Slovenia, we need to talk about the weather

Almost a year has passed (AGAIN) since I last touched this blog. It wasn’t because I’d run out of ideas or stories worth telling. I haven’t given up writing, either. In fact, I’ve published not one, but three books on Amazon since then. So, it’s not like I’ve been sitting around doing nothing. But, well… life happens.

This weekend, however, finally convinced me. That’s it. It’s time to get back to writing!

So, let me tell you a little story.

Two girls decided to head to Slovenia for a glamping weekend: a little getaway involving relaxation, a hot tub, a sauna, and some hiking. My friend Iuliana has a real talent for finding the nicest places to stay.

We’d booked everything well in advance, but for some reason, neither of us seemed mentally prepared for the trip. Even I, the person who normally has her suitcase packed three days before departure, left everything until the very last minute.

And, just to make things more interesting, Iuliana sent me the weather forecast at the eleventh hour: 3°C and rain (and yes, I could have checked myself, too). That was all it took for me to completely repack my suitcase an hour before we were due to leave.

Off we went, two happy little flowers, hopping into the car and hitting the road.

The drive to our destination in Slovenia was supposed to take about three hours. Basically, it was right around the corner. Practically next door. Just a stone’s throw away. From one EU country to another. A detail that would turn out to be rather important!

Somewhere along the way, we started taking inventory of our luggage, discussing what we’d packed, what we actually needed, and what we’d brought for absolutely no reason (like the Dyson :p). Naturally, this led us back to the forecast and our desperate hope that perhaps the weather wouldn’t be quite as bad as predicted. Especially since, as Iuliana pointed out, she didn’t bring a rain jacket. Another important detail.

Anyway, we eventually arrived at our glamping destination, where the owner was already waiting to greet us in the car park. It was immediately obvious that he was a bit of a joker and had a good sense of humour.

He told us to follow him to check in and get our passports ready. Passports?

Oops.

Suddenly, it hit me: I had absolutely no form of ID on me. Nothing. All I had in my wallet was my driving licence.

I calmly informed Iuliana that I had neither my ID card nor my passport with me. It honestly hadn’t even crossed my mind that I might need a passport. I mean, why would I? We were only three hours’ drive from Salzburg. Still within the EU. No border checks. Nothing.

How could I possibly be in another country?

What do you mean Slovenia isn’t just an extension of my local supermarket?

My brain simply refused to process the concept of being abroad. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. A complete mental blank.

I tried to retrace every step of my trip preparation, mentally placing myself back in time and space, desperately trying to figure out what on earth I’d been thinking. And still, I couldn’t make sense of it.

Then I remembered all those times I’d driven to Kaufland in Germany to do my grocery shopping. This town in Germany is just ten minutes from Salzburg, after all. And not once had I ever taken my passport with me. Why would I? I was practically popping out to the shops.

Never mind that Austria isn’t even my home country!!!

Dear European Union, for all the wonderful benefits you’ve given us, thank you for somehow wiping every last trace of common sense and personal responsibility from my brain! You’ve made me completely clueless. All these wonderful privileges have left me so thoroughly disoriented that I no longer know where I am or what I’m doing!

Now, back to our hosts.

The husband was the picture of calm. Nothing seemed to faze him, and he was clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. His wife, on the other hand, was a force of nature. She was bossy, outspoken, and absolutely hilarious, with the sort of no-nonsense attitude that made you feel she could organise your entire life for you, whether you’d asked her to or not.

Between the two of them, we were treated to a rather entertaining multilingual experience. We bounced between German and English, with the occasional bit of Italian thrown into the mix whenever the conversation took an unexpected turn. Sometimes it felt less like checking into a glamping site and more like participating in an improvised European language exchange.

And there I was, standing in the middle of it all, without a single piece of valid ID, trying to look as though this was a perfectly normal situation. The owner's wife looked as though she was about to drag me home by the ear herself. Her husband, meanwhile, remained wonderfully unbothered, cracking jokes and keeping the whole thing from turning into an international incident.

Thankfully, his sense of humour prevailed, and somehow, we managed to check in.

The first evening passed without any major incidents.

Saturday arrived. We had breakfast, put on our hiking gear, and studied the map. There were a few waterfalls nearby, so we decided to check them out. And surely, we thought, we could squeeze in a hike somewhere in the area, too.

We reached the waterfalls, wandered around, doubled back a few times, took all the obligatory photos, and enjoyed the scenery.

But hiking trails? Nowhere to be found.

It had started raining a little, but nothing particularly concerning. Nothing we couldn’t handle.

We kept searching for hiking routes and eventually found something that looked promising. Off we went again, full of excitement, although perhaps not entirely because of the hike. We were driving an electric car, and its battery was getting low enough that finding a charging station was becoming a matter of some urgency.

Eventually, we reached our next destination.

Just as we were about to get out of the car, I glanced at the weather forecast on my phone. Snow. Until 6 p.m.

I told Iuliana, but we immediately reassured each other. There was no way it was going to snow. It wasn’t even raining anymore. Where on earth was this snow supposed to come from?

And so, off we went on foot.

Five minutes later, it started raining.

Remember how I mentioned that Iuliana didn’t have a rain jacket?

The rain grew heavier, but we were still in the forest, so at least the trees provided some shelter. We both reckoned it was still manageable, and we could keep going.

Another five minutes passed, and the rain turned into sleet.

Once again, we encouraged each other. We’d made it this far, hadn’t we? We couldn’t just give up now! So we pressed on for another five minutes. And then all hell broke loose: a full-blown snowstorm.

By this point, we’d left the forest behind and were out on an exposed plateau. Snow was blowing at us from every direction. The scene was almost apocalyptic, and we could barely see three metres ahead of us.

But we kept trying to negotiate with reality. Maybe it would stop soon. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe we could just climb a little higher. We’d come all this way, after all!!!!

Except there was absolutely no chance of going any further.

Iuliana was now almost soaked to the skin, looking like a puppy that had been left out in the rain all day.

We finally decided to turn back and head for the car. I don’t think we’d even been hiking for twenty minutes, but hey, at least we made the right call. The last thing we wanted was to have to call mountain rescue.

Not that I’m sure how I would have explained the purpose and duration of my visit without a single piece of ID on me!

Anyway, no big deal. We’re resourceful girls. We can adapt.

Time for Plan B: first, charge the car, then head to either Lake Bled or Ljubljana.

We found a petrol station, plugged in the car, and came up with another brilliant idea: Iuliana could dry her jacket a little under the hand dryer in the ladies’ toilets. Except, surprise, surprise, there was no hand dryer. Just paper towels.

The disappointment. The despair. The sheer devastation written all over our faces. Our spirits had sunk about as low as they could possibly go.

That is, until we spotted bean soup on the menu.

And let me tell you, that was the best meal we had in Slovenia. Bean soup with smoked meat. At a petrol station. A feast fit for royalty, I kid you not!

After that glorious meal, we felt a little more human and decided to head back to our accommodation.

A short afternoon nap later, we had dinner, followed by three hours in the sauna.

And honestly? It turned out to be the best evening of the entire trip.

We talked, went over the day’s events, laughed at our spectacular run of bad luck with the weather, watched a movie, and simply enjoyed ourselves.

It reminded me of something important: how much it matters to be in good company. To have people around you with whom you can laugh at your misfortunes. To realise that life isn’t about ticking every single item off your checklist. It’s about how you handle the moments when things don’t go according to plan.

Good friends are something truly worth cherishing.

And good hosts, too. Even when one of them is ready to send you packing and the other is laughing his way through your passport crisis. Sometimes a little humour, a little patience, and the ability to switch between three languages are all you need to turn a potentially disastrous check-in into a story worth telling.

And, of course, Sunday greeted us with sunshine and beautiful weather. Naturally!

The only problem was that we were leaving. At least we managed to have breakfast outside, in the sun.

Slovenia, we’ll be back!

But next time, could you please keep the surprise snowstorms to yourself?