Otočec, Slovenia
It’s surprisingly quiet at Grad Otočec, a perfectly-pitched and utterly peaceful hotel in a converted castle on an island in the Krka River, 70km from the Slovenian capital, Ljubljana.
A handful of day trippers visit on the weekend but it’s low season: the Slovenians tend to stay home for Christmas. the Americans are elsewhere this year.
There’s one other couple staying over. Which makes for a quirky experience. Not spooky, just quirky. Everything is laid on as if the wedding party is due any minute and we’ve just arrived ahead of time. Bring on the bubbles.
This 800-year-old national treasure probably appreciates a few days of peace and quiet, having outlived Turkish threats, maurading Hungarians, Yugoslav partisans and countless Counts - all of whom wanted, over the years, to renovate, raze or repatriate the towers and stables and everything in between.
The castle was originally a two storey manor with towers, built in the 13th century. Ramparts were added in the first half of the 14th century; a new courtyard and ring of defence towers were built in the 15th century.
The threat of Turkish invasion in the first half of the 16th century meant additional fortifications were needed to resist the Ottoman expansion across Europe.
If the castle’s backstory offers an account of Slovenia’s history, its restaurant and wine list point to Slovenia’s contemporary positioning as a food and wine destination.
Ana Ros paved the way for a broader recognition of Slovenian gastronomy when she won World’s Best Female Chef in 2017. The knock-on effect includes the establishment in 2017/18 of the Slovenian Restaurant Awards, which lists Restavracija hotela Grad Otočec as a regional finalist.
Low volume, local winemakers top Grad Otocec’s wine list. We’re offered a glass of sparkling wine at check-in, and over lunch share a bottle of San Tomas ‘Antonius’ Refošk.
The sparkling wine is crisp as a nashi pear; the Refošk is a beautiful dry red, made from a grape variety - Refosco - said to have been praised by Pliny the Elder and much loved by the first century Romans.
We’re visiting Grad Otočec because of a single photo I saw a year ago. With its snow-covered turrets and wooden bridge, the hotel looked exactly like the kind of place you’d shortlist for a fairytale Christmas.
Imagine, then, how right it felt to see snowflakes fall on the night we arrived. No big deal for the Slovenians, I’m sure. But for this red-nosed Australian, the prospect of waking next morning to a snowwhite landscape was like having all your Christmases come at once.
Dawn came and duly delivered its silent promise.