A very old friend, this Gus character is a professor, raconteur, and photographer extraordinaire. After attending a high-brow photography workshop in Italy, he wanted to wander around a bit. There you have the entire incentive for a circle through Slovenia, Croatia, Hungary, and Slovakia. Vienna to Ljubljana, €80 for the direct train or €29 for the somewhat more local train. Ever the starving author, you know which one I chose. And so it was a merry chase, four local trains across Austria and Slovenia, empty little border stations and stopping at every rural crossroads. It was great! Farms and fields, peaks and valleys, the world falling away into the rhythm of the slow train.

Ljubljana, the capital city of Slovenia, is also one of the funnest city names to say out loud. Try it a few times, see if you can come up with our loving nickname for the place. Vibrant, young, fun, and small enough to be very manageable, Ljubljana is a great spot. The city is a mix of modern Europe. Tito’s Yugoslavia, and the Habsburg era. A river runs through it (sorry!) complete with picturesque stone bridges. Outdoor cafés line the river and, of course, there is the Tourist-Shopping-Street. Aside from the T-S-S, Ljubljana is a gem of a walking city.

The moon it did rise low, My Love, As I walked through your town. The silver moon rose low, My Love, As I came walking down.

The great thing about hanging out with artsy friends from the states is that they often have cool stuff, like a Rental Car! Oh, the luxury of turning up random roads, being a crappy navigator, and getting totally lost. Even better when one’s traveling companion loves getting lost as much as you do.

We ran from dead-end to hidden shrine, taking quite possibly the slowest and wiggliest route between Ljubljana and Zagreb. One-lane roads over bumpy mountains covered with steep forests, picture-perfect little farms (which I have no pictures of) and coffee stops at remote cafés.

The Grand Slovenian Back-road Tour managed to transform a two-hour drive into a seven-hour drive. We finally wandered into Zagreb under dark clouds. If you have read any of my other travel posts, you will know that I love Zagreb. It took Gus about six hours to fall in love with the place.

The medieval upper town is one of Zagreb’s charms, but unlike Ljubljana, be prepared to hike up and down hills.

The oddest thing about being in Zagreb is that I used the city as one setting in my current novel project. I was seeing the place through the eyes of my characters, as well as through my own. And Gus, bless his heart, was getting a little sick of hearing about it.

I tried to make it up to him by leading him around one of my favorite cities without walking him to death. Instead, I walked him half to death, then we sat at a café and watched the world go by. After walking his second half to death, we found an outdoor dinner place. The rest of the evening was spent cheering for Croatia in the World Cup. Go Checkered Devils!!  (I continued to root for Croatia throughout the World Cup)

The circle ran on, out of Zagreb to the weirdness of a lake resort in Hungary, Lake Balaton. We just picked it off the map because it looked cool, a great whonking big lake. It turned out to be a strange time-warp, casting us back into a world of 1960’s era family fishing vacations. And guess what? That is exactly what it is, verified by My Heart, who spent her childhood vacations there.

So we left, driving through rain, then brilliant sun over massive fields of sunflowers. Gus kept threatening to pull over and cut off his ear. After managing to keep all the meaty bits attached, we finally wandered into Slovakia, and a whirlwind tour of Bratislava. Bratislava has done a fantastic job of marketing its small Old Town as a tourist destination. Ninety minutes from Vienna, Bratislava has started pulling in day-trippers, shuttled here from Wien by boat, bus, and rail. Even with the influx of tourists, it is an easy town to disappear into. Climb some of the steep hills, or venture out into the ‘modern city’ of the Tito-era, and the tourists are gone.

The Professor had to fly back over the pond, so time was running out. A few nights in Wien, showing him my favorite odd places, then he was gone. Alas! Alas! will be the cry, when the lovely journey has passed us by.

The cagey Professor, trying to chat up My Heart.