The Med to the Midnight Sun

After a great night’s sleep, we had a relaxed breakfast in the apartment while scrolling through Staff Travel options. Since Ted is heading back to Australia a few days earlier than me, he’s been on the hunt for a flight out of Hong Kong, while I’ll be heading to Finland to visit my friend Hedvig before continuing home. The ongoing airline strike might mean a detour via Germany for me before I can make it to Asia, but we’ll figure it out.

Today’s adventure was a day trip to Ljubljana (pronounced lyoo-BLYAH-nah), the capital of nearby Slovenia. I’d booked us on FlixBus—yes, the same company that had delivered a less-than-stellar experience from Hamburg to Berlin, but at a fraction of the train fare, I figured it was worth the gamble. And no, our choice of destination had nothing to do with Melania Trump being born in Slovenia. Promise.

We left the apartment early to grab a coffee and check out the baggage storage options at Trieste’s train station for tomorrow (they have it, thankfully). As we were heading out the door, Ted asked if we needed our passports. I’d originally assumed no—Italy and Slovenia are both in the Schengen Area—but something told us to pack them anyway. Good thing we did. When the bus finally arrived (almost an hour late—classic FlixBus), the driver insisted on seeing passports from every single passenger. We later found out this was due to increased checks to prevent illegal border crossings along bus routes.

While we were waiting, we had another surprising reunion. Shirley—a lovely 88-year-old Aussie we’d met on the cruise—was at the station waiting to catch her bus to Venice’s airport for the first leg of her journey back to Brisbane. We’d already said our goodbyes, so it was a bit of a “fancy seeing you here” moment, just like with the Americans the day before. Travel has a funny way of looping people back into your path.

The ride to Ljubljana took about an hour and a half. As we approached the city, the scenery shifted to rolling green countryside, a refreshing contrast to the coastal views of Trieste. But the change wasn’t just geographic—Ljubljana felt immediately different. The temperature was cooler, the light had a different quality, and the architecture—especially near the bus station—was stark and a bit austere. Ted commented that it looked like how he’d imagined Warsaw might, with slightly Soviet vibes at first glance.

But as we made our way into the Old Town, the tone softened. The first stop was Butchers’ Bridge, which turned out to be equal parts romantic and quirky. With its rows of padlocks clinging to the railings and a few oddball statues along the way, it was more modern art installation than traditional bridge, but definitely memorable.

From there, we wandered through the Central Market, an open-air arcade designed by famed Slovenian architect Jože Plečnik. With arched stone facades and bustling stalls offering fresh fruit, cheese and pastries, it had a charmingly local feel. We paused near the Cathedral of St. Nicholas, instantly recognisable by its green twin spires and baroque yellow façade. The bronze relief doors—etched with scenes of Slovenia’s religious and national history—added a surprising layer of detail.

Just across from the cathedral stood the Town Hall, a mix of Gothic roots and Baroque additions, now blending beautifully with the slightly worn elegance of the surrounding square. It was a perfect spot to pause and take in the pace of the city, which felt relaxed, like it knew exactly what it was and didn’t need to show off.

We decided to tackle Ljubljana Castle while the morning was still cool. The shaded walk uphill was pleasant enough, though the signpost near the top offered some confusion. One arrow even pointed to something called the “Cat Path”—tempting, but not helpful. We chose the steep cobbled climb Google suggested, and after catching our breath at the summit, we took in the views. The castle itself, though? Slightly underwhelming. Modernised to the point where it felt more like a convention centre than a medieval fortress, it lacked the historical soul we’d found in places like Miramare. Still, the panorama over the terracotta rooftops below made the climb worthwhile.

By the time we descended, we were both ready for lunch. We aimed to eat somewhere just outside the main tourist circuit and ended up at Altroke, a Michelin-listed spot. Ted fared well with a hearty lamb goulash served over creamy polenta, while I settled for gnocchi—the only vegetarian option on the menu. It was decent, but I was still on the hunt for something distinctly Slovenian.

So, we stopped by a cheerful little cake shop called Slaščičarna Pri Vodnjaku (you’ll recognise it by its bright yellow and pink signage with cartoon cakes), and I ordered a slice of Prekmurska Gibanica. A traditional Slovenian dessert, it’s a dense, multilayered pastry made with poppy seeds, walnuts, apples, raisins, and sweet quark cheese. Each layer adds a different texture and taste—nutty, tangy, fruity, and just sweet enough to feel indulgent without being cloying. I devoured it. Ted passed.

Next, we made our way to Prešeren Square, the city’s social and architectural heart. It’s dominated by the striking salmon-pink Franciscan Church of the Annunciation, which catches the eye from across the river. Just in front of the church is the statue of France Prešeren, Slovenia’s beloved national poet, being watched over (a bit dramatically) by a bronze muse floating above him.

From there, we strolled along the river until we reached Dragon Bridge, one of Ljubljana’s most iconic landmarks. The vivid green dragon statues perched on either end have become something of a city mascot, and we couldn’t resist the obligatory photo op—especially with Ted staring it down, both of them locked in a silent challenge.

Afterwards, we wandered into Tivoli Park, a sprawling green space filled with manicured gardens, fountains, and shaded walking paths. It felt a world away from the busy squares, and the calm was a welcome change of pace. It was the kind of place you could imagine returning to with a book and a lazy afternoon.

Eventually, we made our way back toward the bus station. We were a little early, so we sat down for a beer and some chips while waiting for the bus. But, as if on cue, FlixBus was late again—almost an hour this time. We ducked into a nearby Mexican fast-food place called Que Pasa, where I ordered “nachos” that turned out to be plain corn chips with three pots of dip. Not quite culinary brilliance, but it killed time.

So, did we enjoy Ljubljana? Yes. It had some beautiful corners, a lot of interesting contrasts, and a relaxed, lived-in charm. But would we come back? Probably not. It didn’t quite sparkle like some of the other cities we’ve visited on this trip. Still, we’re glad we came — it added a new flavour to the journey, both literally and figuratively.

Tomorrow we’ll pack up once more as the journey home begins. It’s been a wonderful holiday — but we’re also ready for home.Les mer