Waking up in my log cabin, I throw back the curtains – expecting rays of sunshine to seep through as per the weather forecast.
Instead, I’m faced with a grey ceiling of fog which slices off the tops of the mountain range above us.
Fast forward an hour and I’m in a cable car up said mountains, which offers a very different view.
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The clouds which seemed so impenetrable earlier are below me, clinging to the valley like a blanket with nothing but blue skies above.
As I climb even higher, with the aid of a chairlift, the fresh air is laced with the sound of bells, dangling around the necks of cows grazing on the verdant slopes, until I reach the summit: a plateau dotted with wooden shepherd’s huts.
This is the Kamnik-Savinja Alps in Slovenia, just south of Austria and its more illustrious hills.
But they both have much in common: natural beauty and culture being just two qualities which blur across borders in this cosmopolitan country of contrasts.
A vassal state to numerous empires – notably Holy Roman and for four centuries Austrian – Slovenia’s history is one of transition, but also of transit: from medieval trade routes to modern times, where German and Austrian tourists use the country’s highways to reach the Croatian coast.
But since declaring independence from Yugoslavia in 1991 and joining the EU in 2004, Slovenia has moved into an era of consolidation, reclaiming its identity – and in the last ten years, tourists have responded, making the country their destination and not just a means to an end.
‘People come without any expectations and then they really fall in love with the country,” my tour guide tells me, as we drive down one of said motorways, sandwiched between swathes of forest, to our next stop.
‘More and more, they are searching for these hidden gems - and these valleys and hills are all hiding rich stories.”
This is certainly true of our destination, which has plenty of secrets waiting to be discovered.
Right on the Italian border, the Brda region’s undulating hills and rows of grapevines stretching to the horizon conjure up images of Tuscany.
But the wine that is produced here could give some of the bigger Italian vineyards a run for their money, Patrick Simčič tells us as he pours us a glass of Rebula.
Named after the country’s native grape variety, it is as airy and verdant as the grassy hills around us, and just €9.83 a bottle to boot.
Nestled between the Adriatic Sea and the Julian Alps, the microclimate here in Goriška Brda creates hot days and cold nights - perfect for winemaking, Patrick says in a musical Italian-esque drawl.
Having ditched his day job in 2017 to transform the family farm into a winery, a steep learning curve and a rocky start have led to a wall of international awards and an annual production of 90,000 bottles - 95% being exported abroad, a rarity in the Slovenian wine industry.
He even has a sparkling white named after his wife Pavlina, who helped him plant the grapes when they got together in 2017.
“We aren’t very big, like Italy or France, so as winemakers we have to make ourselves known,” he said.
There’s also another product the region is hoping to grab the intentional spotlight with.
A bike ride away from Patrick’s vineyard is Šmartno, a cobbled Gothic village encircled by turrets and defensive walls to repel medieval invaders.
In a nearby cellar, a ponytailed man is pressing grape pulp to make orange wine, an amber stream of juice trickling enticingly into a bucket.
But I’m here to try some the most northerly-produced olive oil in the world - an industry in revival since the harsh winter of 1929, when a -15 degrees Celsius cold snap decimated Slovenia’s groves.
Among the farms spearheading the renaissance is San Martin, named after the area’s patron saint and in the Valentinčič family for eleven generations, which produces two extra virgin olive oils; one from its nearby grove and another in the Julian Alps, made more hospitable to this temperate fruit due to climate change.
After warming the shot glass of golden oil in your hand to release the flavours, the process is not unlike wine-tasting. Coat your mouth, aerate it, and then swallow.
Zesty, with a peppery kick at the end, I preferred it being mopped up by a wedge of frtalja – a Slovenian herby omelette – or drizzled on vanilla ice cream.
While Brda is a place of old traditions, it is also steadily becoming a playground for young entrepreneurs.
Increasingly, those behind the wheel of a tractor or among the crops are Gen Zs, Jaka Bužinel tells us while tossing gnocchi in pesto at his restaurant in at the Tavarneta Estate: a modern boutique hotel with panoramic views of the Italian borderlands.
One of the Wine Brothers, who have 324,000 likes on their Tiktok account, the 24-year-old is using social media to grow his business.
He said: “We as young people have this amazing opportunity - because of social media, everything is close, the world is close, and we know we have something special here.”
Slovenia’s sense of plurality - Alpine and Mediterranean, old and young, provincial and idiosyncratic - will reach a new level in 2025, as nearby town Nova Gorica celebrates being the European Capital of Culture in a joint ‘borderless’ first with adjoining Italian city Gorizia.
So take a visit, while the hidden gems remain hidden – because with the eyes of Europe and beyond on Slovenia, they will not be for much longer.
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