More than once in my travels here, I've heard Slovenia described as “shaped like a chicken.” Today, I was headed to the eye of the chicken -Murska Sobota, the capital of the Prekmurje, a region of Slovenia described as “Flat land covered by cornfields.” Sounds like Iowa. Although I was looking forward to some flat land, I was feeling good after my rest day and so included a route option that would take me through the Goričko hills north of Murska Sobota.
My optimism for the day was due not only to some rest but perhaps more importantly to a pleasant change in the weather. A thunderstorm had rolled in last night, bringing cooler temperatures and a crispness to the morning air. It was ideal weather for cycling. The first five miles were a reverse of yesterday’s route, taking me up to Jeruzalem and down towards Ljutomer, before skirting the town and heading northeast through the small farming towns of the Prekmurje. The scenery was largely uninteresting, but sun soon drove away the morning clouds and the cycling was effortless – I was thoroughly enjoying life.
The Prekmurje region borders both Croatia and Hungary and is considered one of the most diverse region of Slovenia, both ethnically and linguistically. It also seems to be one of the least populated and poorest regions of Slovenia. This was especially evident once I crossed the Mura River and got closer to the Hungarian border. I took a short detour into the town of Gomilica where I picked up a couple of snacks and just past Turnišče stopped at a roadside picnic area for a short break.
Morning after a rainstorm in the Jeruzalem wine country
A young lad and his mother visited the small picnic area while I was snacking. He was more interested in feeding the fish than in smiling for a picture
I had made good time on the flat lands of Prekmurje and would soon come to the decision point of turning west for a short ride to Murska Sobota, or continuing north into the Goričko hills. It was not yet noon, I was feeling strong, and I did not want to shorten what thus far had been a great day of cycling. Also, it should be noted, the Goričko Hills were less formidable than what I’ve been traversing the past couple of weeks- inviting rather than intimidating. So I continued north – until I didn’t.
After crossing a small canal, I came to a road construction project where the surface consisted of large chunks of gravel. I stared down the gravel road and considered my options, watching while one car continued on gravel and another turn onto a farm road that paralleled the canal. Not wanting to backtrack to Turnisče and/or go directly to Murska Sobota, I chose the farm road, betting that I could wend my way back to the original route. The surface was very ridable, and in less than a mile I came to a small bridge that took me across the canal. From there. I zig-zagged from one farm road to another, each of varying surface quality, until I finally rejoined my original route – at the precise point where the construction project ended and pavement began. My bet had paid off and I was heading to the hills, such as they were.
The ten miles through the Goričko hills were the best of the day’s ride – rolling through woodlands, farmland, and small towns, where I was welcomed in Hungarian as well as Slovenian, German and English. There was a striking uniformity in the houses here, a reminder of Slovenia’s past history under Tito and communist rule. I stopped at a bar in Bogojina for a water refill and sat drinking a coke amongst a group of the town menfolk. One large fellow with a characteristic drinker’s nose sat alone, staring into space until some new arrivals aroused him from his stupor. A large and imposing man, he stood up with much verbal and physical posturing that bordered on belligerent, with the rest of the men using various tactics to cajole or ignore the familiar drunk. Feeling a bit anxious but not personally threatened, I quickly downed my coke and was on my way.
It was encouraging to see another cyclist along the farm road, an indication that I was on the path to somewhere
In this region near Hungarian border, there was a remarkable uniformity in the houses that reminded me of Slovenia's was part of Yugoslavia under Tito and communist rule
On arrival at the Belmur Hotel, I was warmly greeted by Bronco, a smiling man in a pink shirt who offered me a cold drink and an invitation to join him and his girlfriend Kara on the terrace. Bronco had only recently bought and renovated the hotel and was keen to know more about bike touring, hoping to attract cyclists to the region and to the hotel. I shared some thoughts and experiences, telling him how much I had enjoyed the afternoon’s ride. Following his recommendation, I had an enjoyable dinner at an Italian/pizza restaurant a few blocks from the hotel and afterwards explored a bit of the city – the cathedral, a central park with a small castle and a largely empty pedestrian area. Unlike the neighboring town of Moravske Toplice, whose large thermal spas are a major tourist attraction, Murska Sobota did not appear to have anything I would consider a major tourist draw. But I had discovered some great nearby cycling roads and an excellent hotel with a warm and welcoming host – a good overnight stop in my book.
Bronco, a very engaging and generous host who even offered to drive me to the area’s best restaurant located about 4km out of town. I might have accepted his offer, but the restaurant was closed
