Another day in the gorgeous Lake Bled, this one with a little twist – fed up with all the mountain driving, the motorhome has spat the dummy and leaked its coolant out. Along with a fan belt and other to here unknown complaints. Luckily it occurred just as we were pulling into a car park, rather than on a hairpin turn miles from anywhere. So there’s that to grateful for. I’m working on keeping that uppermost in mind instead of what I’d really like to do: cut a switch and give it an excellent Basil Faulty inspired thrashing.
Also fortunate, is the find of an extremely helpful workshop, where they speak English. The job is too big for them, but they arrange a tow truck to pick it up at 2 pm, leaving us to enjoy the morning by the lake.*. We also arrange a hotel for the evening.
By the time that’s organised, there’s not enough time for a walk around the lake or going up to the castle, but there is time to try the cream cake Bled is famous for.
It’s delicious, not too sweet, and it’s a great way of making friends with the local sparrows who have long since worked out that tourists + cream cakes = opportunity for puff pastry treats. They’re so tame they take treats out of our hands. It goes a long way to restore my mood.
The lake is looking stunning in the sun – we have to drag ourselves away to make our 2 pm appointment.
2 pm comes and goes as does 3, then 4. We’re kept in the loop: the repair before us took longer than thought (and had to be delivered), there’s an accident on the freeway etc. Finally, at 5 pm, it arrives and the process begins. But there’s a problem: not only does our tow bar dip too low to be lifted on the truck at the angle needed, but the truck is too small. I had queried this, mind, and been reassured that everyone knew what they were doing. Hmmmm.
To add to the drama, yet another large motorhome like ours, pulled into the same car park, only to promptly lose their clutch. Clearly, the car park is cursed. They were meant to be a follow up pick up in this same tow truck.
Much faffing around ensues, to conclude a new truck is needed: it will come at 8 am tomorrow. It’s well after 6 pm by this stage and freezing.
We set out for dinner – a classic Slovenian feast of chevapchichi for me and a mixed grill for Chris.
The serves are very generous here and the local wine is very good. Across the lake, the castle shimmers in a golden light. I’m determined to get there. Tomorrow, hopefully.
* Whine incessantly about why things break before I’ve finished with them.