Business Articles - Slovenia Life

Searching for the Good Life

A Quest for the Best that Slovenia has to Offer

by by william wagner, september 2006

Slovenia has a lot to offer when it comes to the good life: mountains, the seaside, an abundance of nature. Some would say it has a nearly ideal location, with culinary and cultural influences from the Adriatic and the Alps combining to form a unique quality of life.

Back in the heyday of the socialist Yugoslav era, the good life was already in full swing. Work was relatively easy under socialism, and spending quality time with friends and family was practically a job requirement. It's true that in those days, there were very few fancy restaurants, shops, and other places to spend money, but it didn't matter. The wealth and beauty of nature were abundant, the necessities of life were attended to, and good times were never in short supply.

Things have changed, however. Capitalism, which was always simmering on the backburner, has been boiling rapidly for more than a decade. Many Slovenes now have more money than they know what to do with. Shopping has become serious business, both for buyers and sellers. The demand for luxury items is rising: BMWs, fancy gemstones, exotic vacations, the list goes on. The standards for the good life have forever changed. The new reality is that the good life in Slovenia is no longer a simple concept, nor an everyday thing... it's become something that one needs to chase after, and usually spend money on.

So what is the secret to finding the good life in Slovenia today? Does it matter what "other people" are doing, or does the modern good life demand something better? These were difficult questions, and everyone that I spoke to seemed to have a different opinion. I decided that it was time to do some basic research of my own.

The Journey Begins

My search for the good life would start with the basics: good food and wine. The most promising place to look would have to be Slovenia's famous wine region – Goriška Brda. About a 90 minute drive from Ljubljana, it's located directly on the Italian border. The Goriška Brda area is almost like a Slovene version of Tuscany; fortunately it's also a well kept secret unbeknownst to most foreign tourists.

Dragging my family along on my adventure, our first stop was the Brdo Castle in Dobrovo, where we took a quick break to peek around the castle and browse through the well stocked wine cellar. It's actually a cooperative run by the major winegrowers in the region to showcase their products. You can find just about any type of wine from Goriška Brda here, but it's not really a place to sit down and enjoy life – it's a place to stock up on what you like best before heading home.

Heading further into Brda territory, we decided to stop for lunch at the Belica restaurant in Medana, which has a wonderful outdoor terrace with an fantastic view of the valley. Some friends recommended the place to us, and it was beginning to feel like we had finally arrived in "good life" territory. The view was in indeed amazing, and was enhanced by a small but enticing swimming pool at the edge of the terrace. On a hot august day we were tempted to strip naked and dunk ourselves into the refreshing blue water as we waited for our meal, but better sensibilities took hold – the pool's close proximity to the other diners would have made this an awkward indulgence indeed. Note to self: next time bring a swimsuit!

We had heard that the food at Belica was among the best in the area, so we arrived with high expectations. Our first surprise was that the menu only offered two choices. I opted for pork with mushroom sauce and potatoes with Italian style vegetables, which also included two appetizers: a light pasta dish and a small serving of something that was described as Lasagne, but was actually sliced tomatoes and mozzarella on thin layer of pasta. All in all, the food was satisfying, although with my quest for the good life in high gear I was hoping for something a bit closer to perfection. I was slightly disappointed... at least until desert arrived. The apple-nut cake was truly delicious, but alas there was little time to enjoy it fully since we were already late for our main destination.

The bill for our meal turned out to be quite reasonable: less than 5,000 sit for a full course meal with desert, wine, and coffee. The restaurant also offered several rooms upstairs for guests who wished to stay overnight. Perhaps on another trip – right now our adventure continued with a short trip down the road to the Movia winery.

The real thing?

Once again, our expectations were high, as the reputation for Movia wine has become well-known in these parts. The company has won some impressive awards both in Slovenia and abroad, and the Kristančič family has been running the Movia wine-making business since 1820. Over the generations they have learned quite a few things about good wine and the good life. Some of their recent guests have included Prince Albert and the King of Sweden. Surely they must be on to something.

I had phoned from Ljubljana two days earlier to make an appointment, hoping to arrange a brief tour of the operation. Upon arriving at the rosé colored Movia manor, which also serves as their business headquarters, I had an instinctive sense that I was finally getting closer to uncovering some inner workings of the good life. The entrance to the house was warm and cheerful. The setting was bright and welcoming, the view was spectacular. Everything appeared just as it should be.

Peeking through the main entrance I gazed into a large and elegant dining room. I sensed that I had stumbled upon someplace special, at least by Slovene standards... a private dynasty where the good life still flourished on a daily basis. I began to imagine lively dinner parties with well-dressed guests enjoying fine wine and chatting about all conceivable aspects of the good life.

There was one small problem, however... no one seemed to be at home when we arrived. Apparently this charming outpost of the good life had been temporarily deserted. But why? Feeling that my search had come to a dead-end, my enthusiasm started to wane. Turning around, I noticed a car pulling into the driveway. Two lively young children leaped out, followed by a casually-dressed couple who appeared to be expecting us, judging from the concerned looks on their faces. Their first words were a brief apology for being late, followed by a second apology for the fact that Movia's owner and chief wine-maker, Aleš Kristančič, would not be able to meet with us that day. He apparently had urgent business to attend to in Ljubljana, after which he was heading directly for a holiday trip to the Croatian island of Hvar with his wife.

Interesting, I thought to myself. I was beginning to learn that the good life was never quite what it seemed. I had been to the same island myself just a few weeks earlier, and came to the conclusion that, despite the near perfect sunny weather and beautiful sea, it was not at all a place where I wanted to stay for very long. I felt like a tourist, and everywhere I went I was expected to think and act like one. It was difficult to find any locals that seemed to be living the genuine good life. They all seemed to be catering to us foreigners left and right. And many of the locals were not authentic locals, but rather imported from the mainland to do a summer job and return home. It must be very peaceful on the island in the off-season – my bet is that that is when the real good life begins!

The good life in a bottle

Back again to present time. The couple who greeted us at the driveway were close friends of the Kristančič family, and in fact were taking care of their children while they were away. They offered to answer all our questions and give us a full tour of the facility. We entered the house and found a comfortable spot on the spacious balcony overlooking the valley. After a few minutes of polite introductions, we got down to the business of tasting wine and thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Neatly prepared trays of cheese, proscutto, stuffed tomatoes, olives and dry fruit seemed to materialize out of thin air. The wine was indeed good quality: a bottle of Sivi Pinot disappeared rapidly, followed by an equally delightful bottle of Rebulla. I was surprised to hear that over 70% of the Movia label is exported to the US. In Slovenia, one can only find it at the Movia wine shop in Ljubljana and at selected restaurants.

If one could duplicate the essence of the good life and put it in a bottle, I'm sure it would be a big hit. Isn't that essentially what most people buy when they purchase a bottle of fine wine? They are buying not just a product that is special and unique, but also a taste of the good life – a celebration of the present and a dream of better things to come. In this sense, your taste of the good life is never far away – it's just around the corner at your local restaurant or supermarket.

Secrets revealed

A short while later we toured the state-of-the-art Movia winemaking facility and storage cellar, and learned a few of the secrets of the trade: hard work, a willingness to try new approaches, a commitment to understanding the subtle secrets of the grape, and finally, dedication to using only the best methods and equipment to extract its goodness. It sounded to me like a fairly decent recipe for extracting the goodness from life in general. To my surprise, my quest to discover the good life had turned out to be both enjoyable and fruitful (pardon the pun). As our tour ended, I officially declared my mission to be complete, and thanked our hosts for their generosity.

On the way home, we stopped briefly at the hillside town of Šmartno, also in Goriška Brda. It was an interesting little place with another picture-postcard view. The sun was setting, and it seemed like an ideal spot for a final drink to celebrate the joys of the good life before returning back home to face ordinary life. Unfortunately, most of the town seemed to be closed, including the local museum, church, and what appeared to be the only cafe. This time there would be no greeting party to welcome us into their private sanctuary. It seemed like such a shame that no one else was around to enjoy the wonderful setting, aside from a couple of small children playing and one or two idle passers-by. Perhaps everyone else had headed off to the Poetry and Wine festival in nearby Medana. We had also thought of attending, but decided that we had already tasted enough good life for one day. What we needed now was a healthy dose of real life to prepare us for the day after.