During a hiking trip to Slovenia I interrogate myself on why I find monogamy harder than mountain hiking.
Unbeknownst to me, Les Alps are not lesbian at all or the provenance of one country. They are monogamish, they let you think they belong to France but in fact they only French kiss. Arcing their sexy back from the South of France, through Italy, Swiss and Austria, before falling to their knees in Slovenia.
S-love-nia, love being the operative word there.
Slo-venia, slow being the speed you should fall in love.
Roughly, 3mph.
When you discover the final limestone protrusions of The Julian Alps that peter out in the North West of the country in Triglanski National Park, you discover beauty.
You are now compelled to protect it, claim it for yourself, for sure you will never find a more perfect lover. You immediately feel entitled, a reluctance to share grows and if undisturbed can lead to delusions of exclusivity. You begrudge the penetration of other people’s pitons or the worn trails of other lovers who have gone before and footed the bill. You want to be the first to trample summer wild flowers but Mount Triglav at 2,864m is an experienced lover. You are not the first to eye up it’s contours and fantasise your conquest.
Life is long and boring so don’t peak too soon.
Beside metaphors about polyamory, hiking the Slovenian Alps, (although they belong to no-one) has left a deep enough impression that I thought healthy to share.
Share.
Handicapped, I want to share so that we may continue a passionate affair secretly in public. Pertaining to hiking, I’ve thumbed my way this far I’m now nailing this trip having managed it with my full set still intact.
Of monogamy, lets imagine we ban and even shame the Aglais urticae butterfly for sticking its proboscis into more than one flower and allow me to unravel what kind of world disappears.
Of food, my favourites, Frika, homemade ravioli, bean soup, bean soup with sausage, chicken roulade, deerhoof and the ‘take it or leave it’ menu.
Slow trips are my kind of trips.
I joined the Alpa Adria trail in Kransjka Gora, walking the Russian Road.
The Russian Road was virgin footpath with untouched nature before world war #1 then Italy invaded Austria and it became a strategic route to the front line. 10,000 Russian POW built it under Austrian command but what do I know.
I walk the shaded path of Pine and Spruce forests, rhythmically pounding my mark until my mind body assholes joined me at the top and handed me a dose of visual arousal.
The source of the Soca River
One of the Seven Wonders of the world is hotel breakfast buffets. How many times can you return to the buffet table without anyone judging. The tapestry of sliced local cheeses, hams, goat curds and honey. Fruit & nuts & seeds and yesterdays leftovers displayed like a rockery garden, an array of breads and spreads and deep vats of hot wobbly eggs. The wheel of life, and the walks of shame.
Woodland wonders, microclimates, rain soaked knickers, forest jewel drops that glisten in the sun, wood chipped misted romances on the final ascent.
You’ve fattened up the caterpillar now you are supposed to let the butterfly dance with someone else?
Please Jolene please don’t go Slovene just because you can, he’s my mantain.
| Day 1 Kranjska Gora to Erjavceva Koca mountain hut | 10.3mi | +3,573ft -1,311ft | ||
| Day 2 Erjavceva Koca to Kekec | 8.3mi | +1,073ft -2,696ft | ||
| Day 3 Kekec Homestead to Bovec (e bike 10mi) | 25mi | +1,362ft – 2,720ft | ||
| Day 4 Bohinj Station to Lake Bohinj | 6.1mi | +596ft -525ft | ||
| Day 5 Lake Bohinj to Polijuka | 15.7mi | +2,995ft – 652ft | ||
| Day 6 Hotel Pokljuka to Mrezce | 10.4mi | + 2,369ft – 2,397ft |
majorloveme 
It looks beautiful.
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