Exploring the coastal line around Piran

The coastal line of Slovenia, albeit short, hides so many fascinating corners that a couple of days are not enough to explore it. The history of the area is complex and exciting, while the distinct Venetian and Mediterranean ambience (that comes in sharp contrast to the central-European one in the rest of the country) is friendly, familiar, and attractive to all. Despite the numerous bays, the tourist infrastructure remains minimal, and most of the seacoast feels untouched by time. The beaches are not sandy; instead, they are covered in gravel derived from the crumbling cliffs which snake around the littoral edges, offering imposing views, and providing the flysch stones of which most of the houses are built. The waters though are crystal, blue, and inviting, and it only takes a ray of sun to transform this northern part of the Mediterranean into shimmering heaven. Above all, the Slovenians – known for their adventurous spirit and athletic disposition – have drafted a series of paths that cover the largest section of the coast, allowing for several hours of intriguing explorations.

I have already described the charm of Piran and the enchanting power of its medieval alleys. However, the picture would remain incomplete without exploring the surrounding area, which is often preferred by the locals and the experienced travellers.

On one side, between Izola and Piran, there is the small settlement of Strunjan, mostly known for its stunning Nature Reserve. It includes the longest section of unspoiled (i.e., undeveloped) coastline in the whole Gulf of Trieste, the Avenue of Pines, the Stjuza Lagoon (the only sea lagoon in Slovenia considered a wetland), and the Strunjan salt pans.

We arrived there late in the afternoon, just before dusk, crossing in haste the Avenue of Pines, the beauty of which is legendary. Apparently, many accidents have taken place on this road – perhaps because the straight line prompts the drivers to higher speeds – and, I was told, each pine has a death toll on its conscience. However, the sight of the trees is dramatic and monumental, and I was sad we did not have time to stop.

 

We parked close to Vila Tarnini, a well-known resort and restaurant, built within a horticultural garden of some fame and prestige. There was a haze in the air, and anticipation for an upcoming downpour, so the landscape was shadowy and veiled. At the far end, the pointy outline of Piran’s bell tower penetrated the mist, but, other than that, the horizon was a blurry line, merging the sea with the sky into an almost inseparable entity.

 

The path towards Izola leads to the Moon Bay, the serene ambience and wilderness of which attracts all peace-seeking bathers. A bit further away, one can admire the Strunjan Cliff: an 80m-high bluff that stretches along 200 meters of the coast, shaped entirely by the ferocity of the elements that keep reducing the flysch rocks to pieces.

 

The trail towards Piran passes by the Strunjan salt pans: the smallest and most northerly ones in the Mediterranean. The locals have been capitalising for centuries on the shallowness of the lagoon, creating bunds, canals, and ponds where not only salt is collected using ancient techniques but also an important ecosystem thrives. For the seawater to turn into a brine, it must pass through three different concentration stages, during which the water evaporates, and, in the end, the minerals begin to consolidate into crystals. This is the time the salt workers embark on the manual collection of the final product, using traditional tools. Their tasks include gathering the prestigious flower of the salt, pushing the salt to the edge of the crystallisation basins, forming pyramid-shaped heaps, and transferring the salt to the draining platforms. The most significant component of the process is the use of petola: a carefully cultivated layer of compacted mud that includes microorganisms, gypsum, and green-blue algae, and prevents the salt from mixing with the sea mud at the bottom of the crystallisation basins. As such, the end-result remains pure, white, and rich in minerals. This unique, salt-making process originates from the Island of Pag (in Croatia) and, since the 14th century, it has been preserved only in the Piran salt pans (Strunjan and Secovlje).

 

On the other side, between Piran and the Croatian borders, there is Portoroz: the most-developed town of the coastline with adequate infrastructure for tourists, a large marina, luxurious hotels – including the Hotel Palace of Austro-Hungarian architecture – casinos, sandy beaches, and lines of high-end shops. Evidently, we did not stop there, but only passed through on our way to the Secovlje Salina Nature Park: the largest saltpans in the coastline and the centre of the city’s economic growth in the past.

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Unfortunately, we did not have the chance to visit the museum inside the Salina Park. We enjoyed, though, from afar, the large ponds and abandoned buildings that were used, once upon a time, by the temporary workers, and contribute today to the nostalgic charm of the area. Instead, we chose with my friend to walk on the seaside promenade: an adorable path, breathtakingly serene during this time of the year. We passed by a quiet marina where sailing boats and small yachts were moored and headed to Sezza and a windy stripe of coast where many kiters and kite-surfers were gathered to enjoy the afternoon.

 

Although the seaside monopolised our attention given the picturesque reflections on the water, the landside was also rich, covered in olive groves that produce the high-quality Istrian olive oil. This landscape was even more prominent as we hiked up the hill towards Forma Viva, an open-air sculpture exhibition, initiated in 1961 by two Slovenian artists and running now continuously for fifty years, hosting more than 130 stone sculptures by international artists coming. Plotted amidst the indigenous olive trees and enriched by the view of the Portoroz port at the background, these installations provide an ideal and meditative setting for relaxation or even a picnic with friends. Although Forma Vida is not a hidden gem, given the ample signage in most maps of the region, it felt like an unexpected discovery, something we would have missed had we not chosen to walk on the promenade.

 

Given such an abundance of options, it is difficult to choose my most favourite spot in this area. Should I ever visit again, though, I would love to stay for a few days in Piran, taking my time to explore the surrounding paths, the salt pans, the monasteries (which I missed during this trip), and the spectacular biodiversity hosted in this tiny corner of Slovenia.

 

Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou.

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