Hiking Mala Osojnica for the best view of Lake Bled, Slovenia

“This is where you get the best view of the lake”, the host at Vila Alpina said, marking the spot with a blue pen in the tourist map of Bled he was about to hand over to me, “If you go up to the castle, is the second best view, but here’s the best”. So, when I saw the first wooden post with an upward arrow signalling “Mala Osojnica”, I drank some water and moved on (read more about my walk around the lake here).

My host failed to mention that this hike is actually considered challenging. I suppose that bearing in mind hiking is a Slovenian hobby, for them, this was child’s play. But I must say I was relieved and felt somehow validated after seeing the description of Mala Osojnica in Google Maps below:

“Hilltop viewpoint, reached by a steep, challenging hike, offering iconic panoramas of Lake Bled”

Now, that would not have stopped me. But at least I would have been a little more mentally prepared for what was expected of me. Of my body. Especially when it was a 33 degrees Celsius kind of day. I was mostly alone for most of it. There were two other women in front of me, but they were left behind by my big steps into the wilderness. And then a French couple with a lovely dog, who was clearly too old for that sh*t, and whilst happy, kept stopping and lying down, clearly tired of the hike itself. It made me smile. Poor dog. And poor me. But at least my suffering was self-inflicted!

I also left them behind, and shortly after I was lost. Suddenly there were two paths in front of me and no signaling. I probably missed it somewhere where it was apparent, but when you are drenched in sweat and only slept about three hours the previous night you really can’t expect much from your brain. I was only appreciating that things could be a lot worse if I didn’t dedicate some time every week to spinning classes, allowing my body to be ready for such efforts. Thankfully, Google Maps saved me from the lost state I was in and then I saw it.

All of the pain, the tiredness, the sticky feel of sweat on my skin, knowing my hair was sticking out in all directions ‘ it was all gone. Nothing extraordinary in life is achieved without a bit of work – and my reward was right there. feeling humbled by the beauty of the lake, the beauty of that natural island, just sitting there, in the bluest of the waters the kind of blue that has all colours. The silence was brilliant too – I managed to be at that viewpoint alone for about fifteen minutes. The high temperature had made the climb harder, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how the shadow of the trees, its imperial crowns hanging over me, had protected me from the harsh sun radiation. There was, stunned, at 685 meters above sea level.

I can use so many words to describe that view, but not my photos, videos or words would make it any justice. It was therapeutic, I felt my muscles relaxing, my heart rate slowing down, and my ears being able to capture the peace that surrounded me at that moment. It was magnificent.

Thankfully and mostly because I was indeed oblivious that the worst part of the hike hadn’t been the way up. The worst was really about to come. It may seem strange, as the way up tends to be the hardest part, but for someone with vertigo like myself, going down very steep narrow paths, where it looks like a step in the wrong place will throw you into the abysm… well that did make me sweat. But in a different way. It was chilling. I was having seat chills like those you have when you have a fever.

I did not die, as it’s obvious, and I was incredibly proud of myself at the end of that scary way down the hill. Courage is about facing fears, no matter how small they may be.

After the climb, I headed back to my room and had a nice shower. All the sweat and the dust of the day, going down the drain. And then decided to have dinner at the restaurant nearby that the host had recommended. Sova is the name. He told me that was one of the best ones, but unfortunately in the past couple of months, their service wasn’t very good, a bit slow. As I was not in a hurry, and all I really wanted was to have some decent food and relax for a little while, I didn’t mind about a slow service. But alas, what I found was something a bit different.

I got there at around 7 p.m., and most tables were empty. I asked the waiter if I could have a table for one and he hesitated. I looked around – there were tables for groups but also tables that were perfect for single use. I didn’t see any labelling stating that those tables were reserved in any way. Was I for the first time ever being a victim of discrimination at a restaurant for being solo? I had heard about these stories before – how solo travellers sometimes struggle to find where to eat because restaurants don’t want to “waste” a table. I had been very lucky until then I thought. A guy who was sitting alone and finishing his food noticed it and said he was leaving and I could take his table. I was a bit baffled. The ground floor of the restaurant was basically empty. The waiter ended up telling me to sit at another table.

I soon realised it was not personal. I actually think they are struggling with staff – they don’t have enough, and so feel obliged to limit the number of guests and are probably trying to work off reservations only. I was sitting by the door and noticed how another solo woman was refused, and then a couple. I felt validated. So it was not about me. In the end, I ended up being lucky, but it didn’t mean I was happy. If they don’t want to accept guests, they should have a plaque at the entrance announcing they are only accepting reservations. The restaurant is one of the only ones on that side of the lake, with a very traditional look, and amazing reviews on Google. And the reviews are deserved – I ordered the traditional mushroom soup, and it was heavenly. I do hope they sort out whatever issues they are having, and can be honest with guests instead of refusing them. My theory was proven when on my way back to the accommodation, I passed by the restaurant and saw it was basically empty – they had probably only served for reservations and refused more people. It was about 8:30 p.m. on a Saturday – not a time when you’d expect one of the only restaurants in town to be absolutely empty.

I ended the day with a refreshing walk by the lake, admiring the night views, the reflections of the lights in the water, and totally with a feeling that I was in a goth novel, every time my eyes fell in the imponent rock that holds Bled castle. And the cherry on top of the cake – it was a full moon night. My favourite kind of night 🙂

Love,

Nic

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