Ljubljana. The name is musical to us now, but I'm afraid it took days for me to learn the pronunciation. Looking at all those vowels, I tangled my tongue and gave up. Steve, who is generally better at such things, was also stumped for awhile. Pronunciation aside, however, we were intrigued by Ljubljana and wished we had more time to explore it. But having already lost too many hours to our late arrival from Villach, and being pretty much worn out, we didn't venture far beyond the city's old center, opting to sit in the late afternoon sun at a sidewalk cafe, sipping wine and watching passersby and all the activity in Preseren Square. Beautifully dressed young women walked by arm and arm, circled by young men on bicycles. A persistent vendor circled the tourists. Mothers pushing strollers corralled children through the pedestrian traffic. I could have sat there and watched it all for hours. It felt a bit like Paris on a very much smaller scale. Eventually,however, we gathered the strength to stroll up and down the banks of the river, crisscrossed by charming bridges decorated with flowers and lights. We picked a restaurant based on its riverside location and dined on the best gnocchi we ever tasted. After dinner, we wandered again along the river's banks, enjoying the reflections of the lights on the water before heading back to the B&B Slamic, intent on a good night's sleep before our early train ride to Zagreb.

A note on the B&B Slamic: Everyone we encountered there was friendly and especially helpful. We had to check out early, before breakfast was officially served but, no matter, we were offered coffee, juice, and delicious pastries anyway. Our room was attractive and comfortable, with an urban modern feel in an antique building. The location was an easy walk from the train station and also to the old city center. We would recommend this B&B to anyone visiting Ljubljana.

Whatever had caused our travel delay the day before had obviously not been resolved, because when we arrived at the station we found that the train to Zagreb was running over two hours late. We waited patiently on the platform, wishing we spoke whatever language was being used to broadcast travel updates on the public address system. After a while, however, a helpful family who was also waiting for the train to Zagreb came to our rescue and translated the latest info for us. From Finland, the father, mother, and two daughters all spoke perfect English and we passed an hour or so in pleasant conversation with them. "You must visit Lapland," one of the young woman suggested, and she went on to describe a part of the world we had never considered visiting before. Her enthusiasm was catching, and soon the rest of her family were convincing us that we needed to travel to Finland someday.

When the train finally arrived and we were boarding, a young woman who had been standing nearby asked, "Can I ride with you guys?" I had noticed her waiting rather impatiently, dressed in sleek black business attire, with her cell phone in constant use, the perfect picture of a European businesswoman. It turned out that she was from Arkansas. She was living in Ljubljana with her husband, working as a consultant in the retail business, and was full of good information about not just Slovenia and Croatia, but other parts of the world where she had lived and worked since graduating from college. When I asked her if she had a favorite place, she answered without hesitation, St. Petersburg, Russia. "You should visit it," she said, "It is fabulous!" Ah, Finland, then Russia. What a trip that would be! Amazing how things sometimes come together.

The three of us were just settling into our compartment when the door slid open and a tall, older man entered, smiling and nodding, and sat down in a seat by the window next to me. He was silent for most of the trip, as we chatted away with our new friend from Arkansas. At the Croatian border,the train halted and several stern and unsmiling policemen boarded to check passports and travel documents. They spent several unsettling minutes going through our young friend's passport, overloaded as it was with stamps and various visas. Then they quizzed the older gentleman with abrupt, accusatory voices. Except for a quick glance at our passports, they barely looked at Steve and me. It was after they moved on to the next compartment that the man next to me began to talk. His English was somewhat broken but we could understand him pretty well. He had been, he said, imprisoned for 6 years by the communist government. He never knew what he was accused of, but he was told he would ultimately be executed for his crimes. I think he must have been an academic, because he expounded passionately about the dangers of intellectual thinking, learning and teaching, in a communist state. "I was in prison for 6 years and I never knew why," he told us over and over again, growing more agitated each time. We just listened and gradually he calmed down, shifting his focus to the United States, lecturing us politely about where our foreign policy might be going wrong. I got the impression that the American government had let him down sometime in the past. But putting foreign relations aside, he had a story to tell and he seemed desperate for us to listen. He was teaching again, perhaps, in a way he couldn't teach before, and as a teacher, he wanted all who listened to learn from his story. Hopefully, he will continue to teach that lesson as long as he can and hopefully people will continue to listen.

We had planned to pick up an Auto Europe rental car at the train station in Zagreb, making arrangements via e-mails. We were told we would be met, when we left the train, by someone holding up a sign with our name on it. Realizing how late we would be, we called the contact number we had been given, and were reassured that someone would be there when our train finally arrived. Sure enough, we were met by an efficient young woman who filled out the rental agreement with us, using a window ledge at the tourist office as a makeshift desk. She then escorted us to the curb where a pleasant young man handed us the keys. Wishing us a safe trip, they both disappeared down the street and Steve edged the car out into traffic. Once we were free of the city, we had smooth sailing all the way to Plitvice Lakes, a few hours away.

Years ago, I had seen a short travel documentary on Plitvice Lakes and determined if we ever made it to Croatia we would have to include this amazing place in our itinerary. We arrived in the mid afternoon on a warm, gray, overcast day. Once we checked into our hotel, the Hotel Plitvice, it was a short walk downhill to the park entrance. With a few hours before the park closed, we decided to take the boat straight across Lake Kosjak and hike up through the Upper Lakes. As soon as we docked, we were surrounded by falling water everywhere, from minor drips to rushing streams. Wooden stairs and walkways led up and we eagerly set out on the path. Being from upstate New York ("Ithaca is Gorges!") we live near some pretty nice waterfalls, but they are mostly formed by creeks channeled through ravines and cascading over rocks and boulders. The Plitvice waterfalls, created by overflowing lakes of amazing clarity and color, were a whole new experience. The water spills both high and low in lovely patterns, fans and ribbons. Every turn in the path revealed water, either still as glass or exercising itself with some new and beautiful movement. After stopping for many photo opportunities, we managed to work our way to the top of the Upper Lakes and catch what might have been the last shuttle bus of the day back to the park entrance.

The Hotel Plitvice has been described as some as "communist block" style, and it was worn around the edges, but the staff was friendly and the location was good for visiting the park. Because we were staying there, our park pass was good for 2 days, allowing us to hike the Lower Lakes area early the next morning. One note: on the unseasonably warm and humid night in May we spent at the Hotel Plitvice, our room was really hot. We opened the window but there was little breeze and the room never really cooled off, making for uncomfortable sleeping.

We ate dinner that night at the Restaurant Poljana. We were seated outside at picnic tables and we enjoyed our meal of grilled meats with fries and salad.

Our morning hike through the Lower Lakes was just as interesting as the Upper Lakes. The startling colors of these lakes were really striking, especially viewed from the top of the trail, varying from electric greens to gorgeously pure blues. The boardwalks of the lower lakes were winding and extensive and fun in themselves. More photos and a few hours later, we returned to the hotel, loaded the car and set out on our way to Istria and the town of Rovinj, our base for the next three days in Croatia.

We followed TomTom's directions from Plitvice and soon found ourselves on narrow, winding roads heading over the mountains toward the coast. Every few miles, we'd pass through a little town, usually just a cluster of houses close to the road. Steve commented on the sad state of disrepair of many of the houses as we drove by, and it took us awhile before we realized why these homes were abandoned. It was not neglect and unfinished construction, which was our first guess, but bullet holes and bombs that left these homes uninhabitable. This area had been the front line in the war between the Croats and the Serbs, and many Serbs had left their homes, never to return. The war ended, but the houses stand empty, sad reminders again of the dark side of human nature.

We arrived in Rovinj in the late afternoon, and soon checked into our apartment, LaCarera #9. We were disappointed to be bumped from #3, Porta Antica, which gets rave reviews on this site and others, but because we were only booking for 3 nights, the 7 night rental took priority, as the rental contract said it would. LaCarera, however, was fine for us, with a interesting harbor view, comfortable accommodations, and a good location on a interesting little street of shops. We settled in, shopped for provisions, and cooked a nice little dinner of chicken and lovely fresh produce from a vendor in the town's outdoor market.

After dinner, we headed out to explore the town, and that is when the magic of Rovinj struck us full force. As the sun began to set, we walked toward the church of St. Euphemia, located on a point jutting out into the sea. As daylight faded, the sky and the remaining light turned luminescent pink, with a soft pearly glow that intensified into florescent pink then deep red before the sun sank out of view into the sea. Breath-taking, and I will never forget it. And we enjoyed an encore again the next night, and finally on our last night in Rovinj. After dinner, and a gelato from a street vendor, we would race every night to the piazza of St Euphemia to experience that incredible pearl-pink light and finally the sunset. Magical!

Our daytime hours in Rovinj were spent exploring the town and a bit of the Istrian peninsula. On day one, we drove to Motovun, a picturesque little hill town within easy driving distance from Rovinj. The day was beautiful and the countryside on the way was a lovely combination of vineyards and gardens surrounding small farm houses. We drove up the steep roadway to Motovun, parked in a convenient lot outside the walls, and spent an hour or so ambling through the town and taking pictures of the spectacular views. After enjoying a coffee at a outside table next to the town wall, we headed back to Rovinj for a leisurely afternoon exploring that town.

On day two in Rovinj, we rented bikes and headed out of town on a bike path that took us along the shore line of the Golden Cape and past pretty beaches with plenty of space for sunbathing. Feeling good about the exercise, we shopped for the ingredients for that night's dinner after we dropped off our bikes. One of the best things about apartment rentals for us is the ability to cook for ourselves using local products we purchase at the little markets nearby. This night, we enjoyed pouched fish with a salad, spring peas, and beautiful strawberries for dessert.

We left Rovinj by ferry early on our third morning en route to Venice. This was our second visit to Venice and we only had 2 nights and one full day to visit some of the sites we missed the first time. But we put our time to good use and enjoyed ourselves even more on this trip.

Arriving in Venice via ferry across the Adriatic is the perfect approach. The gradual encroachment of shoreline after the expanse of water offered a preview of what was to come, and everyone on the boat was looking in the right direction when the first glimpse of Venice came into view. And lucky for all of us, a gondola regatta was in progress and we got lots more than we bargained for, as men in period costume navigated their boats in practice rounds for the main events planned for the next day.

Last time we visited Venice, we stayed in a prominent hotel not far from St. Mark's Square. This time, our hotel was the Palazzo Guardi, a small, family-owned hotel not far from the Accademia in the Dorsoduro section of the city. I must say, it was exceedingly hard to find. With map in hand, we asked for directions at least 3 times from shopkeepers, and even a policeman, before we found our way down the very narrow alley that led to the hotel entrance. But our stay there was definitely worth the effort. Research on the Fodors forum had advised us to book Room #4, with a canal view. As soon as we checked in and were shown to our room, I flung open the large, heavy windows overlooking the San Trovaso canal, and the simple churchyard piazza across the way. And, from that moment, I would sit at those windows whenever possible, watching the traffic on the canal, and the people strolling through the piazza. It was one of the best and most interesting hotel views I have ever enjoyed, and certainly made Venice seem like a real city and so much more than a simple tourist destination.

On our first trip to Venice, we had missed a visit to the Doge's Palace, and we made sure to tour that site on this trip, along with a trip up the Campanile via elevator, where we could view, off in the distance, the gondolas we had watched the day before at practice, competing in the grand regatta.

The day was heating up, especially warm for May, as we left St. Mark's Square. We headed back to our cool, shaded room for a midday siesta before heading out again to tour Ca'Rezzonico, a lovely museum with the feel of a well-appointed home of the eighteenth century. Wandering through the rooms at a languid pace, I was happy to pause and take it all in, and so I was startled to hear the call for closing.

That night at dinner, at a modest place along the Grand Canal not far from our hotel, the unseasonably warm weather culminated, as it will, into a approaching thunderstorm, which sent waiters scattering for cover and shut down the dinner service. The storm, with all its bluster, never amounted to much, but gave our last night in Venice a real dramatic conclusion.

From Venice the next morning, we flew to London, for one night before heading home. We booked our hotel on Priceline, which we had never done before. Must have been beginners luck - we booked the Trafalgar Hilton for $113 US dollars. The room was upscale modern and the location was wonderful. After checking in, we walked across the square to visit the National Gallery. Unknown to us, it was a bank holiday, and the place was packed. But we enjoyed the holiday atmosphere, which transformed the square into a big outdoor theater with street performers vying for attention and tips. It was unexpected and fun.

After a very average pub dinner, (can I admit I ordered fish and chips and it wasn't very good?) we settled into our room and set the clock for an early wake up and the beginning of the long trip home the next morning. The flight home always seems ten times longer than the flight at the start of our vacation. But it also offers a good opportunity to reflect on all we experienced and enjoyed. And this trip was one of the best!

Postscript: In July, Cassie and Matt thrilled us with the news that they were expecting a baby, an event we had all longed for. Lincoln Matthew was born in February, in the middle of a snowstorm. He is a beautiful, healthy, and much loved baby boy!

Thanks so much for the trip report! And congratulations on the new baby!