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Three weeks ago, in the morning I rode to a Hostel located in the heart of Dolomites. Everything was great. Perfect sunny weather, good mood, random invitations from stranges for a chat, for a cup of coffee, for a photo, etc. In 5 days from early morning till late evening I was riding back and forth, from east to west, from south to north, from one pass to another. Almost all was easy and uncomplicated. I was riding till I got totally bored from these curves and incredible views. I generally don’t use gps, unless I really want to go back home as quickly as possible.

I stayed in one of budget hostels for motorcyclists.heir  I did not like it. Owners decided to make a renovation in a middle of season, so drilling at 8 in the morning was standard. Owner, passionate motorcyclist, organised a motorcycle tour inviting all male motor bikers excluding me, the only biker woman in the hostel at that time. It’s men’s world, deal with it… standard. 

I had enough of Dolomites and that hostel. I decided to leave the place and head towards Slovenia. I learned from others that the country is amazing and is definitely worth of visiting, also on a two-wheels machine. Heavy rain was at the day I left Dolomites, and on top of it I was sting by a wasp. But that was definitely not the worst. My phone was stolen. As I have been using the phone for everything. booking, guiding, connecting with others, posting news, and work, the situation was very unpleasant. I reported the stolen property at local police station and looked for any place, where I could connect with one of my cousin. I have not see this part of family for ages. I did not have an exact address, neither phone number. We made an appointment on one of highway exits. As it was getting dark and late, my uncle, who remembered me as a small girl riding four-wheels bicycle, with full excitement was driving around a town and looking for a grown-up woman on a Harley. We made it. We managed to find each other, and after exchanging warm hugs, and smiles, we went to eat dinner. Food and drinks were waiting for a long-no-seen cousin. I was just overwhelmed by their hospitality. 

Next three days I spent riding around Triglavski Narodni Park. After that I rode back to Dolomites, where a surprise was waiting for me. Just upon my arrived, at the front door of a hostel I noticed a familiar looking Harley. Very good friend of mine was worried by not hearing any news from me. He rode over thousand kilometres to check, if everything was fine with me, and to give me a temporary phone, so I could contact someone, in case I would have needed. This is what friendship really is! We were riding for the next few days together, and after wonderful five days we split, and each of us drove in own direction.