Postcards from Slovenia

Hey Vern!

 dobro yootro ("good morning") from Maribor, Slovenia!

It's my first day here, and I'm dead tired.  After flying from Pasco to Salt Lake, Salt Lake to Atlanta, Atlanta to London, and London to Vienna, I got aboard a train in Vienna and rode another four hours through the Austrian countryside and through the Alps, crossing over into Slovenia in the middle of the night.  I have to say that being on a deserted train in the middle of nowhere, with uniformed and armed border guards asking me questions in a Slavic tongue I don't understand, brought on flashbacks to every cold war spy movie I've ever seen!   But somehow, we managed to avoid any international incidents, and I arrived in the university town of Maribor around midnight.   Much to my surprise, a cab driver was waiting there for me, to take me back to the hotel.  Kind of a nice touch.  NATO was a little stingy with the travel money, but at least it looks like they'll be taking good care of us while we're here!

The weather on the way was pretty dismal -- rain and fog much of the way -- and when we pulled into the train station here in Maribor, I could swear that I saw a few snowflakes falling.  Doesn't bode well for my fishing trip two days from now.

But as you can see, when I woke this morning the sun was out.  Maybe the rivers won't be too blown out.  And in the mean time, I have a paper to present, so I'd best get back to my hotel, and study my notes.

SB

Vernmeister --

Well, the conference is going well.  Since this is a NATO-sponsored event, we've got speakers here from each of the NATO countries, as well as several of the NATO candidate nations -- former eastern bloc nations as well as the English, the Finns, and the rest.  It makes for some interesting, if somewhat challenging conversations around the dinner table. 

This evening, on the second night of the conference, we attended a reception at the castle in the town of Ptuj (pronounced "ptoooey!").  That's the castle at the top of the hill, overlooking the river Drava.  Ptuj has been here since the Roman times, and had already passed it's prime in terms of political and geographic importance more than a thousand years ago. -- the castle itself was built in 1200 A.D., and has been added to over the years.   Although this is a young country (Slovenia only declared independence from Yugoslavia in 1990), the countryside has a rich history. But I have to say that it's aged well -- considering that Slovenia has spent most of it's history being occupied by everyone from the Romans to the Germans, Italians, and Hungarians, it has managed to hold on to a strong sense of identity.

The Drava is a slow, big and muddy river.  Hopefully this is not a sign of things to come tomorrow, when I finally get to head out on the fishing part of this trip.

SB

Crowmudgeon --

Couldn't resist another postcard from Ptujgrad (Ptuj Castle).  This is a view downriver from the castle itself, overlooking the town.  There are businesses in this town operating out of buildings that are more than a thousand years old.  Hard to fathom for those of us growing up out in the western US, with our abbreviated sense of history.  No wonder we have such short attention spans.

It was a little windy this afternoon, but hopefully the wind will die down in time for my fishing trip tomorrow. 

SB

OK Vern, this is the last one, I promise. 

Our group was the guest of the mayor of Ptuj here at the castle tonight.  Since Ptuj is in a wine growing region, of course that meant a lot of wine tasting.  I'm told it was quite good, but since alcohol doesn't mix well with the Butner gene pool, I stuck with water.  Needless to say the evening was sufficiently lubricated that we got back to the hotel quite late.  Six a.m. is going to arrive very soon, but I've got my usual pre-fishing trip jitters, so I may just have to sleep on the train I guess. 

Oh, and lest I forget: before we left for the castle, I spoke on the telephone with my guide, who lives in Ljubljana.  He said the rivers are still a bit high and off-color, but should be fishable.  We'll check out the Unec, which is apparently well known for having a healthy population of grayling that love dry flies. 

I don't stand a chance of sleeping tonight, do I?

SB

Vern --

Today's the big day!

I'm waiting for the train to the capital, Ljubljana, where I'll meet my guide for the day.  We spoke yesterday (did you get my card?) and I don't think he sounded too optimistic.  The country has been spared the floods that recently hit the Czech Republic, but they didn't escape the rains entirely.  The rivers are running high and according to Tomaz, they have a bit of color in them. 

Oh well, I've heard guides tell me that before -- it usually means the river's full of mud and it's time to break out the San Juan worm!  But though I'm no boy scout, I am prepared -- I put one in my fly box just in case.  I may be a dry fly fan(atic), but I didn't travel halfway across the world  to get skunked!

SB

Cripes!  I left October on the Yakima for this?!?   

That's the river Celje out the window of the train, about halfway between Maribor and Ljubljana.  It's running high, though surprisingly it doesn't seem to be too muddy.  I know it's hard to tell from a train racing past at 50 mph, but it lacks that brownish tint to the foam that we see on the Yakima when spring thaw comes. 

Weather is gray but not raining.  I'll bet the sun is shining in the canyon, and the October caddis are probably out in force.  Oh well, this will be an adventure. 

I hope.

SB

Vern --

Well, we won't be fishing the Unec today! 

That's the river Unec behind me, flowing beneath a bridge that was old when Lewis and Clark were floating the Columbia.  It seems pretty clear to me (certainly clearer than the Yakima in the summer time, for example) but Tomaz says it's too high to fish well, and since he seems to know this area very well, I'll take his word for it.

Too bad.  The Unec has a huge population of grayling, and I've read accounts of catching fish on nearly every cast.  Sounds like heaven for a dry fly fisherman like me.  But we'll go down the road a few miles to check out the Idrijca river, which is Tomaz's "home water."   Tomaz says it's a bit more challenging to fish, but at least we have a chance at a Marble Trout.

A Slovenian Grand Slam -- grayling, rainbow, brown and marble trout, all in one day!   Now that would be something to write home about!

SB

Crowmeister --

Here's where I'll be fishing today.  This is the Idrijca River, flowing through the village of Spodjna Idrija, about halfway between Ljubljana and the Italian border.  We arrived at this park in the middle of the town only to find two fly fishermen -- an Austrian and an Italian -- already occupying the prime water.  Tomaz joked that sometimes it seems like the occupations of WWII  have never really ended, it's just tourists now instead of soldiers. 

In any event, the Austrian gentleman landed two very nice browns while we watched and ate lunch.  There are rise rings up and down the river, and while it's nothing like the rock garden at the noon during a BWO hatch, I think it should be possible to catch some fish here.  We're headed up the river a few miles to the town of Idrija, where Tomaz knows a good place to try.

Oh, the other thing I was going to mention:  we haven't wet a line yet, and we've already had our licenses checked!  Apparently enforcement on the rivers is something the Slovenians take very seriously (what else would you expect from a country that actually has set aside some waters not only for fly fishing, but some are reserved for DRY fly fishing only!?!).   Apparently the rivers are managed semi-privately, mostly by fishing clubs.  Tomaz says it would cost you about $US 1,000 a year to maintain a permit for all the major rivers, but fortunately this is his club water, and he's allowed to bring guests here.  So today, I am his guest.

Let's go catch some fish now, shall we?

SB

Dude!  I caught a fish! 

Well, this is no wilderness experience.  We got to the small town of Idrija, and parked behind the Volkswagen dealership, where we climbed down the bank to the river.  The water is crystal clear, slow, and the fish are spooky, but despite the fact that I've never been very good at spotting fish, I can read a river. 

It reminds me of that line in the Maclean story:

"The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs."  

You know, it's a wonderful thing about rivers - they speak the same language all around the world.  Those words ring true this morning.  Here I am, 10,000 miles from home, in a country where I have to look at a phrase book just to say hello.  But one look at the river, and I can tell you where the fish are, where they'll be later when the bugs start hatching.   True, I nearly walked on top of a half-dozen grayling before I caught my first one -- the fish here blend into the bottom remarkably well!  But I managed to get a nice 16 inch grayling (my first ever!) on a dry fly, and shortly after, I hooked this nice brown that I'm fighting.  The fish are rising sporadically, to a small mayfly that looks like a BWO covered in soot.  I can see why Tomaz's flies are so prone to gothic colors!  But I caught mine on a good old U.S. of A. Sparkle dun, just like I use back home.  After all, nothing's better than catching a fish on a fly you tied yourself.

SB

OK, so three out of four ain't bad. 

I failed to get my Slovenian Grand Slam today -- the elusive Marble Trout lived up to their reputation, and eluded me.  Though Tomaz pointed out a few shadowy forms lurking near the bottom of the deeper pools, I can only take his word that they were Marble trout.  We floated a few nymphs past them -- but you know my attitude towards fishing nymphs: if a fish can't come to the surface the way nature intended, it just doesn't deserve to be caught. 

Well, these apparently didn't deserve to be caught.  But I did manage a couple of browns, a nice grayling, and a small rainbow, all on dry flies. 

Vern  -

Speaking of my guide, this is Tomaz Modic.  Tomaz works in a brewery in Ljubljana, but has dreams of running a bed and breakfast for rich fly fishing tourists.  He is perhaps the most fanatical fisherman I've ever met, and as you know, I've met a few.  His car is one of the few I saw on the roads that has a personalized plates. 

They read, simply, "IFish."

Tomaz has an advanced degree in fisheries biology, but there's not much work for fishery biologists in Slovenia.  He guides occasionally, but I get the impression it's more of a labor of love than a case of moonlighting.  He did an outstanding job of spotting fish for me, and all the other things a good guide should do, but by mid-day I could just tell that he was going nuts wishing he could pick up my leftovers.  So I convinced him to do some fishing himself, and it was quite a lesson.

Vern, this guy can cast like no one else I've seen!  We fished a fast water run down river from here, and I watched him feed out 70 feet of line casting in the wrong direction, then suddenly redirect the cast 180 degrees into a jumble of logs that would have made the best Yakima river stonefly specialist think twice.  He's got a great eye for fish as well, and he caught most of his fish casting small nymphs to what I would have sworn was empty water no more than a foot deep.  I wish I could get this guy on the Yakima and see what he could teach me about my own river.

SB

Vern --

Well, that was fun.  After fishing 'til nearly dark last night, we headed back to Ljubljana, doing 90 mph in Tomaz's little compact car through the twisting mountain roads.  We had a great dinner of seafood and rice (price: about $US 4.00) in a restaurant there, then settled up our affairs and I climbed back on the train to Maribor.

I'm heading home now,  already wishing I could go back.   The quiet beauty of the countryside here still amazes me, and the clarity of the rivers is astounding.  This country has redefined the word "unspoiled."  I thought a place had to be wild to be unspoiled, but while Slovenia has some wilderness, even the places that are settled seem to have escaped time to a large degree.  I've been here four days, and yes, I did see one McDonald's, but I saw few other signs of the encroaching sameness that seems to have overwhelmed so many places. 

I hope it can stay this way, for I plan on coming back.

SB 

Vern -

Well, it's  na sveedenye ("good bye") to Slovenia for now.  We're here at the border, and from here it's just 150 miles more to Wein Sudbahnhof (Vienna's South Station).  Once there,   I'll catch a flight back to London to meet up with Laura and the boys for a few days of tourist stuff before we head home.  I haven't heard from them since we parted ways in London four days ago.  I  hope they had a good time!

No question about it, I left a part of me behind on this trip. 

See you in a few days.  Save a few Yaki-trout for me.