In order to arrive on time at the Geography class I had to leave Igor at 6.30am. I was not in the best of moods for the commute back into Ljubljana, especially as I was limited to slow and bumpy cycle paths, surrounded by many others making their way to work.
Arriving at around half seven, I had a short time to work out what to say before I was before a class of slightly bewildered 17 and 18 year olds. I forgave them their curious amusement, knowing that if some idiot in lycra had stood in front of me on a Friday morning in Sixth Form I would have been far worse. In fact, many of them seemed quite interested in what I had to say and I took some good questions and kind wishes before I left. Before I could get on my way to Zagreb, I had to check my email and route. Unfortunately the school's internet was down and the nearby Tourist Information Centre (TIC, pronounced 'tits' in Slovene, which is not funny at all) did not open until 9 o'clock. I was irritated by this hold up but made the most of the extra time in Ljubljana by buying my fruit for the day from the central market and enjoying coffee and pastry in a pretty Plecnik arcade.
I was on the road by half past nine and after some difficulty leaving Ljubljana I found the bank of the river Sava which would lead me all the way to Zagreb. The trip in and out of the city had been about ten miles and since this was not progress, I chopped this from my total for the record. The Sava valley trip was my favourite leg of the trip so far. The road progressed down a steady decline and I felt like I was racing the fast, clear current beside me through the jagged, wooded valley. The surface was excellent, the sun high in the sky and the birds loud in my ears to keep me in good spirits and working hard. I arrived in Sevnica for lunch ahead of schedule and sugared myself up before returning to the road and leaving the mountains to take on the plain across the border.
There was a strong Westerly wind on which I sailed at great speed and with little effort and I reached the border ahead of schedule. At last I met a border guard who cared that I was entering his country and I was elated to receive my first passport stamp on leaving the European Union. The same guard then forbade me from taking a photo of myself at the border, before mollifying to my overcooked disappointment and taking the photo himself, a number of times to ensure a good shot.
With his best wishes I set out towards Zagreb, which lay less than 15 miles away. I took the last hour fairly easily, allowing my legs to stretch and loosen out before the weekend's rest.
I found the house of Dickie Probst, the brother of a friend, without much trouble and I was quickly taken out for supper in the center of town where I was invited to a wedding at a hillside castle the next night. A perfect day's cycling followed by a delightful evening. I could not have asked for more.
Distance covered 101 miles (=111 less 10 at Ljubljana)
