Sept. 26, 2016
Izola to Muggia by bike
Muggia to Trieste by Ferry
After breakfast, we made our way back to the old part of town and did a little more gift shopping. We checked in at the tourist center to get more directions for the bike route. Our ride into Muggia had put on some busy streets so we wanted to be sure of our way. With map in hand we departed for the route that hugged the coast.
The ride was delightful and we paused to enjoy a little park along the way. Here we met a Canadian traveler who had started his trip in Rome and would end up in Sicily. He regaled us with tales of his past biking adventures on the continent. The conversation quickly veered to the political. His perspective of the American election system was honest and intelligent, as was his view (not so positive) of young and handsome Justin Trudeau. We parted with ciao, ciao, ciao, ciaos and we resumed our ride to Muggia.
We had an hour to kill before hopping on the ferry. Johanna quickly went searching for gelato, and ate not one, but two cones and threatened to have a third one. Chantal joined in and went for pistachio, her dad’s favorite, to honor him. So, karmically the calories don’t count. Paj, once again, demonstrated superior restraint and strength of character by eating two prunes.
Back in Trieste, we returned to the B&B we stayed at previously. Our request to reserve a room on our return had got lost in the translation and our hostess was gone on a vacation in Croatia. To our good fortune, her daughters were able to contact her and get the approval for us to stay. They had to carry an extra bed into the only vacant room but they were very gracious and accommodating.
We dropped off our bags and we were off to the Miramar, the extravagant castle built by Maximilian, of the Habsbourg dynasty, for his wife, the beautiful Charlotte of Belgium. Exquisite architectural details through and through, magnificent sea vistas, manicured gardens...While impressed with the loveliness of it all, Chantal, forever the Marxist proletaire, couldn’t but feel the abyss between the haves and the have nots.
Maximilian and Charlotte’s happiness was short lived, unfortunately, as she went mad and he went off to far away Mexico to become king of the land, only to find himself, before long, in front of a firing squad.
The way to and from Miramar follows the sea, along a paved promenade. Bronzed, barely clad bodies of all ages sprawled on the concrete “beach" provided good, innocent entertainment, puritans that we Americans are. Paj & Chantal zipped along the promenade at a good clip, only to be reminded, once again, by miss J that we are not in a race, and that there is a “decent” speed we ought to pedal by. Yes, mam!
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