I realize how fortunate I am to be able to travel and experience the magic of the world, but it doesn’t always go as planned.
Since my first visit to Italy years ago, I have enjoyed the crisp, fresh, wonderfulness that is a glass of Prosecco, a sparkling wine, first named in the sixteenth century, in the area of Trieste a part of the northeastern region of the country. Having never been there, we planned a short stay. To my surprise, I found a guided trip, Prosecco’s Roots & the Karst Region from Trieste. The description begins, “Visit the town of Prosecco on this day trip from Trieste, and pay homage to its sparkling wine that’s loved around the world.” Reviews were positive so I booked and paid, $151.82 a person for a chance to learn about and taste Prosecco as well as travel to the Karst region of Slovenia.
Struggles began immediately with figuring out where to be picked up for our trip. We chose to stay at a hotel north of Trieste on the Adriatic Sea. On the map, Prosecco was directly east of us, so I called and asked if we could meet the bus there. After a confusing discussion, it was decided that I’d better stick with my original meeting point, a hotel in Trieste (Option 1 of their directions). The booking agent, then sent an email that I was to meet them at the Pier across the street from the hotel by a statue (Option 2 of their directions). Mike located this easily on a map and we set out. One problem! Unless you are part of a cruise, people are not allowed at the pier. We could see our group at a distance but three Italian guards would not permit us to move. I called again and eventually a representative of the company arrived, spoke to the guards, and took us to the group. He said that the men were only doing their job. I explained that I believed that is was his fault that we were there, as I had stated twice I would go to the hotel (Option 1). He smiled and walked away.
Our guide was a young Slovenian man named Dean, who was quite congenial and guided us to the bus. We drove around a bit through historic Trieste and then ventured north and got to a point, where we should have turned right to go to Prosecco, instead we turned left and ended up at a large church that towers above the valley where Trieste lays, Santuario di Monte Grisa.
After a lengthy, steep climb of many stairs we were directed to a lookout which gave a panoramic view of the valley. After that, visitors were encouraged to explore the church and if you wanted a glass of prosecco, a bar located next to the church, sold glasses. Dean hinted though, that he had a surprise for us later. I avoided the bar, Mike enjoyed a coffee, and thought that we would be heading to the vineyard next.
Nope, we traveled along a narrow winding road and entered Slovenia, a country formerly part of Yugoslavia. Based on our guide’s account, the people are deeply faithful, retain old traditions, but are quite proud of the Slovenians who have excelled in international endeavors. The bus stopped and we began a long climb up to the medieval town of Štanjel, where for the next hour the group walked steep paths around the perimeter of the town, through the The Ferrari Garden, designed by Max Fabiani, a renown Slovenian architect. Our stops were just long enough to snap photos and off we went. Unfortunately, I have not kept myself in shape to do this easily and lagged behind the group most of the way.
The last part of the trip was a visit to a winery for a tasting with charcuterie. Tired and overheated by this point, the last thing I wanted was alcohol. Our group of eighteen were squeezed together at one long table in front of the door. In addition to close quarters, the heat was on despite the outside temperatures being in the low 60s. Mike enjoyed the offerings, but I escaped outside to cool down and enjoyed the scenery. Out itinerary mentioned another town but Mike whispered to me that we weren’t going anywhere else. I did have a chance to speak to Dean about expectations versus reality and he said, he was just doing what his bosses asked. In other words, what better way to encourage visitors to Slovenia than to mention drinking Prosecco.
I told myself it was enough to see new sights and enjoy the beautiful day, but at over $300 I could have done this at a much cheaper rate. The next morning, Mike brought me a glass of prosecco from the breakfast buffet, saying he thought I should have at least one glass before we left. I smiled, because that is one of the many reasons I have loved this man for over fifty years, he knows me and knows how to have fun.
Some incidentals of the trip. We had to leave late in the day for Trieste, which is a six hour drive, so I booked a hotel midway there in the town of Ferrara. We stayed at Casaforte La Bastide, a B&B that has been in the owner’s family since the middle ages. It began as a tower to watch approaching Venetians.
When we arrived at our hotel along the Adriatic, it was almost past lunch, so we were quite hungry. We share a branzino, a European Sea Bass, with two fresh salads, some roasted potatoes, and a glass of Pinot Grigio. The fish was freshly prepared and then deboned in front of us.
