Bled Lake, Island & Castle

Surrounded by majestic mountains, Lake Bled seems like it’s drawn from a fairytale. During this tour you will visit the 11th century Bled Castle set high atop a cliff and then head to Bled Island.
 The beauty of the surrounding mountains reflects on the lake surface. Throughout the year visitors will enjoy the peace of the lake and fresh air. 
Climb (with our car or afoot) atop a steep cliff more than 100m above the lake, Bled Castle is how most people imagine a medieval fortress to be, with towers, ramparts, moats and a terrace offering magnificent views. The castle houses a unique treasure - a reconstructed Gutenberg's wooden printing press on which the master printer will demonstrate old printing techniques using hand-made paper.  
On the lake shore take 'pletna' handmade wooden traditional boat to the lake island. Rowers still use man power as in old days, making your experience more memorable. The tiny, tear-shaped island beckons from the shore and the ride with the 'pletna' boat is a real thrill. Climb atop 99 stairs and ring a bell for your wishes to come true.  
Upon return from the island stop at the local patisserie  and take a break; taste Bled’s famous cream cake – kremšnita. Since the last 60 years, as many as 12 million cream cakes have been sold. Try it yourself. 

Tito

Lublana

Namibia: Rooster Yelling In My Ear

At the crack of 2:37AM, I'm startled by a rooster yelling in my ear, not more than a few feet away. Then, just as I find sleep, the rooster calls out again. 3:21AM. Did someone import this rooster and forget to reset his clock? Ever half hour thereafter, the rooster reminds me how annoying he is.

With an unstoppable alarm clock on the fritz, I give up and step outside the tent. 5:00AM, a desperate moan comes from the other side of a barbed fence, so naturally I find myself walking over. Five kids are running through a herd of cattle, long stick and ropes in hand. Singling out a large cow with sharp curved horns, the boys throw the rope and proceed to run circles around the terrified animal, winding him with rope. As soon as the cow trips, a brave boy dodges the horns and lunges out with a long knife, stabbing him in the back of the head. I try to turn away, but can't... The most ugly cry gurgles from the dying cow, but I stand, trying to sensitize myself to how the rest of the world feeds themselves.

Calvin 

(to be continued) 

Opuwo, Namibia: Urine to wash their faces

We have just arrived in the outskirts of Opuwo -- a last taste of civilization before heading north through Kaokoland. Resting here for the evening, the air is thick with dust. The setting sun has already disappeared behind the dusty air, setting everything aglow with orange.

Entering a campsite, I am approached by a young woman who tells me she was just robbed in her tent by someone working there. With that thought on my mind, I fall asleep and ignore my itching my nose and lungs.

Opuwo has been without water for the past 8 months. The town has not paid for its water bills and so the public water supply has been shut off. Earlier, I met the man who apparently stole the money. Everyone knows who, but there isn't enough evidence. Yet, under the layer of dust, the town survives. A local Himba woman tells me that the school children are having to use their own urine to wash their faces.

Calvin 

(to be continued) 

Equatorial Guinea 5 Reed hut constructed for me

To be truthful, when we landed, I really was surprised.

There was a village on this ½ sq. km. dot of land, and I was surely the first traveller to ever visit it. Not only that, but the friendly villagers considered me to be an honoured guest who had obviously come there to settle. By nightfall, a reed hut had been constructed for me to live in. Then I, and the entire village sat down to a feast of grilled fish, manioc and copious quantities of palm wine. This was followed by dancing, drumming, and drinking long into the night. It was very late when I finally staggered to my hut and I did not have the inclination to reflect on my onward journey. Were I feeling romantic, I may have conjured up a multitude of exotic, Robinson Crusoe-style scenarios. But sleep intervened and I awoke to the reality of a buzzing outboard motor. And so it was, with the entire village enthusiastically waving farewell, that the possessor of Tourist Visa No. 001 finally departed Equatorial Guinea.

David W. Bennett 

Equatorial Guinea 4 The Engine Sputtered

Acalayong consisted of thirty huts huddled on the shore of a broad estuary.  At the shallow water's edge was beached   a flotilla, of hollowed-out log canoes; some sporting outboard motors. After intense bargaining, one of the owners agreed to take me across the estuary to Gabon. Soon, we were under way, skimming over the water which occasionally surged over the prow of the low sitting canoe.

We must have travelled a good three hours before the engine sputtered to a halt. The estuary had widened considerably at this point and the change in water colour indicated that we were geographically in the Atlantic Ocean. Apart from a few nearby islets, land appeared to be very far away indeed. I was, therefore, greatly relieved when the current carried us to one of these islets, rather than out to sea.

To be truthful, when we landed, I really was surprised.

David W. Bennett 

(to be continued) 

Equatorial Guinea 3 Lone white man

Nor did I find it that strange to enter the building and find a well-stocked bar and about one hundred dancing patrons, eighty of whom were young women. I am sure the most bizarre event to occur that day was the entrance of a lone white man, with a bag strapped to his back.

In any case, I settled down to enjoy a few beers, answer curious questions and gather more information. Amidst many offers of overnight accommodation, I was able to ascertain that a vehicle would be making its weekly journey to Acalayong, the southernmost town, the very next day

The next morning, a decrepit pickup truck did, indeed, turn up. I thankfully scrambled into the back with sacks of grain, baskets of live chickens and about fifteen other passengers. Apart from one small village, there was very little to see during the eight hour journey. The road was in deplorable condition, practically swallowed up by the dense jungle which closed in tightly on both sides. By the time the truck wheezed into Acalayong, I was alone, my fellow passengers having disappeared into the bush along the way.

David W. Bennett 

(to be continued) 

Equatorial Guinea 2 Ghost Town

Bushmeat for sale outside Bata, Equatorial Guinea

During his 10 year rule, many people disappeared, the country's economy collapsed, and half the population was forced to flee. This information didn't fully prepare me for what I found. The centre of Bata was a virtual ghost town. The handsome Spanish colonial buildings were boarded up, and the well maintained streets were empty of both people and vehicles. I surmised that the refugees had little reason to return here from the relative prosperity of Cameroon or Gabon.

This conclusion did nothing to alleviate my present predicament, however. Knowing there to be no flights, I resigned myself to the possibility to having to walk to Gabon. After about half an hour, I was surprised to come upon an apparently well-populated thatched suburb. I say surprised, but after travelling in Africa for a while, nothing seems that surprising. I, therefore, did not find it strange to hear the sound of a fifteen year old Beatles recording blaring from a large thatched building.

David W. Bennett 

(to be continued) 

Lipica

Predjama

Bled

 

Congo 4: My heart sank

I awoke the next morning with a crushing headache. It eased as the day became a repeat of the day before. We visited several villages and covered 100 kilometres by nightfall. Unfortunately, I was still not at my destination as 50 of those kilometres had been side-trips to villages off the main road.

Once again, Pierre took me to visit his wife and children. “I suppose you have a wife in Makabana, to,” I said jokingly. “How did you know that?” said Pierre, surprised. Then a glint of recognition came to his face. “You've been talking to Jurgen, haven't you? He must have told you.”

Now that I understood Pierre's timetable, I awoke the next morning confident of reaching my destination. We travelled quickly until, outside a large town called Kibangou, we were stopped at a police checkpoint. A stern-faced officer perused my passport. “You didn't get your passport stamped in Lobo.” he said, referring to a forgettable village 80 kilometres back down the road. “You will have to return there to get it stamped.”

My heart sank.

David Bennett 
(to be continued) 

Piran - a pearl of the Adriatic coast.

Discover this small and charming town, also known as the pearl of the Slovenian coast.
The town is situated on a peninsula that ends in the promontory Punta Madonna, which used to be populated already in pre-Roman times.
The origin of its name derives from the Greek word PYR (fire)  for there was always a fire burning on the promontory to warn sailors at sea.

Places to see:
* Tartini Square, which is dedicated to the most famous citizen of Piran, the municipal palace, Venetian palace and the church of St. Peter.
* Franciscan monastery with a baroque cloister.
* Don' miss the Maritime Museum & Aquarium.

* Punta or Cape Madonna. On Punta you can enjoy in the view over both – the Gulf of Trieste and Croatian Savudria.
* 1st May Square which was once the main square of Piran. On the square you can find a large stone cistern, which was once used to collect rainwater from houses around the square.
* Church of St. George from the 17th century with baroque interior, where you can find interesting statue of St. George in battle with a dragon.

One of the greatest treasures of Piran can be found behind the altar: the Piran crucifix which dates back to the 14th century (usually you can see the interior of the church only through a fence. To enter the church you have to pay admission in Parish Museum of St George).
On a clear day you can enjoy the great view from the church terrace all the way from the Gulf of Trieste in the front, to the Julian Alps and even the Dolomites.
* You will get an even better view if you have enough energy to climb the famous Piran Ramparts. 

Slovenian

Slovenes