“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I fumed as the bus slammed its doors and drove off, kicking up a cloud of dust that left a terrible taste in our mouths.
It’s safe to say that our day had not got off to the best of starts. We were staying near the shores of Lake Bled, the unrivalled jewel in Slovenia’s tourist crown. Our destination for the day, however, was the lesser-known Lake Bohinj.
Bohinj is just a 30-minute drive from Lake Bled. The straightforward road hurries visitors through traditional Alpine villages surrounded by rich, fertile fields. The looming peaks of the Julian Alps are a constant presence on the horizon.
The first bus of the day from Lake Bled to Bohinj left at 7:15am. We set an early morning alarm, rubbing the sleep from our eyes as we threw on our hiking gear, and set off for the short walk to the bus station.
An early morning mishap on the Bohinj bus
An eerie silence hung in the air. Mist enveloped the trees, clinging to the sides of the valleys as the sun struggled to break through. Birds heralded the start of a new day, unperturbed by our heavy footsteps on the tarmac as we paced down towards the bus stop.
The bus stop, set back from the road in a small layby next to the shore, was an unremarkable affair. A handful of traditional plenta boats bobbed in the water next to us, waiting for the inevitable deluge of visitors later in the day. Ducklings raced through the shallow water just beneath us, chirping excitedly as their proud mother led them into the long undergrowth.
A steady stream of vehicles trundled their way along the road as we waited for the bus to appear. Motorcyclists revelled in the open roads, their occasional engine bursts puncturing the otherwise quiet morning air. Somewhat more subtly, a small Pelton of lycra-glad cyclists swooshed past in one swift movement.
Eventually, fashionably late by ten minutes or so, the bus rounded the corner and made its way towards us. “BOHINJ” shone brightly on the front, and we flagged it down. The driver slowed down, pulling into the layby and bringing the bus to a halt.
As the doors swung open, I pulled out my wallet and stepped towards the entrance. As I did, the doors slammed shut in my face. A split second later, the engine spluttered into life, and the bus pulled away. In an instant, it had disappeared from sight.
Flabbergasted, we weren’t too sure what to do. Buses have been late, cancelled, and stuck in traffic. But never had they conspired to tantalise us with their presence before leaving us stranded.
What had we done wrong?
Read next: A spectacular hike up Wild Boar Fell in the Yorkshire Dales
A delayed arrival in Bohinj
We had an hour to kill until the next bus. Mercifully, this driver was somewhat more accommodating, and we eventually arrived in Bohinj just before 9am.
The last of the early morning fog was just about clinging to the tree line. Above us, the towering bulk of Triglav – Slovenia’s tallest peak – loomed menacingly amidst the clouds.
We planned to follow the trail around Lake Bohinj before returning by bus once more to Bled. We were relieved to see that, despite our delayed arrival, the streets were still quiet.
As we made our way to the water’s edge, we passed a local church dedicated to John the Baptist. With a gothic design dating back to the 15th century, the small church stands tall at the lake’s eastern shore, its tall white tower looming above the small collection of nearby houses and cafes. We peered through the locked gate before continuing to a small rocky beach.
The lake was quiet – much quieter than Bled. There was no sign of early swimmers, nor paddleboarders or kayaks. As we gazed over the water, we spotted a solitary boat floating inconspicuously just a short distance from the shore.
An older gentleman, his age betrayed by a shock of white hair, sat with his back to us, holding a fishing rod patiently over the edge of the narrow wooden vessel. We watched him for a couple of minutes as he sat stoically, barely moving an inch.
Read next: An overnight hike up Yr Wyddfa in Wales.
Following the path around Lake Bohinj
The trail led us into a thick section of woodland, ascending ever so slightly up a muddy path before dropping to meet the water once more. A small rocky outcrop offered the opportunity to take in the view, and we gazed back towards Bohinj village. As we turned to make our way back to the trail, a glimpse of movement caught our eyes.
Looking down, the water was alive with the twisting and frolicking of a vast shoal of fish. Several dozen darted around in the shallow waters before moving off – in one swift movement – to the anonymity of the darker, deeper section of the Lake.
At the far end of the lake stood a small community of well-appointed wooden huts, solidly built in classic alpine style. It was hard to tell whether these huts were occupied by local residents or rented out as holiday homes, but their well-tended gardens suggested permanent residents who took pride in their homes.
A stone’s throw away from the local houses, a new development left little doubt about its future use. Great sheets of corrugated metal hid much of the construction work from view. A sign, already weather-worn, promised a set of luxury holiday accommodation coming soon.
Despite its relative serenity compared to Lake Bled, Bohinj has attracted generations of holiday-makers, including celebrities and world leaders. Most recently, Boris Johnson, former Prime Minister of Great Britain, visited Bohinj on his honeymoon with his new wife, Carrie.
Read next: How to walk between Arnside and Warton in the beautiful Lancastrian countryside
Cable cars and campsites on the shores of Lake Bohinj
A little further up the lake, we saw the entrance to one of Bohinj’s star attractions. The Vogel Cable Car transports visitors nearly 1000m into the heart of the Julian Alps, from Bohinj (569m) to the ski centre at Vogel (1533m). With a journey time of between three to four minutes, a trip on the cable car is the ideal way to gain rapid height and enjoy immense views of Slovenia’s sublime mountain scenery.
As the first drops of rain began to splat against our faces, we were somewhat less enthusiastic about the prospect of paying 22 Euros for a return journey up into the ever-thickening cloud. We admired the system from afar before resuming our walk.
As we pressed on, we passed through one of the finest campsites we had seen in a long time. Visitors from Italy, Germany, Austria and beyond occupied all the vehicle pitches. A tremendous sprawling community of tents spread out into the woodland and onto the shore. Most campers were just starting their days, and the smell of freshly-made coffee and sizzling sausages filled the smokey air.
And on went the path. The route climbed away again, following the course of the tarmacked road to the campsite. This was, by some measure, the less picturesque side of Lake Bohinj to hike. There were, however, fleeting moments of interest.
Read next: Hiking around Lake Saint Anna in Romania
Meadows and motorboats
A small alpine meadow stood before the humble 18th-century church, built in typical baroque style. An impressive fresco adorned the white-washed walls, with biblical figures brought to life in muted pastel colours. The church doors were locked shut, adorned by a thin layer of dust and flanked by half a dozen fragile spider webs. We completed a lap of the walls before pressing on towards Bohinj.
Occasional viewpoints offered glimpses of increasing activity on the Lake as morning turned to noon. A kayaker glided past, appearing impossibly tiny against the backdrop of the steep slopes rising above the opposite shores. A small pleasure boat chugged slowly towards the end of the lake, carrying a handful of tourists who snapped happily away on smartphones and small cameras.
All this time, the quiet and stillness that greeted us when we arrived never abated.
When we arrived back in Bohinj, the heavens opened. A deluge, tropical and furious in its speed of arrival and intensity of downpour. We rushed for the shelter of the nearest treeline, stopping briefly to buy a couple of ice creams – you can take the Brits out of Britain and all that…
As the downpour waned, we made our way to the bus stop. Climbing the hill away from the lake, we spotted a single boat bobbing gently in the water. The same flash of white hair peeked out from under the boatman’s hood – the only change from the scene that had greeted us when we arrived earlier that morning. The fishing rod was still balanced delicately over the water. I wonder what he caught.
Read next