Food. Food was a big part of our trip. Forget the apples of RyanAir game, here I am talking about the best of the best of the best of Balkan cuisine, well kept secrets of the bakeries, dairy hitchikers of croatian roads, home destilled spirits, and so many and more we were so lucky to come accross. It traveled with us, through the views from Bled Castle, all the levels of Plitvice lakes, serpentines of Prokletije all the way to Nikola Tesla Airport for Jenny and me, that is Trieste for Spela.
We were well fed, yes.
But food is nothing without the hosts. Yes, it will fill you up but if it was sprinkled with love and served with the few drops of effort it will fill your soul as well.
Our souls were full most of the days.
And it all started with the welcoming...snack? no I am not calling that snack. It is an offense to Spela's parents who greeted us just by the airport with boxes of French (or, Russian, depends who do you ask) salad, mini sandwiches, local drinks Spela and me grew up with and the organic strawberries for desert we had in a car on the way to Ljubljana.
No adventure could have started better:
Strawberries had no time for photoshoot- they quickly dissapeared on the way to Ljubljana where, after a mini break we had a 'proper' meal:
Which didn't last too long, either:
But the Godec's family hospitality did not finish with that. Oh no, it just started. Not only they lended us their car and GPS, extra towels, blankets and camping equipment, but they were happy to share with us tips and tricks. As experienced travelers themselves, they have seen and drove the roads we were about to roll on. So, the map of the Balkans was spread in the living room and the consultations begun:
After we had the tips, tricks and advices, we could do nothing but go to bed. In proper pajamas. I opted for Granny pajama while Jenny and Spela went for the sleeping shirts. I still think my pajama rocks. I'm still sure both of them disagree. You judge for yourself:
sleeping shirts united.
We drifted to sleep in the apartment block of Ljubljana, with a view of the Castle on the horizon. We drifted to sleep in the rooms of medals. We drifted to sleep, making sure we remember the dreams.
For we were just about to make one come true.
We were well fed, yes.
But food is nothing without the hosts. Yes, it will fill you up but if it was sprinkled with love and served with the few drops of effort it will fill your soul as well.
Our souls were full most of the days.
And it all started with the welcoming...snack? no I am not calling that snack. It is an offense to Spela's parents who greeted us just by the airport with boxes of French (or, Russian, depends who do you ask) salad, mini sandwiches, local drinks Spela and me grew up with and the organic strawberries for desert we had in a car on the way to Ljubljana.
No adventure could have started better:
[amazing welcome by Spela's Dad]
[amazement by Jenny and me]
Strawberries had no time for photoshoot- they quickly dissapeared on the way to Ljubljana where, after a mini break we had a 'proper' meal:
[mind the meat.... awww, mind the meat....]
[cheese was nice as well]
Which didn't last too long, either:
[some 10 minutes after]
But the Godec's family hospitality did not finish with that. Oh no, it just started. Not only they lended us their car and GPS, extra towels, blankets and camping equipment, but they were happy to share with us tips and tricks. As experienced travelers themselves, they have seen and drove the roads we were about to roll on. So, the map of the Balkans was spread in the living room and the consultations begun:
After we had the tips, tricks and advices, we could do nothing but go to bed. In proper pajamas. I opted for Granny pajama while Jenny and Spela went for the sleeping shirts. I still think my pajama rocks. I'm still sure both of them disagree. You judge for yourself:
proper pajama vs sleeping shirt
sleeping shirts united.For we were just about to make one come true.
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