Traveller’s Tales part III

The first part can be found: HERE

The second part can be found: HERE


The idea of Lily running away, or being on the on the run began to conjure all kinds of images in my fertile imagination. Perhaps she had escaped from Holloway, Britain’s number one women’s prison? For all I knew she could be an axe murderer or worse still an internet stalker.

Lily sensing my confusion continued. ‘Since I retired and lost my sight for all the best reasons I’ve been cosseted almost to the point of suffocation by my family. They are treasures really, but their concern for me can get very claustrophobic, they won’t let me leave the house unaccompanied if they can avoid it………. I just had to get away.’

I nodded. ‘But why here? Why Ljubljana?’

Lily sighed and smiled. ‘Wonderful memories of happy times. I used to work here once and have many friends, I just want to relive for a short while those happy times…the sounds the smells…..’ her voice tailed away.

I decided not to intrude further but focussed on the scenery as the plane began to adjust to the flight path.

Twenty minutes later while waiting for our baggage Lily’s phone rang. Cursing she explained there had been a hold up and her lift was going to be forty minutes late. ‘I have a taxi waiting,’ I explained, ‘if you are staying in Ljubljana you can ride with me. Give them a ring and arrange for them to pick you up at my hotel.’

Minutes later we were being whisked down surprisingly traffic free roads into the centre of Ljubljana.

I was lost in thought absorbing the scenery when the driver’s radio crackled into life. There ensued some general two-way banter accompanied by some ribald laughing. Lily nudged me and leaning forward spoke to the driver in what I could only assume was Slovene. I could see the diver’s eyes in the mirror. As he absorbed what Lily was saying he looked simultaneously embarrassed, flushed and perplexed. He mumbled something and continued driving. Lily leant back in her seat.

‘What was that all about,’ I enquired.

‘Well his controller asked him where he was and asked if he could make if to the railway station in twenty minutes time. He replied that it would be tight as he had two women in the back. One whom he explained had a hot arse he would like to bend over the bonnet (hood) and visit some indescribable indecency on and another he said who looked older than his granny.’

I laughed. ‘So what did you say?’

‘I told him that he wasn’t bending me over any car bonnet and that you were nowhere as old as you looked!’ We both laughed and looking up I could see the makings of a smile on the driver’s face.

Being somewhat slow it took a minute or two to register that Lily’s mastery of Slovene hardly fitted with my school teacher image.

Shortly after we arrived at my hotel and while I checked in I arranged for Lily to be served with a pot of tea. Ten minutes later her lift arrived. It was one of those touching re-unions that brought tears to your eyes. Both Lily and a similar aged woman called Apolonja who I was introduced to seemed quite overcome. Deciding to leave them to it I headed for the lift. Lily called after me: ‘What are you doing tonight? Before I could answer she added: ‘Apolonja and I will be here to pick you up about 8 o’clock.’ I nodded assent and entered the lift.



Having unpacked, with it still barely lunchtime, I grabbed a camera and set out to explore. Exiting the hotel onto the streets, Ljubljana looked much like any other Eastern Block city, utilitarian, litter free and surprisingly un-crowded. I headed downhill to what looked like the old quarter. In the distance a castle perched on a hill presided over the city.



The buildings appeared to be a mixture of Baroque and Hapsburg Vienna Secession, in some ways they reminded me of Graz and Salzburg in Austria.



Ljubljana is a university town and the country places great store on education, as a result university study costs next to nothing. The term had yet to begin but the ‘Freshers’ had already begun to arrive, anxious to soak up the academic atmosphere.



Every other person seemed to be reading something.



Minutes later I was accosted by a rather sassy and frisky young lady who offered to show me around the city. In the knowledge that there’s no such thing as a free lunch I declined. She looked rather disappointed but I commented her on her grasp of English which brightened her up considerably. Instead we sat on the steps for a few minutes and discussed Coldplay.



Soon I was increasingly absorbed in the varied architecture and cobbled streets…



Nevertheless I knew that readers of the Coffee Shop were less interested in Baroque than in knowing what the local women looked like. So I made a mental note to collect a representative sample, by eschewing the stunningly attractive and focussing more on what the average woman looked like. Most of the women seemed to be students doing what students do. They all looked fresh-faced and eager and as nation a rather attractive lot.



Having said that it was very difficult to ignore the contrasting architectural styles….



By now I was beginning to flag having started the day indecently early so I parked myself at a pavement café to absorb the comings and goings…..and even cast my eye over the odd waitress…….



The old quarter was pedestrianised so most of the students were moving around on bicycles which rather reminded me of my student days.



After a while I began to get a crick in the neck trying to absorb both the architecture and the women.



Most of the new students were working hard on that most quintessential of student skills –chilling out…..



…..others were busy marking the occasion for posterity. As someone who thoroughly enjoyed my student days I envied them. I almost expected them to break out into Gaudeamus Igitur.



One young lady who was trying to look like the height of chic, had so many keys I assumed she must be some kind of landlady.

I made it back to my hotel. Read through my notes for the following day and then slept for three hours. Later I met Lily and Apolonja in the lobby and I was given the choice of a local rock band in a dungeon or a café with chilled white wine and Tchaikovsky’s Serenade for Strings. I chose the later.

Later just before I headed back to my hotel Lily asked me if I would like an interpreter for my meeting in the morning. I nearly said ‘no’ as I knew the people we were meeting spoke English, but driven by some inexplicable instinct I said ‘yes’. My decision would prove prophetic……..to be continued.