"Alone portrait"
This morning offers better weather. All my things are dry again. Today I want to cycle in direction of Koper/Slovenia.
I cycle innumerable double bends uphill over the so-called Ucka-mountains.
In the meantime an highway was built which runs parallel to the Ucka-street. At this place where I would like to cross the highway, I don't find in any further way and ask a man who stands at the roadside and cuts branches from the bushes. He can't speak English but is able to speak very low German. I try to explain to him that I wouldn't like to cycle through the tunnel. Since I cycled several kilometres through a tunnel in Norway I never want to do this again.
He insists on this that I must drive on the "Autostrada". I indicate that I have to leave the highway before the tunnel. I rely trustingly on this information and cycle on the comfortable, light rising freeway. More exactly: A double-track street with crash barriers and traffic of not more than two cars per minute. After a long ride I see a signpost that says "Toll". Some meters far I can already see the tunnel. Well... I just can't believe it!
There is only a small way to a truck parking on the right. From there I find a track through the woods. After I've passed some dilapidated huts. I keep stubborn and at last I press my cycle over rocks. Any animal is in the bushes behind me. Gulp! Actually a lot of bears should be here...
However, it's more important that I finally can see the searched street over me. I manage it to raise my loaded cycle over a couple of lumps of rock on the street with last strength. In my surprise I notice that my whole underwear is bathed in sweat as if I have gone to take a bath. Since it becomes noticeably cooler on this height, I have to change my underwear here.
Finally I arrive the summit but then it begins to hail. But hail stops after a short time, fortunately. From here I get a wonderful look on the mountainous landscape of Istria. I can also see the highway below in the valley.
To cycle downhill isn't very easy. There are no crash barriers but a lot of rolling stone chippings I've to cycle 18% downhill.
I start slipping several times, however I survive it. Arrived in the valley I move on some kilometres on the highway. But the traffic increased hardly and so I decide in favour of the mountainous secondary road.
Some moments later I arrive at Buzet. This town is located very close to the border of Slovenia. On the mountain in the middle of this town I can see the castle, which is famous for truffles. From now the street begins to rise again. Absolutely without any scenic features I arrive Slovenia.
After I have driven a wide distance downhill again, I arrive a point of history: The intersection at Rizana. I already have passed this place two years ago when I was cycling from Hamburg to Slovenia. Gathered up I have cycled the full distance from Hamburg to Mali Losinj now! :o)
Yesterday I have talked with two campers for a long time. You gave me the tip to stop on the camping site of Ankaran near to Koper. Well, I gather up my last strength and steer for a while which isn't ending towards the camping site - closed!
That's really bad. The two other camping sites up to the border to Italy are closed, too. Slowly I'm going to get mad. I still drive therefore make hay about the limit to Italy. So I already have to go through the border today. Close to the border crossing is a camping site where I had been two years ago - closed, too!
The next ones are behind the city of Trieste. It's quite late in the evening and I remember how I have cursed this city two years ago. It's the total chaos for cyclists and I have required more than half a day to find out of the city two years ago. At last I was so despaired that I have kicked dents into crash barriers, in my rage.
Fortunately it's different today. I recognize many streets gratitude of my good memory and the orientation meaning and about some detours I get further. I ask somebody in the centre if he can describe me the way to the next camping site. He can't speak any foreign languages and so I try to ask him in Spanish. With partial success! On a handkerchief he draws me the way to the next camping site.
Behind the next smoky tunnel I see him again. He has overhauled me with his car and still would like giving me a new tip. He writes on the handkerchief: "Ostello della gioventi" - obviously the youth hostel. The camping sites are certainly closed and this would be only possibility.
Finally I have passed through the city und now I am on the coast street. The youth hostel is a beautiful castle at the coast. But at the reception there is a new surprise for me. I ask for a free room as friendly as possible. After some hesitation I get the answer in best English: "I'm afraid not".
The reason is that the JH is occupied completely. Such a bad luck only can happen to me! I still ask him some time for a possibility. But he tells me that the only possibility is a hotel room in the city. Without knowing what I shall do now, I get on move away. A hotel room isn't possible at all!
As I leave the JH somebody with long hair asks to me if I speak English. As it's generally, we notice fast that we both speak German. He already is standing here in front of the JH for some days with his mobile home. After I have described my situation he offers that I could stay in his mobile home. I can't believe my luck and immediately I accept the offer. The mobile home is an old Mercedes Truck with accommodation unit built up. Inside it's covered with wood. And after we have packed my baggage into the mobile home, we take evening meal.
He lives in this mobile home already for some years and was at a lot of different places in Europe. We talk till late in the night about the about different topics from the Bock-Saga in Finland, about school system to the current situation on the Balcans. But these are too much stories to write down.