Holiday 1 of 4

Our inaugural holiday for 2026. Eight days, and I seemed to have a lot to say about every one of them. I plan to post two days at a time over the next week to get it all out of the way, then I’ll return to my usual sporadic schedule so you’re not so overwhelmed.

Day One – Monday, 11 May 2026 RAIN

Sod’s Law

Yippee! Hip-hip! Hooray! It’s holiday season! We go months without a break, then spend the next half of the year someplace else every few weeks. It’s our routine, and we’re pretty good at it. I have a printout of what to bring so I can make sure I have everything I need and, critically, bring it all back with me. There’s a spreadsheet with all the flight info and a file folder filled with holiday details. And being the security-conscious folks that we are, we always pack an extra set of clothes in our rucksacks on the off-chance the airline loses our suitcases. What could possibly go wrong?

I’ve been travelling like this for many years, and the airline has never lost my bags, so this time I decided to not bother carrying extra stuff in my rucksack and put it all in my suitcase. You know where this is going, don’t you?

The flight ended with me, and about twenty-seven other people, forlornly staring at an empty baggage carousel, slowly coming to the realisation that our cases were not going to join us. I don’t know about the others, but after regretful acceptance finally settled in my mind, my next thought was, “This is going to make a great blog.”

There followed a semi-panicked scrum at the admin desk, with tickets issued, forms filled in, and cases promised by Wednesday. Could have been worse. At least my wife’s case made it. (In fact—conspiracy theory time—most of the missing cases belong to people in our tour group, and it seems that every couple has one case missing; coincidence or some nefarious security intrusion?) Plot or not, after settling into our room, we headed into the rain (without a waterproof jacket, of course) to purchase essentials, along with about twenty-seven other people. It turned out to be a good bonding experience.

We are (sorry for not mentioning this earlier) at Lake Bled in Slovenia, a stunningly beautiful part of the world. We chose this location because we are aware that many more traditional tourist destinations are becoming over-crowded and we didn’t want to add to the problem. I figured a more out-of-the-way place like Slovenia would be a better choice. It seems, however, I waited a bit too long.

This area at the end of Lake Bled is sorta like Lake George, NY or Lake Guarda, except that the hotels in Lake George are not as chuck-a-block, and the densely packed Lake Guarda manages to hold on to much of its original charm. So far, I’m finding Bled almost as sterile as the Larnaca coast in Cyprus, but without the sunshine.

The hotel we’re staying at is a three-star hotel masquerading as a four-star, which means I’m going to give it a scathing review.

Normally, a hotel room is a hotel room. If it’s adequate, I don’t notice. I only notice if I am surprised by joy, such as our room in the Concord hotel, or by promised luxury that turns out to be an exaggeration. It’s like the taxi that took us to the airport: you arrange, they come, they drive, end of. But this time the car was amazing, with plush seats, soft lighting, pillows for headrests, and padded seat belts. It merited a compliment and a bigger tip. This room, however, is something of a disappointment. It’s small, there’s no place for your stuff (it’s a hotel room FFS, that’s their number one job), the tea-making facility is a joke (the biggest sin of all if you’re a Brit) and the mini-bar, which provides small bottles of expensive beer, does not supply a bottle opener.

The bathroom, however, while proportional to the size of the room, has some great features. The toilet, when it flushes, sounds like a Douglas F4D Skyray taking off, and the shower pressure is so powerful you could use it to de-feather a chicken, and the water is hot enough to cook it at the same time. So, full marks there.

But overall, it’s sub-standard for a four-star hotel; I’d put it somewhere between a Travelodge and a Premier Inn, though we do have a balcony and the view is spectacular, even in the rain.

Day Two – Tuesday, 12 May 2026 RAIN

For Want of an Adapter

We are told that, the day before we arrived, the sun was shining and it was 25C (77F). Since we’ve arrived, however, it’s been cold, grey and rainy, and this morning wind was added to the mix, meaning our trip to the church in the middle of Lake Bled was cancelled.

So, we visited the castle on the hill this morning and were then given the afternoon off.

I’m sure in more clement weather, Bled Castle—the 11th century clifftop castle overlooking Lake Bled, featuring a museum, restaurant and wine cellar—would look better, and the views from it would be spectacular, but it was so windy and wet and cold that I’m afraid I didn’t enjoy it as much as I might have. What struck me was how much outdoor spaces it had. I could have used a Great Hall with a roaring fire.

We’re to go to the church later in the week, Lord willing and the creek don’t rise (and the wind stops). We were given a primer on the whys and wherefores of the church, but all I could think about during the brief talk was, “What was the most important structure for the mediaeval people of this area? The Church. And where is the most inconvenient place to get to in this area? The Island. So, let’s build the church on the island.” They must have had their reasons.

After we’d had our fill of the castle, we were driven down the hill and released for the day. And so, my wife and I went in search of sustenance and a plug adapter.

Not being familiar with the area, and trying to navigate in a gale, we had a difficult time locating either. Relying on my phone app didn’t help, as all she did was tell me I was going in the wrong direction and that I needed to turn around and try again, even as I was standing inside the shop we’d been searching for.

Tragically, they did not have the item I needed. Nor did any other shop in the area.

It may come as a surprise to some of you but, when you go to another country, stuff you plug in at home cannot be plugged into wall sockets where you end up. To do so requires an adapter. With a single adapter, however, I can plug in my laptop, plug a USB tree into my laptop, and plug our phones, Garmin devices, and my hearing aid holster into that. But without that unassuming piece of kit, nothing can be plugged in, and everything runs out of power. And we are currently running on borrowed time. Literally.

At the awkward half hour where twenty-seven strangers stand around sipping tiny glasses of wine (a tradition called the “Welcome Drinks”) we happened to strike up a conversation with another couple about our missing cases. (They, too, were missing a case, as are almost all the couples on this trip.) While we were comparing inconveniences, I mentioned that, had I thought to put our power pack in my rucksack, we could at least charge our phones. The woman noted that they had a spare power pack and instructed her husband to fetch it.

It was a godsend, as I can now keep my hearing aids charged up, sparing my wife from having me continually leaning into her and asking, “What did she say?” Additionally, as all our tour information comes through our phones, being able to charge them is also handy. My laptop, however, cannot be charged, so if I suddenly go dark for a few days, you will know the battery finally gave out.

Currently, our clothes, shoes and jackets are drying and my laptop power gauge is reading 39% but we managed to get a cup of coffee each out of the tea making facilities, so we are able to sit in our room, dry and warm, and watch the sky clear and the sun shine now that the day is ending.