In 2007 we went to Ljubljana in Slovenia and visited lovely Lake Bled in the Julian Alps. The local bus passed out of the city and into the countryside and passed through green meadows flanked by snow capped mountains, vivid green fields surrounding semi Alpine villages with traditional farmhouses and churches. Finally, after about an hour and twenty minutes on the efficient little bus we pulled into Bled and disembarked into the tourist town and the sunshine. We planned to walk around the lake but before we started we found a terrace bar for refreshments and debated the alternatives of clockwise or anti-clockwise (a bit like choosing a route around the M25) and we both agreed that anti-clockwise for some unknown reason seemed preferable.
Soon we started our expedition around the lake and set off as planned. The water was a pleasant turquoise, crystal clear and full of lazy fish resting under the shade of the trees and presumably appreciating and enjoying the fact that fishing here is strictly forbidden. Quite by chance we spotted something unusual sitting on a rock by the side of the water and upon investigation were surprised to see a Red Eared Terrapin. I tried to get close but this frightened it and it jumped into the water and swam away. And then we saw another. Red Eared Terrapins are not a natural species to the Europe, but have become common due to widespread release of imported pets by the public once it is realised that terrapins in captivity need a lot of care, as they can live to over forty years and they are aggressive, impart a painful bite, and become increasingly difficult to look after. After they are released into the wild they can grow quite large and can reach the size of a dinner plate and become a real nuisance, chomping their way through native species: fish, newts, toads, frogspawn, dragonfly larvae and, possibly, the occasional young duck.
The water looked inviting so we decided that we would hire a boat and row to the island in the lake with a church. It had been quite some time since I had been in charge of a boat and my rowing skills were a bit rusty when we cast off and I was called upon to do the Steve Redgrave thing and negotiate our passage across the short distance to the island. Rowing can be quite a lot more difficult than it looks and I had some early problems coordinating the actions of left and right hand oars to keep us progressing in a straight line and with Kim in charge of plotting the course I had to make frequent adjustments to maintain the right direction. I found it most helpful however when she began to beat out the rowing tempo in the manner of a Roman galley slave-master but I was worried that I might not be able to cope physically if she decided to up the pace to Ben Hur ramming speed!
We reached the island without incident even though I was slightly concerned by the strange sloshing sound of running water at the front of the boat, I believe the correct nautical term is stern, and I began to worry for a moment that we were certain to take on water and capsize but a quick inspection after we had moored up and with some difficulty left the boat put my mind at rest that this was really quite normal.
There are ninety-nine steps to the church at the top of the island and there is a tradition that if a bridegroom can carry his bride to the top without either stopping for breath or complaining then the couple will enjoy a happy marriage. If you are tempted to try this super-human feat my then my advice is that you get engaged to a skinny girlfriend because these steps represent seriously hard work just to get yourself to the top without any unnecessary additional burden. Or perhaps this is simply designed to get you ready for married life.
The island was an interesting little stop-over, it was apparently created one day as a punishment by God, who stopped by one time and was irritated to find his church full of cattle because the villages were suffering from the deadly sin of sloth and had become too lazy to watch over them and had left the church door open, so he made the lake so that in future they couldn’t get across to it. A nice story but in actual fact the lake is glacial and was formed at the end of the last ice age when water poured in behind the retreating ice.
We left the island and as Kim was convinced that rowing a boat was a straightforward process and that I was simply an incompetent oarsman she decided to take responsibility for the return journey. She was no better than me of course but I didn’t complain because I was enjoying sitting back in boat enjoying the warm sunshine and the slightly curious meandering route back to the shore. She did however make a perfect docking procedure and we completed our walk around the lake stopping on route for a pizza and a beer at a bar with a raised terrace and a good view over the lake and after that we completed our circumnavigation of the water and caught the bus back to Ljubljana.
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