9 October: carrots, bikes and génépi

For the first time since I arrived there are no guests and no campers. The season is winding down; as is the vegetable garden. In Anja’s absence, Polona sets us to work on the carrot patch. Yellow and orange specimens – mostly huge – yield to our forks and hands. 

Maria uses a traditional approach to carrying the carrots to the polytunnel, where they will be stored prior to sorting:

We have the mid-morning break on the terrace – usually the domain of the guests. Adjacent to us a local construction company are creating new decking. This is one example of the ongoing investment needed to run the business. Polona and Drejc are fortunate to have made the €1 million renovation of the main building before the cost-of-living hike in the last two years.

Looking across to the mountains, I think I can discern Češka koča hut. A week ago this was an anonymous facade. I love how the detail gradually reveals itself and intimacy builds. 

We are just about to start lunch when Drejc’s mobile alarm goes off. It is a call from the mountain rescue team. A (female) German hiker has herself into difficulty going up Virnikov Grintovec. Afterwards, we know that she was in a distressed state – freaked out by the challenge. I can easily understand how this might happen. In brochure descriptions the hikes I have done are classified as “easy” and anyone used to higher-altitude hikes elsewhere in the Alps might think these Slovenian peaks are a walk in the park. But everything makes them harder – the gradient, the lack of signage, the rough terrain, the inaccurate maps. 

We sit and chat with Drejc and Polona for a while and then take Drejc’s suggestion of a cycle ride to see a local tufa formation. As we cycle out the other side of Jezersko village, switchbacking down the bus route I came in on, we realise that we haven’t asked enough questions. It is significantly further than we have time for at that end of the afternoon – not to mention a return trip of several kilometres uphill. We have to make a u-turn and arrive back at base feeling rather ragged. 

At 6:30 there is no one in the kitchen but we haven’t been told to fend for ourselves so we are confused. “Let’s cook something”, says Maria. I haven’t had eggs for ages, so we raid the fridge. Halfway through making an omelette we are wrongfooted by Polona arriving. But it ends up a half-decent meal, chatting with Polona, and rounded off with Schnapps and a liqueur similar to the French génépi.