In the last 36 hours, two feet of snow has fallen on the little town of Bohinjska Bistrica. This terrible photo from my balcony shows a potential avalanche on the roof next door. The ill-defined lump in the middle is the farmer's car.
Every road reminds me of a bob-sleigh track and yet these drivers continue on their way as if nothing has happened. Slovenian drivers don't seem to slow down for anything. For those of you who are used to the American notion of obsessively giving way to pedestrians, you will be shocked by the Slovenian drivers' complete lack of courtesy. If you are in their way, they simply assume that soon you won't be. This is even the case when the road is barely wide enough for one car and pedestrians are presented with solid walls of snow as the only escape route.
Callous disregard for idiot Englishmen aside, a walk in Slovenian snow showed me once again that this place is all about family. When people were digging, the whole family was digging. Digging is a family thing in the Alps. Some of the children digging were small enough to be lost to the elements, and yet there they were. My First Shovel, was presumably the logo on some of the digging gear I saw.
We are expecting two more days of snow. Extrapolating, I get four feet. When walking it is best to avoid the edges of roofs in case the whole lot comes down. That would crush you, probably. Then you'd be run over as a final indignity. I might not go out for a while.
Slovenia, writing, other things