Now when I am writing I am staying on a rock and bathing my feet in the cold springlike water of the Adriatic sea. I am in Piran, a small town situated at the end of the world, in Slovenia. If you did not hear people speaking Slovene on the streets you would say that you are in Italy.
The narrow streets, the cats siting lazy on the window’s sill, the architecture, the Venetian smell of the streets (sometime) and the clothes hanging in the sun to dry, all of them remember me of Italy. And offer me that feeling of eternal holiday.
Piran is small. A full day is enough for visiting all the old churches, enjoy an ice cream in the Tartini square, talking a hike until up to the old city wall, walking on all the narrow streets, staying a half of hour and even more on a rock and enjoy the seaside.
Piran is one of those places where you are not in a rush. You can take your time to enjoy everything. The colors of houses, the shape of clouds, the nuances of a sunset, the taste of an ice cream.
It is not the most touristic and famous place of Slovenia, off course, but it is one of those small colorful places who can stick to your heart.