What What.

Plum Torte season is here!

Last year was a low-yield year for the plum trees in the backyard. This year we’re plumdog millionaires. I baked this torte in honour of Yann’s 38th Yanniversary on the 26th. He’s more of a pie guy than a cake enthusiast, but as I don’t own a pie dish, I hope this was a good compromise.

While delivering the torte, I rescued this disgraced royal couple from a box labelled “FREE” on the side of the street.

There is a strong possibility this wasn’t purchased ironically, as there are still folks alive in this city who get goofy over the British royal family. At least it has entered my home with the utmost irony. Now I need to find an actual use for it. To store condoms? Then, when I get around to using a condom, I’ll whisper into the guy’s ear, “Reitmans.“

(I have a feeling this joke will go over most people’s heads, but I am keeping it in anyway.)

(The roomie’s suggestion was ribbon candy, which I think is somehow funnier.)

If the above wasn’t TMI enough for you, you’re in for a treat!

Day 5: 26km and 221m of elevation gain. Still no pooping.

What a backlog. I debated writing about my pooping issues on here. I mean, everybody poops, right?

Except for Laura when in Slovenia, apparently.

It wasn’t something I could keep hidden from the group, since we were together almost constantly, and I don’t think I could have convinced them that I just really liked prunes. By the third or fourth day, the group confessed that they’d never before been this invested in someone else’s bowel crisis. So, I hope the readers of my blog will be equally as rapt.

Before we rode out of Bovec, we headed into the city centre for a late lunch. We settled at a restaurant patio table so that the gang could fuel up on dubious-looking pizzas while I snacked on yet another bag of prunes. This time, the server didn’t take issue with my “outside” food and coerce me into ordering something.

While discussing the afternoon’s plans, we learned of another peculiarity about Slovenia: painkillers or other low-risk non-prescription products are unavailable at gas stations or supermarkets. The only place you can find such things is at a licensed pharmacy, and the one in Bovec had already closed for the day. So much for upgrading from prunes to glycerin bullets.

At any rate, the panic of being unwell enough to continue the trip had subsided. Ed’s revision of the route resulted in less than one-fifth of the originally planned elevation gain and a 21-kilometre reduction in distance. Additionally, Ed lightened my load by clipping my panniers to his rear rack. A drawback of the new route was that it put us on a busy—for Slovenia—road. Route 203 is a narrow, two-lane alpine road that connects Bovec and Kobarid through the Soča Valley.

Ed has since declared Slovenian drivers among the worst in Europe, and I have a feeling this was the day that solidified his opinion.

Around 20km into our meandering ride towards Kobarid, we found a giant orange machine nipping at our heels. I couldn’t make out the type of vehicle as I was only bold enough to do quick shoulder checks to see how close it’d crept up to us. All I remember is seeing a wall of orange as it closed in on us.

For accuracy’s sake, I asked the group via WhatsApp to relive their terror and describe the vehicle. Ed believes it was a mobile crane and that it was yellow. 100% sure, in fact.

Ed has forever committed to measuring things in percentages.

Throughout my time with him in London and Slovenia, Ed repeatedly demonstrated his uncanny ability to recall details from years ago. Had it been just the two of us, I’d have re-coloured the crane in my memory yellow.

I consulted the other members:

The tribe has spoken.

There had even been an escort vehicle to lead the crane along the road, for the safety of the crane driver and the others on the road, except for a group of degenerates on bicycles. The driver of the escort vehicle made the puzzling decision to overtake the four of us even though there was no way for the crane to pass. It felt like it took us forever to finally get out of the way, and I’m sure the crane operator would agree with that.

I remembered Hannah mentioning that she had heard some racket about us pulling over to let the ORANGE crane pass and asked her to elaborate.

“I think it was Ed yelling – we had no choice but to ignore him!“

There had been nowhere for us to stop.

Fatema added, “Ed had the panoramic view of our near death, so the sound effects were necessary.”

When my morning research for the nearest train station hit a dead end, I shifted to searching for overnight accommodation with a private bathroom and a proper bed, as the gang planned to camp another night. The least outrageously priced place was in Idrsko, about 2.5kms from Kobarid. I paid €155 for this:

If you’re wondering whether the answer to the question posed on the wall was found on the other side: no, just the washroom.

My love is… open to interpretation.

And if you’re wondering how much €155 is in Canadian dollars, it’s $250!

Day 6: 8km and 89m of elevation gain.

Had I needed to go to church, there was one right around the corner from where I was staying, but I required more than just the power of prayer. The nearest pharmacy was tucked into a back alley in Kobarid. I left my gear at the guest house and rode into Kobarid first thing in the morning. Ed, who was looking to purchase some paracetamol for a toothache, was already waiting by the bike rack.

Understandably, he had been concerned about my ability to find the pharmacy, as it could have been mistaken for a regular house if it were not for the little green cross sign.

To become a licensed pharmacist in Slovenia, you must complete a 5-year integrated Master’s degree in pharmacy, finish a practical internship, pass a national professional examination, and register with the appropriate professional chamber, even if only to dispense Frozen themed adhesive bandages or Eucerin. Apparently, Slovenians cannot be trusted not to abuse eczema cream.

When it was my turn, I showed the pharmacist my phone, which had a picture of the product I was looking for.

I pointed to the version I wanted. To ensure I understood which tablet was to be inserted into which orifice, the pharmacist pointed to her mouth and then her butt.

Ed and I were both pleased by how unabashed the pharmacist was with non-verbal communication.

I’d already hinted at the type I intended to purchase at the beginning of this post. If you glossed over that, here’s another clue: After five days of waiting, I needed the quickest option available. Besides, check-out time was 11am.

I left Idrsko right at 11am, feeling 50% better.

And with this, I am now 50% of the way through writing about our Slovenian Adventure.