We left through industrial sections of Trieste past dockyards and chimneys of old factories, through tunnels and emerged in such beautiful green countryside. Silhouettes of tall pines reaching for an impossibly blue sky on one side, while a ‘South Pacific’ blue/green sea, dotted with sailing boats, sparkled on the other.
We headed for the little fishing village of Piran, a gem from Venetian times with a small fisherman’s harbour jutting into the main square. Fishing nets and working boats remind us that not much has changed for some. Restaurants line the seafront while bare bodies sizzle in the hot sunshine.
A wonderful aroma of fish being grilled wafts out to tempt the senses. And seagulls squawk.
A cold beer is called for with a little seafood antipasti . We made short work of the huge hot tray of baby black mussels, clams and scallops drenched in sun-ripened lemon juice, before enjoying a whole Rombo, a white-fleshed local fish that looks like a meatier flounder . SO fresh, you could taste the sea in it!