ITCHY FEET TRAVELS

Bled, Slovenia

June 4, 2025

In northwestern Solvenia rise the Julian Alps. Although not very high, snow still lies on the flanks of the tallest mountains and the lower reaches are dotted with villages. On the shores of Lake Bled is one such village, also called Bled. Vestiges of the old village still live. It is in the bell tower of the church rising tall among the slate roofs, in the tiny vegetable gardens of some houses, in the riot of flowers in the windowboxes, in the wooden balocnies that remind me of Siberia.

St. Martin’s church with its tall bell tower is a mix of gothic and later baroque. The shrine out front is unusual and designed by none other than Joze Plecnik but it is the artwork on roof and walls in the interior that takes me by surprise. The intricate geometric designs are a muted version of what I saw in Uzbekistan or Iran or any of the neighboring countries! The famed artist Slavko Pengov supposedly drew on myriad styles so perhaps it is not so strange after all.

But most come here for the lake. “The most beautiful lake in the world” extols a poster, the sentiment also parroted by some locals. If not quite true, it is certainly pretty. The Bled castle, built in the 11^th century CE looms over the lake from its limestone perch, seemingly unreachable. It is visible from just about every point as I walk around the lake.

A path leads up through the foliage and I climb up the stairs. The view of the valley is wonderful despite the lowering sky.

The tiny island on the lake is almost entirely taken over by a church, its ninety nine steps leading down to the water. Accessible only by boat, there are plenty of tourists who are rowed there. I decided viewing it from different points of the shore more than sufficient.

This might have been idyllic once upon a time but there is a distinctly Disneyesque feel today. The entire western shore is spread with concrete monstrosities, while to the south is a clearcut slope for toboganning. The horse buggies make the trip around the lakeshore competing with a toy train making the same rounds. And of course the holiday is not quite done without being immortalized within the frame of a gigantic heart sign.

I was told to visit the nearby lake Bohinj, supposedly more beautiful and less touristy. And so I hopped on a bus along with plenty others. Touristed too albeit not quite to the same degree, it was indeed beautiful.

The sunny day was a bonus making the blues and greens of the lake sparkle, edging into pale yellow and gold in the shallows. I sat on a rock under the old stone bridge and whiled away a couple of hours.