My first castle

In the Postojna region is Predjama Castle - a medieval cave castle that has been retained as a museum, which brings alive the stories and lives of the inhabitants over the centuries. It lies on the edge of an old village, where locals still farm, rake the hay with wooden rakes, make dry cured salamis, brew their own liquors, and so on. 

Deep within this castle is an actual cave that the lords and knights retreated to if the defences of the castle were breeched. Records date the castle back to 1202, and the current day appearance was developed in the 16th century. The castle itself had a great reputation as being impenetrable, and during the 1400's Knight Erazem was besieged for over a year. However the castle has its own internal water source, was well stocked with food, and the rear cave allowed secret access to a neighbouring valley. Erazem taunted his enemies by sending them fresh supplies as gifts from time to time. When the local cherry trees were not yet ripe, he sent down fresh cherries that he had obtained from the neighbouring valley which was warmer, and so fruited earlier than the valley of Predjama. 

It was a great visit and Heather and I really enjoyed getting a sense of what life was like for medieval castle dwellers. From living in the cold and damp, pouring boiling oil and excrement onto the attackers, and seeing the well laid out living and kitchen facilities.

The castle toilet which hung out over the castle wlls

The torture chamber -we reckoned the screams and moans would carry all through the castle, so maybe they released the tension at night for a bit of peace and quiet

These are the actual rocks that were used for catapults and canons

more steps

From here we drove on hoping to stay at a small tourist apartment that provided onsite motor home camping near Brezje. Once again we hadn't had an email reply to enquires, but went anyway. We ended up in a typical tiny village, with narrow lanes, where houses and brick garden walls jutted out into the road. When the road grew even narrower, and I lost faith in the GPS and was reluctant to turn into an even smaller entry, I pulled to a stop and left heather to explore on foot. With help from the neighbours she found the property, only to find work men there. But they rung the owner, who reported that the place was under repair, but we were welcome to park up if we wanted. I was reluctant, as I had hoped this kind of more intimate location would give us opportunity to dine with the family and so on, and it felt dickey to just camp outside an unoccupied home in a very enclosed neighbourhood. So we decided to find our way back to visit the church in the village centre, and then make our way to an alternative destination.

The church, was actually a basilica, and so explained the enormous car park we had passed. We had wondered why there was so much parking for such a tiny village. Heather googled the church later in the day and we realised that the tiny side chapel which held at its centre a gold framed painting of Mary, had reportedly been the site for many miracles, and so had recently been proclaimed a pilgrimage church. Thus explaining all the parking, outside seating and facilities, and extensive church library and shops. 

Heather loved the small town, but I was less enamoured as I had been the one managing the narrow lanes, trying not to lose a wing mirror, and at one stage when I made a wrong turn, had to do man-oeuvre a 7 point turn on the entrance to a one way bridge. 

So when we reached the next town of Radovljica which had a camp ground we decided to stop. It was located beside the town pool, and as no one was at the camp reception, the pool lifeguard came over and said as the camp was empty we could pick any spot. Two other vans pulled up later that night, but it was pretty quiet. 

We took a stroll into the old town centre, and found the most delightful Gostilina that had been serving drinks and food since 1870. It was on the edge of town, overlooking a beautiful valley, just too sweet to pass by, so we stopped for a meal. The remaining single street of the old town was as quaint, and we joined the locals and visitors and enjoyed yet another gelato in the late evening sun before walking back to camp.