It was a very sultry August day. Three cyclists were climbing the hill in the worst heat of the afternoon. After riding behind them for a while, I realised from the constitution of their bodies that they were men. Just before the village, I overtook them, drove into our courtyard, parked the car and entered the house, or rather the kitchen, where my husband was preparing lunch. This time there were more pots on the stove than usual, as we were expecting visitors. When I checked the preparations to see whether the quantities were right, I found that the cook had exaggerated the quantities a little. "It will be for tomorrow," I thought, praised him, drank a glass of water and went to the car to look for something.
As I was leaving the house, my attention was drawn to a tourist information board in English in the middle of our village, a few metres below our house. It was the three cyclists I had seen earlier. They spoke to a passing villager, who did not let them distract her, but just kept on sailing. I walked up to them and asked them in English how I could help them. We would like to eat seasonally and locally, they replied. I explained that this was unfortunately not possible in Prem and the surrounding area and asked them where they were going. When I found out that they were planning to cycle across the whole of Brkina, all that food on the stove came into view and I fired up: "If you take it into consideration that you haven't booked, that you won't be eating in a hotel and that you will have to wait for about half an hour, I invite you to have lunch at my house."
First they looked at me hard, exchanged a few words in German, and then accepted my invitation.
I suggested that while they were waiting, they should take a look around our village, which is a local cultural monument, with a majestic castle and a church, which is a cultural monument of national importance. It is important that we respect and also proudly show our heritage, our history that builds us. By doing so, I believe that we are adding a piece to the mosaic of belonging to our country.
My husband supported my decision without comment and agreed that if the quantity of food didn't work out, I would prepare something for home. quickly. The riders were Swiss, aged between 50 and 60. They were staying in Slapa near Kozina and cycled around Primorska and Notranjska.
They were delighted with their lunch, especially with the Brda porcini mushrooms. They stayed with us for about an hour and a half. They asked for the price of lunch, and I told them that it should be a souvenir of Slovenia.
A month later, I received a package from Switzerland. What a surprise! The photo that came with the package showed my mother-in-law with two cyclists on a bench in front of our house, with the house number and the name of the village visible, Mr Google and took care of all the other details that need to be included to make sure the parcel reaches the right address.
Well, that's how this beautiful story came about. Oh, and this: After the cyclists had ridden off, the guests arrived in the courtyard. There was enough food for everyone; the portions were just a little smaller than usual.
Where there is a will, there is a way.
Jerica Strle
English (UK) 
Slovenščina 
Italiano 
Magyar