A hotel with millions of stars

Some time ago, I started to read the old Indian stories of Karl May again. And, after reading some of the chapters, I instinctively knew, that this would have some consequences. And, a few mornings after reading, I asked Žiga if he would like to go to Polhograjc with me, to camp during the night – just like Winnetou did. Talking with Žiga is so uncomplicated, we already know each other for so long, that he no longer asks me questions like “Are you serious?” anymore. So we saved quite some valuable time not engraining in these kinds of debates and just went.

 

We left the pueblo at dawn and arrived at the ideal camping place at nightfall. First, we gathered enough firewood to start a fire, which was lying around in abundancy. Luckily, I went thought the procedure of making dinner on a camping site quite a few times in my head, because I didn’t want anything to go wrong. The stove heated up the pan quickly and we filled it to the brim with cracknels, to out delight – adding a few home-grown eggs from Mengeš for the final step. 

 

 

A happy smile and empty plates at the end, told us that the meal was really delicious. Putting on small branches of wood in the fire and an occasional deep debate along, pushed our mood on to the maximum level.

 

 

The moon chased away the remaining clouds, and the magic of the woods started to unfold right in front of our very eyes, a beauty which even Hitchcock would be envious of. All the nighty critters stayed away from our camping place, but their glowing eyes could be seen even so often in the distance, pondering about what these strange creatures at the fire might be. 

 

 

 

Time to go to sleep. Setting up our wigwam, or more like tent/bivouac was quite a task and demanded quite some imagination, to say the least. And although we went in early April, the woods were pleasantly warm. And underneath the tent shined the moon just for us.

 

 

 

I had my eyes firmly closed, but still felt my eyes opening at the sounds that started to unfold in the morning around us. The 1:0 results, in which my eyes won and my sleep lost, were interrupted by the howling and moaning of a deer close by. The deer was running around the tent outside, and I could only hope he wouldn’t catch himself in the ropes of the improvised tent. And the deer soon got some company of an owl, and together they plotted a conspiracy against me sleeping.

 

Because of the high concentration of oxygen, the sleep was short, but relaxing. I stood up at 5am and wandered a bit around to see where we were. At the east, the sun was beginning to shine through. The mountains Kamniški  hribi started to meddle into the light of the moon. And although we were in a hotel with millions of stars, there was no maid who would have cleaned up after us. So, we cleaned the mess ourselves and hid every sign that we were ever there. 

 

 

 

 

And once again we proven the theory that true adventures start at the other side of the humans comfort zones, far from the zone of a familiar, warm and comfy bed to sleep in.