Vagabonding

Shortly before Ljubljana I find a crow lying on the road.
It must have been hit by a car recently and I first get it off the road.
I try to find out where I can take it - not so easy.
Two passers-by find a phone number for me, which I then call. The doctor on the other end explains that he can't take the animal himself, but that I should try the university's veterinary hospital. The crow is packed up and then taken there as quickly as possible. 🚨

There is a young man sitting in the waiting room whom I ask if I am in the right place to drop off an injured bird.
He asks me what I have.
"I brought a crow that got hit by a car."
He: "Me too. Let's see your crow !" 😆

We wait for a moment, then the steel door leading from the waiting room into the laboratory opens. A veterinarian comes out of the door and talks to the teenager about the condition of his crow.
I don't understand a word and don't even focus on the conversation, because I'm completely distracted by the little bird sitting on her shoulder the whole time. 😳
The woman must really have a special talent with animals. My crow is in good hands here. Who knows what tricks she can teach her!
I'll leave her there in the care of the bird whisperer and on we go.

To get to know the city a bit better in the coming days, I decide to look for a good camp spot. This is a bit more difficult than I thought, but eventually I find an abandoned plot of land with a ruin on it. Ideal for my purposes.

The next morning I am just about to eat my muesli when a small car rolls onto the property.
My gut feeling tells me that it could be unpleasant now (but it always says that when someone finds me camping. Most of the time I am ignored or greeted in a friendly way).
I greet the man with a friendly 'Good afternoon', but although I don't understand the details of his reply, his annoyance at my presence on his property is clear.
He is not put off by the language barrier and talks and talks. I tell him that I will pack up immediately and be gone in a few minutes. He continues to talk to me, I only understand the word policia. So that's who he wants to call. He makes some kind of phone call, I don't know if it's to the police or someone else. Meanwhile, I hurriedly pack my things, maybe I can soften him up.

After a few minutes I am ready but the police are not there yet. He points at me and then at the exit. The message is clear.
Before I leave, however, he doesn't miss the opportunity to wish the police, Homeland Security, the judiciary, the military, plague and cholera on me if he ever sees me again.
I can understand his displeasure to a certain extent, but you don't joke about plague and cholera.

I like Ljubljana very much, apart from the many temples of consumption that have been built there. The facades of the houses in the city centre are well preserved, the waterfront beautifully designed. I find a few cafés where I can work to some extent and wait out a few heavy rain showers. Once it hails - not too little - and I can free a few young people from a house niche with my tent tarp, who would otherwise have been soaked to the bone.Weiterlesen