with Kranjska Klobasa . She recommended Struklji for dessert , made of dough filled with cottage cheese , tarragon , walnuts , and apple .
Nika told me that she was from the city where Melanija Knavs was born , in Novo Mesto . I stared at her not knowing who she was referring to , she noticed this .
“ Don ' t you know who she is ?”, she asked me . “ I have no idea ,” I replied . “ I thought that stupid woman was very famous outside of Slovenia ,” she told me with a contemptuous tone .
Curious , I questioned to who she was .
Making a gesture of disgust she told me that she was the wife of the president of the United States . It was there that I realised that she was referring to the former model turned " first lady ". I asked her why she didn ' t love her if she was Slovenian .
“ Because she betrayed us by marrying that stupid ,” she explained .
“ And adopting citizenship of a country that is not an example of anything .”
I kept smiling , took a sip of the beer and watched her walk into the bar with her beautiful blonde hair blowing .
The next morning , I headed towards Nova Vas , Croatia ( 155 kms ) where I spent a week at Giovanni ' s house ; the famous Italian biker of whom we ’ d already met ( Traverse - issue 09 ). We drank good Italian wine in the company of Renzo , his father who cooks like the Gods and his mother Sabrina .
I left Nova Vas early on Friday morning with the Turkish border as the destination , but I had to stop for a couple of days in a town a couple of kilometers away called Motovun . I was not feeling well .
A flu ravaged me , and with fever I had to spend three days in bed , recovering strength to continue my ride .
Motovun is situated in the center of Istria , beside the Mirna river . It is on top of a mountain and walled in by the Celts and the Illyrians . I walked from the Casa Rossa hotel , located about three kilometres away , and climbed the 270 metres of height that left me exhausted after days in bed .
In a restaurant near the City gate , from where we could admire the wonderful landscape of the valley ; there , something interesting happened to me .
I been sitting down , tasting my first bottle of wine after five days , when I saw a graceful man , sitting alone , and drinking one of the best Italian wines , a bottle of Sassiscaia . I know about wines and when I see someone drinking a good bottle , I usually smile with pleasure . The man saw my gesture and raised his glass , inviting me to a toast with him , I raised my glass which contained a Croatian wine , a Plavac .
TRAVERSE 33