Learning the Language

After a late, swelteringly hot 8-hour train ride some nights ago from Budapest, a very kind couple drove me to the rental car office in Ljubljana, Slovenia's capital. I drove to Skofja Loka, a small town about 25 minutes away. Igor, my strapping host at Hotel Garni Paleta, welcomed with me at 11 p.m. with a smile and "medici," "alcoholic Red Bull," an "energy drink with alcohol that goes straight to your blood, with honey for energy." (Imagine that with a Slavic accent, if you can.)

Breakfast each morning consisted of breads with many topping options and a hard-boiled egg ready at my seat, along with offers of yogurt and muesli. Igor also brought a slice of a different "cake" each morning, "cake" in parentheses because they were not dessert cakes, but swirled sweet cakes with nuts, in one, "potica orehova," and tarragon in the other, "potica pehtranova." After my first breakfast and time with Igor and maps planning my time in Slovenia, he took me on a tour of part of his home. Skofja Loka ("SKOFE-yuh LOKE-a") is a small, old town.

Igor's home, originally his grandfather's, backs up to the small river. The basement, which is the only part of the house that survived a fire many years ago, is 600 years old, and the rest of the house is 300. Igor took me down to his garden, on a terrace above the river (you can see it below center in the first photo, below), and he picked a couple of tomatoes for me.

In addition to my delicious energy shot and breakfasts with Igor chatting with me from the small kitchenette, one of my favorite moments in the town was swimming in the river on a hot afternoon, before heading into Ljubljana ("LYOU-blee-YAH-na") for the evening.

In Ljubljana I enjoyed a hike up to the castle, a handful of distinctive bridges (including the cobbler's bridge, the triple bridge, the butcher's bridge, and the dragon bridge), and the happy vibe of the city. I ended up having dinner with an Italian man, Roberto, who was in town on business, and we picked each other's brains for travel suggestions in Europe and America. Following are a variety of photos--graffiti, bridges, castle, etc.--from Ljubljana.

You know when you're driving almost exclusively in first and second gears you're either in heavy traffic or going somewhere really cool. I've done both on this trip, but one of the highlights of my journey thus far was driving over Vrsic ("vir-SEH-chee," if I've got it right) Pass, 1611 meters high (or more than 50 hairpin turns, however you prefer to measure), in the Julian Alps, and then hiking for a couple of hours to get some stunning views. While on one of the hikes I shared an interesting moment. As I walked around one bend with a majestic, but very close, view, there were five people, spread out a bit, silently staring at the view. I joined them. No one moved, and no one broke the silence for perhaps 10 minutes. Twice I wiped a tear from my eye, taken by the beauty, but also taken by this shared moment. In fact I became as much focused on them as I was on the view--one man broke into a silent sob, and two others also wiped tears. A couple with a babbling child walked around the bend and broke the silence, and finally a couple of us stepped away and moved on.

Notice the people on the path in this next one...

After Vrsic, I drove down through the Soca River Valley. The Soca ("SO-cha") River is a beautiful, very clear, light turquoise (I can't seem to find a straightforward and consistent explanation for the color with a short search). I've read that it is among only a few rivers in the world that holds this color through its journey. (I'm including a photo I found online of the river farther downstream, so you can see the color.) One of the Chronicles of Narnia movies was filmed in this area because of its beauty. I stayed the night in a lovely apartment in Kobarid, a small town toward the base of the mountains with a focus on outdoor sports, particularly whitewater rafting, and ties to Ernest Hemingway, who collected wounded in an ambulance during a 1917 battle between Austro-Hungarians and Italians. Hemingway's novel A Farewell to Arms is based on that battle. On a much lighter side, I was treated to a delicious dinner by a Danish couple, Niels and Birgitte, who are a photojournalist and a project director at LEGO, respectively.

It was pouring rain as I got farther down the valley the next morning, but it's worth Googling the Soca River to see photos further on down.

I headed south to Skocjan ("SHKOHTS-yahn") Caves. I opted for the shorter, self-guided tour through the "small" caves. I can't imagine what the big caves are like (which travel writer Rick Steves describes like a sci-fi movie with a "mighty river crashing through the bottom").

To give you a sense of scale in the photo below, there are a few people on a trail just below center, whom even with a strain you might not be able to spot.

Then down to Piran ("peer-ON"), a small city on Slovenia's very small patch of coastline between Italy and Croatia, with a view of the Italian city of Trieste on the drive along the coast. I braved narrow wooden stairs up and up to a church tower to get a view of the city. There were quite a few Muslims touring in Piran, women in various types of hijab. It was a bizarre contrast to men walking through the streets in speedos and a woman here and there sunning topless. A hazelnut ice cream cone in Piran tided me over before inching, in first gear, toward the Croatian border.

The rest of the photos were taken in Piran.

(Updated with more photos, mostly at the end)

Random things I won't forget about Budapest:

The parliament building, as seen from the Buda side (top photo). (I stayed in Pest, which is the newer, hipper, flatter, easier to navigate side.)

Budapest was settled in 896 by the Hungarian Magyars, and both St. Stephen's Basilica and the Parliament building reach 96 meters tall in honor of that date. No other buildings are permitted to surpass that height. The first stanza of the national anthem is 96 seconds long, and you're also not allowed to live longer than 96 years. (I'm told that last bit is a joke...)

I've read that the Gothic revival-style building has 40 million bricks, 40 kg of gold, and half a million precious stones. It was built by more than 1,000 people. It has more than 20 km of staircase and 691 rooms, the largest building in the country. The red star placed on top of the main dome of parliament during Soviet rule was taken down in 1989.

Parliament

St. Stephen's Basilica

The Shoes on the Danube Bank memorial honors Jews who were shot during World War II. They were ordered to take off their shoes before being shot at the edge of the water and plummeting into the river, which carried them away.

I'm told that 70-80% of the city was destroyed by the end of the Second World War. Aron, the main guide for a walking communism tour I attended explained the many "ruin bars" in the city--derelict buildings that have been repurposed, quite distinctively, as pubs. (I can't begin to write about how informative and fascinating the tour was. Religious holidays were not allowed, for instance: Santa Claus became Father Winter, etc.)

If you have any ailment, the thermal pools are recommended. The water comes out at a natural 78 degrees celsius. I went to the Szechenyi pools, after I discovered that there are cool pools as well! From stomach to heart issues, the water is recommended on a regular basis. If you're having trouble with fertility, the thermal pools are your answer. Proof is in the hippos. Some years ago the Budapest zoo's hippos were not procreating as hoped. So the thermal water was brought on scene. Sure enough, the babies started arriving, and so many arrived, in fact, that baby hippos become an export of Budapest. Judit ("YOU-dit", the Hungarian version of Judith), my walking tour guide, said that if we see hippos in other European countries, they likely came from Budapest.

Speaking of water, aside from paying a high price to get cool for a small time, I learned not to pay for water. There are numerous sources around the city--some more basic sticking up out of the ground, and some beautiful sculptured fountains in the squares.

Turns out I rode the first metro line in continental Europe (the yellow line) my first day in the city, and didn't even know it.

Budapest is home of the Rubik's cube, as well as the ballpoint pen, the carbonator (putting fizz into drinks) and safety matches.

It is also well known for paprika. One of my regrets is not having a chance to try mushroom paprikash, recommended by my guide. Goulash is traditional in Hungary, and the mushroom paprikash is a vegetarian version. I did try the red-and-white polka dot packaged sweet treat she recommended, called Turo Rudi, which is dark-chocolate covered cottage cheese. When Judit saw the unconvinced faces in the tour, she said that it tastes like chocolate covered cheesecake. She suggested we enjoy Hungary's cuisine while visiting: "Just go home and eat lots of salad and you'll be fine."

If you have a broken heart, or you want to learn how to speak Hungarian in a night, the elixir is palinka, the country's traditional (and highly potent) drink.

To say hello, you say "szia," pronounced "SEE-ya." And goodbye? Judit says: "Hallo." The word I'm most proud of learning (and admittedly one of only a few I've come away with) is egeszsegedre, which means "cheers." There are 44 letters in the Hungarian alphabet, and I'm told that because of the way the language works (instead of using separate words for concepts like prepositions and pronouns, those elements are affixed onto words), they can fit what would be a whole sentence in English into one word. Judit offered an example: "Hey, you can't take all the cabbage from that." Oh, and if you're watching a movie with aliens or the devil, and they speak a foreign language, there's a good chance they're speaking Hungarian.

The website Omniglot lists useful phrases in a variety of world languages. One useful phrase, in addition to "hello," "thank you" and "where's the restroom?" is "A legparnas hajom tele van angolnakkal," which translates to "My hovercraft is full of eels." Omniglot writes: "This phrase is used in a sketch about a badly translated English-Hungarian phrasebook from the British TV comedy show, Monty Python's Flying Circus. It's possibly the most useful phrase there is." Because of that, it's translated into numerous languages. (While on languages I must note that I cannot right now remember how to include accents on words... the alien-hovercraft deal should have four of its own...)

Fisherman's Bastion was quite cool... I was told all of the buildings in that area are about 800 years old. Also watched the crossing of the guard at the "White House."

Hungarian wine (another thing I missed) is supposedly quite good, and quite cheap. I'm told they're very good at winemaking and quite terrible at marketing.

Because I'm fascinated by cemeteries in different countries... (including a shot of the controversial section for Soviet soldiers, in the same cemetery):

Hungary has had quite a history, and the last 500 years have been rough, with one occupation after another. The Turks, the Austrians, the Germans, the Soviets--some would come in under the guise of "liberating" and then "forget to leave," says Judit. Independent Hungary, only 25 years old, is not yet a democracy, said Aron. It is a post-communist country, and he said that the leadership did not even change hands. In fact, he argues that the nation is less democratic now than it was in 1990. (Someone keeps painting "Victator" onto a building in town, spinning the name of the prime minister: Victor.)

Bribing is still the way to get the things you want: the school you want for your child, or your surgery in two weeks instead of seven months. This latter one was a personal example from Aron; When his physician told him this sports surgery would take place in seven months, Aron handed him an envelope with 20,000 forents (roughly 60 euros) and not long after he received a call that the surgery had been moved up. It's necessary, Aron says, because doctors are paid so little in Hungary that they are leaving in large numbers--the brain drain.

But it's MUCH different than before the curtain was lifted in 1989. Aron said that in high school his history teachers could no longer look students in the eye, and many questions that were asked were answered with "don't ask that question." Soon history teachers were quitting and taking on other work.

There is an agreement between Hungary and Russia to keep the memorial honoring Soviet soldiers killed during WWII, which can be viewed from the windows of the American Embassy, and which a statue of Ronald Reagan (the cutest of the presidents, our guide Ursula said) keeps his eye on.

One of Ursula's friends got to vacation to Vienna when she was young. The family bought bananas, an "exotic fruit." (I probably don't need to explain the lack of availability of most things, particularly exotic fruit--Ursula called Vienna a "different galaxy.") When the family went to cross back into Hungary, the bananas were not permitted, for surely they would be sold on the black market. So the family sat and ate banana after banana. Ursula says that was the first and last time her friend has eaten bananas.

The popular car during the communist era was the Trabant. An old one was parked up near the former palace, and Judit said that it is referred to as the "paper jaguar" because it is constructed from flimsy materials: "cardboard and plastic and glue." You couldn't just go buy it and pick it up the same day. You had to pay ahead of time and wait. Judit's grandparents waited 6 years. She said the joke at the time was, "If you want your child to have a car, buy it for him when he's born."

"Szimpla," the most popular ruin bar, with a Trabant

There was also a phrase that made light of the mass exodus that occurred after the first and second World Wars: "The last one out needs to turn out the lights." Fortunately, you wouldn't guess it now.