Postcards From Across the Pond

Day Seven – Sunday,17 May 2026 SUN

The Gorge

Vintgar Gorge is refreshingly close by and, as with the other attractions, insanely popular, especially when you realise it is little more than a walk by a river. Give it its due, however, it is a spectacular river.

As with the other insanely popular attractions, the crowd control was admirable. Our group had a timed entry (along with a hundred and thirty-seven other people) and we were all issued hard-hats that most of us assumed had been de-loused (those who were not so sure worn hairnets under their helmets; you can’t be too careful). From there, we walked, following the pathway and boardwalk along the raging river.

The path is a little over a mile long, but we were given forty-five minutes. My wife and I—who can walk a mile in about fifteen minutes—thought this was an absurdly long time until we realised the reason: people. Plus, it was genuinely awe-inspiring, prompting many to pause for photographs and selfies and group shots. But I can’t blame them, it was really spectacular.

I didn’t bother taking many pictures as one of our number is a keen photographer and posts her best shots to our WhatsApp group. I told her I was going to steal them and use them in my blog. I’ll give her credit, of course.

Once we gathered at the far end, we were offered a choice of two ways to get to the bus: a route that contained about two hundred stairsteps, or a gentler but longer incline. We opted for the longer route, which was, as advertised, less rigorous, and also pleasantly picturesque.

Then we went to the church on the lake.

The Church of the Mother of God on the Lake, or the Pilgrimage Church of the Assumption of Mary, or The Church of Mary the Queen, or Our Lady of the Lake; surely the most names for a simple church, perhaps the most names for a church in the known universe.

There had been a church on the island since the 9th century, but the current edifice was built in the 17th century. To get to the church you need to have a boat, or hire a gondola-type boat to give you a lift. There is no airstrip on the island so flying is out of the question. I suppose you could swim, but that is not recommended.

The chapel has a literally legendary bell as there is literally, a legend about it. The story goes, a grieving widow had all her gold and silver melted down to make a bell for the church, but as they were ferrying it over, a storm hit and the boat–along with the bell–sank to the bottom of the lake. When the Pope heard the sad story, he donated a bell to the church, which is the popular wishing bell.

Once you arrive at the island, you only need to climb 99 steps to get to the church.

We were rowed out and, once on the dock, were faced with a climb of one hundred steps, all at once. We all made it, but that climb had to be as disheartening as the two hundred step pathway at the gorge, made worse by FL stating, as we started out, “I’ll run to the top and get the tickets.”

The tickets were handy, because they got you into everything on the island, including the toilets. No ticket, no toilet! The main attraction on the island is the church, and the main attraction in the church is the wishing bell. Basically, you are allowed to pull on the bell rope and make a wish, and if you are successful in ringing the bell (it’s harder than you think), your wish will come true.

When my turn came (it’s also more popular than you imagine) I saw, on the floor near the bell rope, a list of things you are forbidden to do—such as hang on the rope, climb the rope, use the rope as a trapeze, play at being Tarzan, etc.—and found my intended wish among them, so I just rang the bell without making a wish and called it a day. We then walked around the island (ten minutes), checked out the gift shop (oddly, you could enter that without a ticket) and sat in the sun until it was time to leave.

Walking down the one hundred steps proved easier than walking up and, once we all gathered, we were rowed back to shore and released on our own recognizance until six o’clock, when our final adventure began.

This involved returning to Radovljica for a traditional dinner accompanied by traditional folk dancing. The festivities began with all twenty-eight of us (the group and FL) clustered in the wine cellar with the matron of the restaurant and an accordion player who played very capably, and very loudly, causing twenty-seven people to talk very loudly amongst themselves and leaving me standing like a pillock without a chance in hell of following a conversation.

At length, we were ordered to put down our wine glasses and head upstairs where we were seated in a large room with the tables arranged suspiciously near the walls. I had imagined a quiet meal with a demonstration of local folk dances afterward, but the apparently indefatigable accordion player started up as soon as we sat down, signalling the entry of five folk dance couples—the women dressed a bit like Russian Grannies and the men in something akin to lederhosen and wearing Alpine hats—to folk dance into the room. It was an impressive display, even though none of us had any idea what was going on. At least it wasn’t taking place in southern England where the couples would have been prancing around wearing jingle bells and whacking at each other with big sticks.

After our appetiser, the dancers—and the accordion player—returned for another go. This one involved some singing but, of course, none of us could understand it. Still, it was entertaining.

After the entrée they returned and performed a dance where they accompanied the accordion player by banging on old-fashioned farming implements. This was when I began to feel grateful that I had sat well to the back, because when they were through, they conscripted members of our group to take the implements and perform with the next song. It was good fun, and topped only by the performance after the dessert, where the men did a circle dance that involved rhythmically removing their hats and placing them on their neighbour’s head. (You had to be there.) Whoever made a mistake was pulled from the circle until there were two men left who had to kneel and face off with one another. Then they conscripted more men from the group and had them do it, which was when I really felt grateful that I had taken a seat in the back.

As darkness settled, we gave the dancers heartfelt applause, thanked our hosts, and headed back to the bus, the entertainment and excursion portion of our holiday behind us.

Day Eight – Monday,18 May 2026 SUN

Leaving

Even though this is the final day, we still have a chance to enjoy ourselves. My wife and I took a walk around Lake Bled, which took about an hour, and only because we stopped to enjoy the view. Unlike the bulk of the week, the weather is warm and sunny, making the lake and backdrop of snow-capped mountains sparkle.

After checking out, most of the group took advantage of the weather to enjoy coffee on the outdoor patio where the views were, once again, fetching.

The bus ride to the airport was speedy and uneventful and we were met by FL who guided us to the check-in desk. Then, with our cases gone (and hopefully to be reunited with us at Heathrow) we breezed through security and came to the ultra-modern, state-of-the-art Passport Control, where the new and efficient technology took two or three minutes per person to process. With a lone Security Officer processing passports, our flight boarding in less than an hour, and over one hundred people in line, there are only two outcomes: cut some passengers loose or delay the flight.

We wait to discover which it will be.

(Sometime later)

Turns out there was a third option: fast-track the people on our flight so we can all board on time.

When this new system went in some weeks ago, the astoundingly long queues it generated led the evening news. Having heard nothing about it since, I assumed they had worked out all the bugs. Apparently, the only thing that has changed is the news cycle (and let’s be honest, there are certainly more urgent things happening in the world right now than inconvenienced travellers.)

It is going to be interesting when the summer months hit and a lot more people are travelling. Thankfully, we aren’t due back in the EU until the autumn, though we can’t be certain they will have sorted it out even then.

So, the excitement is over for now, time to settle back and look forward to returning to England’s green and pleasant land where, as I recall, the kitchen floor needs washing.