Dancing with the Gods

The weather gods, that is. Yet again, we biked through welcome sunshine and clear skies, arrived at our next hotel around 1:00 pm and within ten minutes, the thunder boomed, the lightning flashed and the deluge came. We had stopped at a café earlier for a drink and had we decided to lunch there, we would have arrived drenched to the bone. Someone seems to be looking out for us. 

 

Last night, went to a pizza restaurant which in Slovenia can mean something quite different from Domino’s or Pizza Hut. Or even your favorite local pizza place in your hometown. These pizzas are made in wood-fired ovens with an exquisite charred crust and fresh ingredients often added when the pizza comes out. Truly a work of art. 

 

Just before dinner, I asked the person at hotel reception if she had change for my doomed 500 Euro bill (see the post Sun, Rain and Big Bills).  She took it without hesitation, counting out some 100’s and 50’s, gave me a momentary scare when she looked at it a bit more closely and then just tucked in to the other bills in her wallet. Yeah! Life was good again. 

 

It's mid-afternoon now in our new hotel out in the countryside, no other buildings close by and the rain unrelenting. A good time to write some more, finish my book and hey, maybe I should book those flights to China in August that I’ve been putting off. 

 

Most of today’s ride captured in the first little poem I wrote all trip, but there was an interesting moment sipping our sparkling waters and lemonades (1.25 Euros each! What a bargain!) when we met a biker who also stopped there. Conversation began, as it does, and it turns out he’s from San Anselmo, just across the bridge from San Francisco! He was biking with a young German man he met on the trip and the two of them were the real deal, having brought their own bikes and just followed their nose from place to place, no pre-set paths and no reservations at the hostels or campground where they stayed. Made us feel a bit sheepish and unadventurous and this man also retired, so not that young! He said he has biked in 42 countries and Slovenia is now his favorite. Cars sharing the road politely, people warm and friendly and as we know, simply gorgeous countryside. 

 

That’s the report, such as it is, followed soon by the first-draft poem.

 

PS The second departed soul I mention in the poem is Joe Sam, a vibrant black artist who was a parent at our school and simply a lovely human being. He was 86 years old. R.I.P.