• October 1993 •
The Postojna Gate – as war strategists call it – is the lowest passage between the plain created by the River Po and the Pannonian Plain. The Etruscans and the Venetians, the Romans and the Avars, the Mongolians, the French and the Italians marched their troops over the Postojna serpentines to conquer the East or the West. An old Roman avia ran over this territory, and so did one of the first European railways connecting Vienna and Trieste. A part of the motorway, which is to span Europe from Barcelona to Kiev, has been ready for some time at Postojna. When, in a few years, the pan-European road project is completed, one of the main traffic routes – leading from Trieste, via Postojna, Ljubljana, Celje, Maribor and Lendava to Budapest – will cross Slovenia. Many people fear that the steel river rushing past forests and vineyards will bring only exhaust fumes, pollution and noise. Whoever steps on the accelerator pedal of a modern limousine will traverse the country in two hours without even noticing it.
However, this country deserves a closer look. Leaving the motorway soon after Trieste, one will find oneself in the heart of the Karst, a unique stony land with sinkholes and poljes and ragged pines, a land of harsh features and gentle people. The vines there yield wine as red as blood, and delicious ham matures in the harsh winds. Proud Lipizzaners, aristocratic studs, parading from Vienna to Madrid, come from there. Under the stony Karstic surface hides yet another enigmatic world with fairy-tale caves, limestone cathedrals, periodic lakes and subterranean concert halls embellished with stalagmites and stalactites.
Half an hour’s drive on lies one of the youngest new European metropolises. Ljubljana – “the beloved”, as its name could be translated into English – is an old town extending along the river encircling a hill with a castle perched on top. Bridges, adorned with bronze dragons and trees, which connect the old town squares with the Art nouveau sections, give the Slovenian capital a special charm. Austrian, Russian and Prussian emperors convened meetings in Ljubljana, and Gustav Mahler was head of the Ljubljana Philharmonic Society.
Towards the north the view is blocked by steep mountains concealing an unspoiled Alpine world with green valleys and crystal-clear lakes. In the south, the gently rolling hills invite you into their embrace. On top of each is a chapel, at the foot an inn, and their slopes are planted with vines. A little further towards the east the road sways over the Trojane pass to Štajersko, the land of the best wines, wild forests, vineyards on the sunny slopes and ancient towns. Travelling on, one notices storks on chimneys, a sure sign that the road has entered Prekmurje, a region on the fringe of the Pannonian Plain. The Protestants, chased away by the winds of Counter Reformation in the European south, managed to survive there and left their trace in that part of the world. Life in the plain is melancholic, the people are open, the songs loud and wine intoxicating.
Steel and asphalt lines criss-crossing Slovenia are not just forgotten tracks. They have their stations and crossings; they lead to the people, their history and culture, to factories and institutes, schools, theatres, two operas, the Academy, two universities… Slovenia is the venue of the world graphics biennial, it has a ski factory producing skis for world champions, numerous thermal spas, three airports and a seaport, silk lace, two thousand churches and four thousand restaurants, the mysterious “human fish” and four million diligent hands, as the posters inviting voters to the plebiscite said. Many people have yet to discover this little world hidden behind the Alps and bathed by the Adriatic Sea; this, through neglect forgotten, but precious part of the great European mosaic.
Europe plus!
Jure Apih
