Road Trip Through Eastern Slovenia

Two Oldtimers, 7 Girls, and a Full Moon Weekend: A Winning Combination

"Are we really sleeping here?"
"Yeah, but won’t it be cold?"
"Does this van have electricity?"
"Where are we supposed to brush our teeth?"
"How do you start this thing?"
"How do you put it in reverse?"
"Why is that light on?"
"What do you mean it doesn’t have a front engine?"
"But we didn’t tell any of the guys we were going to bring them along?"

The boss thought we were a fun bunch, but he was a bit worried. He wasn’t sure if our vintage camper vans would make it back in two days. So, we reassured him: "Don’t worry, we’ve all passed our driving tests. We may not be young drivers anymore, but we come from farming backgrounds, so we know how to handle a ride—even if it’s in a tractor!" (Well, we didn’t actually do that last one.) He was a bit skeptical, but we offered him a drop of rum to lighten the mood, and soon enough, the atmosphere relaxed.

Oldtimers Have Their Charm

Vintage campers have their own unique appeal. Take, for example, the unconventional way of closing the door: "First, grab this part, push it up, hold it there, then grab the handle and give it a good tug to close it." The gearbox was stiff (and sometimes the gears ended up in places you didn’t expect…). The engine roared loudly—almost like me, we joked. Power steering? Air conditioning? No, of course not! The whole van shook, creaked, and a little wind managed to sneak through a crack here and there. Lovely, right?

These oldtimers may have been updated a bit, but they still had their quirks. "Does it play music on CDs?" "No." "What? Cassettes?" "No. It has a USB port." "Really? Ohohooo!" "Let’s fill it up with petrol." "No, it runs on diesel!" "Ah, welcome to the hill start!"

Friday Night Drive: Ljubljana to Ptuj

Our Friday evening journey took us along the Ljubljana - Ptuj route. And let’s be clear—no highways for us! It was a quiet night, with an almost full moon lighting up the empty road ahead. We drove slowly, savoring the peacefulness of the countryside. There was something about the combination of the moonlight and the winding roads that felt magical.

The journey was filled with excitement, anticipation, and just a touch of worry. As we got used to driving our two T3s, we adapted to the rhythm of van life. In the orange van, Grga, we rocked out to rock music, while in the green van, Jaga Baba, we enjoyed the beats of Balkan tunes. The evening’s only interruption came when we stopped at Trojane for a sweet snack—donuts, oh my!

By the late hours, we arrived in Ptuj, greeted by the sight of its illuminated castle, the sparkling lake, and a solitary swan gliding through the water. Sleeping in the van was definitely not legal, but what could be better than waking up to nature? The morning sun peeked through the misty meadows, illuminating the lake in soft golden light. Poetry in motion.

Morning in Nature

When the sun finally rose, we realized just how charming our parking spot had been the night before. After a quick wash with dew (and baby wipes), we dressed in layers, like bears trying to stay warm, made coffee, and enjoyed a picnic breakfast amidst nature. It was the perfect start to the day.

As we took a morning drive through Ptuj, we searched for a suitable parking spot. Nothing fancy, just avoiding the side streets and traffic jams. We practiced patience and had some fun in the city center, sunbathing while waking up the Styrian princes. A warm invitation to go for a ride, a hike to the castle, and a few laughs—this was how our Saturday morning unfolded.

Getting Comfortable with the Vans

The girls quickly became comfortable with the vans. At first, driving such large, bulky vehicles felt a little overwhelming, but by the end of the trip, we almost started competing to see who would drive next. Once you get the hang of it, it’s actually a lot of fun. Sure, first gear was occasionally tricky, sometimes resulting in the wrong gear being selected, like third or reverse instead of first. "Oh, it’s not working again!" someone would shout. "You’re in third!"

"Just relax, we’re on vacation," we reassured each other, trying to keep the mood light. "Who cares if it doesn’t work? It’ll work!" And eventually, it always did. Although, there were times we got stuck at roundabouts, or sat at a green light, not able to move. No one honked. In fact, most drivers were understanding, excited to see two vintage camper vans on the road. We made traffic a bit more interesting, we figured.

Navigating Our Way Through Slovenia

Thanks to Garmin, smartphones with Google Maps, and a good old-fashioned paper map of Slovenia on the dashboard, we were never truly lost. But we did have some interesting detours. One of our stops was in Prekmurje, a region that felt wide, flat, and open, with fields stretching as far as the eye could see. We joked about the locals being loud, but we may have drowned them out with our own laughter and chatter. At the local restaurant, we enjoyed some delicious prosciutto and Teran wine, washed down with a glass of Laški Riesling.

Our weekend had been a true mix of Soča’s mountains, spruces, and winding hills, traded for the wide-open spaces of the Mura region, the warmth of thermal waters, and the rich vineyards and poplar trees that defined the landscape.

Above all, it seemed like a lot of space to us—width, flatness, distance—left, right, everywhere. Where do people from this area go on weekends? Hills? I thought the people from Prekmurje were loud, but it turned out we unintentionally drowned them out. I think the folks at the neighboring tables could hear which town we were from, which part of the cycle each one of us was in, how crazy some of our exes were, and at which party we might meet again in the evening. Primorke is all about their characters, after all.

Of course, we swear by prosciutto and Teran, but Laški Riesling and Tunka are also delicious. We gučali (chatted) in our own way, they gučali in theirs, and for "gvišno," we left out some extremely local words. Oh my god, we had it all figured out. Over a weekend in October, we exchanged our Soča rivers, spruces, hills, and winding roads for Mura, thermal waters, flat plains, vines, and poplars. For once, we weren’t in the “ass of the country,” but in the head (chicken). Prekmurje and Prlekija have so much to offer.

One of the first stops on our journey was Mlin na Muri or Babičev Mlin in Veržej. The mill offers a tour of grain grinding in the old traditional way. It’s also possible to buy homemade flour, which, unlike commercial brands, is not mixed with other types of flour. The old miller was more than happy to tell us about his work, his family’s traditions, and life in the mill. It was here, perhaps, that the inspiration for this piece began. Continuing traditions and preserving old customs is truly valuable. “There is flour in the mill, and a mouse in the flour, that’s why cats are always close by,” he told us.

Another important attraction in the region is definitely Vinarium, a 53.5-meter-high observation tower in Dolgovaške Gorice, above Lendava. It’s the tallest tower in Slovenia and offers an incredible view of four different countries. In Prekmurje, you definitely shouldn’t miss soaking in the thermal baths, cycling around the island of Ljubezna, visiting the tropical orchid garden, or sampling the famous Prekmurje gibanica (a traditional layered cake).

As for the campers, each of them had two large beds—one upper and one lower—along with a stove and gas, a funnel with a water supply, an electricity connection, and plenty of cabinets for storing food, dishes, and other essentials. The space was small but surprisingly spacious. Living in an old camper has its perks that make everyday life more colorful:

• For showering and toileting, nature or campgrounds beckon.

• Electricity can be replaced by a campfire, flashlights, fleece blankets, and warm sleeping bags.

• Evening TV, Facebook, and YouTube are replaced with board games, chatter, and stargazing.

• The motorway is swapped for side roads, slower driving, and beautiful panoramic views.

• You can stop anywhere, cook lunch, and enjoy a meal with a view.

This style of travel truly feels like freedom and adventure. It makes you realize how little you actually need for a (beautiful) life.

We had planned to return to our capital on Sunday by a decent hour—around 9:00 PM, at least. We had to return the van, take showers, do our skin, hair, and nails, wash our clothes, prepare for Monday's work, hang out with my boyfriend, and finally go to sleep. But by Sunday at 7:00 PM, we were sitting down to dinner in the middle of the Prekmurje fields, under the setting autumn sun. We still had three hours to drive to Ljubljana on unfamiliar roads, we still had to clean up and wash up after the meal, and the gas lights on the vans were already on.

Oh boy, the women’s Prekmurje Campers road trip doesn’t happen every weekend!