A most a-track-tive train

Be aware that Sunday trading is not commonplace in Vienna, especially in the Summer so most of the recommended cafés were closed. Within a few New York minutes of giving up on breakfast altogether, I stumbled across one that was open - open but busy. I had a 1230pm train and given my Czech taxi debacles I was in no mood for a repeat performance so was leaving the apartment promptly at 11:30am so packing at 11am and it was already 10am. Goodness me, I was becoming my own Big Brother. A concern that did not weigh on me for too long as I then congratulated myself for discovering a state both Orwellian and Freudian. The funny thing about this cafe is that it was filled with only one demographic; everyone, and I mean everyone, was elderly and possibly even octogenarian. I had a quick coffee and croissant as I fantastised what incredible train companions this entire restaurant would be.

The Viennese underground (an apparent misnomer as the majority of my journey was above ground) is slicker than a James Bond one liner and I arrived with plenty of time to spare. This was good news as I needed some time to shoot more video for the short movie I'm making about this trip. It requires fellow travelers holding signs up of where I'm going to next, and when I spied 2 girls with instrument cases I thought 'spot on, son'. Either they are violinists which works perfectly for Vienna, or, because you know what they used to say about violin cases, they are gun smugglers in which case, well, that was just cool. Katerina is from Ljubljana and was on her way home - she plays in the junior orchestra in Vienna when she's not at University studying music. We chatted briefly but then I made my way to another part of the train. Adjectives will fail me here but this was the Ferrari of trains. Journal writing heaven and I wasted no time getting finger to screen.

I spent a lot of time looking out of the window and wondering what tips I would pass on to others travelling this route and whether I was a good traveller. The answer to the latter is yes, and I know this because I don't have a bag with wheels. On this point I admit being a travel snob; I don't know whether it's the noise they make or the fact that they turn airports into obstacle courses but roller bags (and I'm really talking about hand luggage here), I just can't do. Call me a bluff old traditionalist but it's called hand luggage for a reason, and if that doesn't give you a clue then 'carry on' should. I'm half joking here but if I see someone actually carrying a smart piece of hand luggage, I have respect for them. I also think try and dress appropriately; train stations and airports are not your own living room people (!) so matching track suit bottoms and tops are wholly unacceptable, especially if they have glittery writing on them. A genuinely practical reason for dressing well is that if you are on your own in a foreign country then people are much more likely to help you if you are well dressed. That goes for most things honestly. I've now realized I have so many more of these but I'm going to save any travel tips until the end.

Musicians or gun smugglers - you just never can tell. Katerina (left) was luckily the former.... I think.

I knew I had to change close to the Slovenian border so I packed up and got ready for the dart across platforms knowing I had only 7 minutes changeover. As I boarded train number two to Ljubljana, I was happy to see Katerina side step into the same compartment as me. A Canadian girl called Melanie got in too. I don't know if it's like this through the country but the compartments are such that you are six to a confined booth and with Katerina and I already knowing each other, it wasn't long before the three of us all started chatting. Katerina told us about life in Slovenia which seemed fairly peaceful and pleasant to be honest. Cosy and idyllic (the capital city has about 300,000 residents and you are never far away from the countryside) are words that sprang to mind as we cruised through fields that suggested just the same, and obviously far less scarred than the other countries that made up former Yugoslavia who had suffered so badly in the early 90's. Katerina made the point that Slovenia was probably most like Croatia in culture given, when it was part of Yugoslavia, families from Ljubljana would go to the Dalmatian coast on holiday, and so the two territories naturally would mix. She also mentioned how totally unmissable Lake Bled is for anyone coming to Slovenia which came as a fairly large disappointment to me. Melanie had got off the train at the last stop about 10 minutes ago; the last stop had been lake Bled. Next time Gadget.

Now, if any of you ever come to Slovenia then do get in touch with Teja because this apartment I stayed in was worth the trip alone, and by far the best I have stayed in all trip. The city of Ljubljana is small enough to walk around in a day, made easier by the fact that the very centre of it is all pedestrianised, Teja's apartment being ideally located right in the centre at the foot of the castle. I was met by her and her husband who explained everything to me and that they lived 30 mins out of town but just text for any problems. They have 2 children and it turned out the next day was a big day in Slovenia and all schools go back on the same day and they had to go and get ready. I was going to learn more about the first day of school then I imagined.

I unpacked. I pretty much always fully unpack when I'm staying somewhere and make a point of having a place for everything within my bags so I know where everything goes. This probably docks me several good lad points but I can't help taking huge satisfaction from such organization. I thought for a second how Peter from Warsaw might pack: one black tie / tuxedo, a monocle, 2 hunting knives given to him by as yet undiscovered tribe leaders in the Amazon, 3 white shirts with mini assault rifles for collar stiffeners, Dr Livingstone's diaries, an iPhone 8 and a bottle of Krug for the pilot.....who inevitably just calls him Pete. Right, time me for dinner.

For dinner, I plumped for Gujzina and was not disappointed (http://www.prekmurska-gostilna.si). 20 meters from my front door, I loved the whole outdoor experience of sitting in the square watching people walk by. I ordered the cheese plate because it came with pumpkin seed bread and pumpkin seed oil which I love, but then in English 'a sprinkle of marijuana'. I thought that must be a typo, and I'm sure it was. The only thing high in that restaurant were my waiters trousers; seriously, I was surprised the kid could even walk properly. It had been a long day, and my nest of an apartment was just too luring. As an old matron used to say to us: lights out in 5, 4, 3, 2...... click.