En route to the bus station (much shorter now that I knew where I was), I stumbled on a wine shop where people filled receptacles with wine from hoses connected to what strongly resembled gas pumps. These people know how to deliver wine!! The southern vineyards produce white Malvazija, Chardonnay and red Refosk...all perfectly acceptable (except for the bottle of rotgut I mistakenly chose at a market, which gave me a serious headache).

The last day I had almost decided to go to the more popular Postojhna caves, figuring transportation would be easier. Indeed, they are better known, but people I had talked to and guidebooks said that the the Skocjan caves would be better. At breakfast I reread my 1995 Lonely Planet loaned book and decided to try for the latter. It was a short ride to Divaca where I stoshed my backpack in the office of a sympathetic station master, since all the coin-operated lockers were taken.

In the train station were green signs with hiker icons with "Skocjan caves" beside them, so I all-too-logically concluded that if I followed the green signs, I would end up at the caves. I did end up at caves, but not the ones intended. A vendor of peaches alongside his car assured me that it was easier to get to the caves by following the signs that said "Karst nature trail." I set off on a little path that was graced by moss-covered white rocks and other flora. I crossed a railroad track and went to the indicated cave, to find that it was open only once a week at 3 p.m. on Sundays.

I was lost...nowhere near the Skocjan caves I wanted to see. I backtracked to the highway and flagged a car. My usual instincts would say that this was not a person to get into a car with...he was unshaven, beer bellied, a laborer type whose car was full of junk. To hell with safety advice. I got in with him, and he turned out to be a really nice guy and fed me a piece of pizza while driving me to the door of the Skocjan caves. We spoke no mutual language, but managed. I gave him 1000 tolars ($5) saying "taxi," which he understood. I'm sure he didn't expect anything. Chalk another one up to serendipity, since I had a lovely hike on top of the ground (albeit in the wrong direction) AND explored sought-after, down-under caves. Picture-taking was not allowed in the caves, so go here to get an idea (although photos don't do justice). Tours are given according to language, Slovenes and Germans with one guide, English and Italians with another. Unfortunately, the Italians never stop talking, and there were two kids who never stopped screaming, so I wished I had been with the other group. In any case, it was a worthwhile experience.

That evening I recouped my backpack before the station closed and took the 5:03 p.m. train to Ljubljana. A taxi took me to Petra's place where I stayed the night. Such a nice welcome. She cooked dinner and had bought a Reisling wine from the area she grew up in. It was delicious. I conked out early, and the next day went for a walk in the park near her apartment. Off the path, I saw an impressive-looking pink-painted building which turned out to be a museum of contemporary Slovenia, a fitting closure to my trip. Petra and I went for lunch, then she drove me to the airport.

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