepers. An hour from Bled, I drive the Vrsic Pass, a spectacular road with 50 heart-quickening bends through the Julian Alps, occasionally slowed by feral goats.
At around 1,100 metres up, you come to a beautiful, tiny, wooden Russian Orthodox Chapel, which marks the spot where 300 Russian prisoners of war died in an avalanche in 1916. The pass is still so treacherous, it’s closed from November to end of April.
The tiny, wooden Russian Orthodox Chapel marks the spot where 300 Russian prisoners of war died in an avalanche in 1916
On my final evening, I catch a taxi to the castle to dine with dizzying lake views — those with a fear of heights may wish to book a table away from the floor-to-ceiling window — at the fine-dining Bled Castle Restaurant. Its four-course tasting menu has excellent vegetarian options alongside local fish; try the spinach gnocchi in a carrot cream.
After dinner, I make my way back to the lake via a zigzag of pretty, well-lit gardens to the more casual terrace of Café Park for tea with local honey. On the riverbanks, fishermen sit like ducks in a row, causing gentle ripples on the lake’s inky black surface as they cast their lines under a crescent moon.
As one last peal from the bells of the Church of the Assumption sounds out across the lake, I’m gently reminded it’s time for bed — and for me to tear myself away from this enticing scene.
Getting There
Flights from Gatwick to Ljubljana cost from around £54 return with EasyJet.
Doubles at Hotel April 1550 in Ljubljana cost from around £110 per night B&B. april1550.com
Doubles at Grand Hotel Toplice at Lake Bled cost from around £190 per night. sava-hotels-resorts.com
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