The next morning we continued towards Ljubljana, at first in the morning mist, then soon back under the sun. Commuter traffic, trucks, buses. Finally, a sign that prohibited the continue on the road for cyclists. It was headed to a small road - marked with bike route signs - led by the slender, elongating suburbs and into the edge of town, go to really nice, but unfortunately, with many - the traffic to slow down ongoing - thresholds at which was to slow down. Then I found myself in the street with all the confusion of Ljubljana, which can spoil your cycling: industrial and service waste land, lousy bike paths, bustle, dust, a colleague who had spent some time in the city, had warned me.
The bright morning, the city was reached at a walking pace I mingled among the tourists and rolled the streets and squares on both sides of the river up and down. Another cyclist I met radschiebend, but ignored me. Then no greeting (and not even in the second match). Break in a café, two photos, cappuccino, coke. Very nice everything, but I found no real reason to spend the rest of the day here. So I wanted to.
yet even a short back and forth, then something like a main road: again signs that prohibited cycling, instead, a sinewy bike path on a sidewalk that led from time to time in a parking strip, and two times you should really get away from the road by blocks intersect (up on the sidewalk again somehow place was?). A highway underpass: here I met the cyclist without greeting again, studying his map. Now, he said to me, to Postojna he would if he was on the right track? And I kept his card in front of his face. I pointed to my GPS and replied that this would argue that, because I would also towards Postojna. Aha, then I started ignore the growing cycle, some times we got ourselves yet another, and finally - now quite certain that everything was perfect - he moved away.
went a few miles now's unattractive parallel to the highway, in Vrhnika parted both streets, and behind the place a rising curve, so when needed for the largely flat stage today climbed again. To the now really trendy lunch break I gave, I had been the break in Ljubljana, but - I had to discover later - that was probably a mistake, because I rolled so swiftly into a fairly low point, which I finally, at the accessibility of my (too ambitious?) destinations could not doubt.
First we went to a byway, a PC at home, looking out abbreviation led steeply up a hill and then into gravel, which was not me uneasy, so then back down. Now, in the lowest speed range, the wide road up: not really steep, but long long shadows and ascending, rarely boring, tedious to me was very cumbersome: it was exactly the kind of pitch that I liked the least. An Italian couple who had overtaken me with cries attracted me to a short break, they were driven up the river Drava and wanted to return to Italy. I met her shortly before Postojna every now and again they drove while faster than I thought but to often.
Logatec back then started the nicer part of the stage, leading away from the main road, narrow trails, sometimes flatten, then descending, through villages and between fields. I met a cyclist troupe, which was traveling with support vehicles: Tour of Slovenia stood on it there, and finally reached the point where I had to choose: continue on my route, but since then as the day before risking hard or only late (or maybe not) to find accommodation - or better to secure Postojna . I chose the latter, there was still a to take a mountain, I could see the switchbacks on my GPS. Water should I fill, clear, and maybe put me somewhere in a cafe. The only coffee but was occupied by the Radfaherertruppe that last check again, okay, then to the mountain. And the water? Yet another village, junction, here to stay? Since there was probably nothing. Water? Not applicable. Someone ask? No one dared. I had a pint, so this will probably be rich, but not far off.
But beautiful it was then: I like hairpin bends so, because if there are views, (and there). So everything went well: in the afternoon I had arrived, went to the first hotel: a sports hotel expensive, but with 10% Ă–korabatt for cyclists. Well then. The town itself has nothing, you go out there probably only because of the cave - but I had to not feel like I was there as a child, sometimes even that did not have to be repeated. Dinner at a large dining room, whose best times been a little might be her: columns in the middle, chest-high plants and screens between two tables, since you only saw hair and forehead, from the windows overlooking the parking lot. I sat at the side table, the table next to a goth couple, an Austrian accent, she fusses at the menu up and down, it is all a bit embarrassing.
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