Ljubljana - camping ground

We are finally at the camping ground in Ljubljana, Slovenia, and after a glass of wine in the bar, and dinner in the motor home, all is well again.  

We set off from Lake Balaton, in brilliant weather, with blue skies and plenty of warmth.   We were reluctant to leave, but we have a schedule.   We have ground to cover before we arrive at Camping Manjastre on the 14th June.   So ever onwards.   

The motorway was empty, being Sunday morning, and of course no trucks on the roads either.

We stopped at the border to get diesel and a vignette for the Slovenian motorways.   There was free wifi at this service station so I was able to catch up on Facebook and emails while I waited for Walter.  And I minded the motorhome too.

 Then off again, into Slovenia, the land of mountains and rolling hills.  We had to get off the motorway for 20 kms due to road works, but still pleasant travelling as the countryside was lovely.   We were making good time too, and due to arrive at the campsite by 1.30 p.m.

 But what is this?   A line up of caravans and motorhomes.    We can go no further.    We had already tried three different ways of getting into the camping ground, but roads were blocked all around it.   A repeat performance of trying to get into the camping ground in Brno last weekend.

 But this time it is not a fair and fireworks, but a marathon cycling race, and the roads leading to, and on the circuit, were closed.   This time the kind policeman said he would mind the vans, if we wanted to walk to the camping ground and book in, but the road would not open again until 5 p.m.   No police escort this time.

 The camping ground was only 200 metres away, just around this corner.   So close, but so far.   I opened all the windows in the van, and read my book.    And dozed.     For three hours.   Walter booked in, and then spent the rest of the time talking to the Dutch people in the other vans.

Luckily Walter booked the van in, as there must have been 20 vans lined up, to go to the camping ground.  

I wonder why Dutch men of a certain age always stand with their hands on their hips, and watch as you put your van on your site.   It is so unnerving.