19. May 2026
Julian Alps Adventure
It all started with a chance meeting in the old Siabod Cafe in Eryri. The Slovenian guy sipping coffee opposite me waxed lyrical about the Julian Alps, the quality of the huts, the settled weather, the warmth of the limestone and the people meant that I filed Triglav away as one of the many hills I’d love to have a crack at. I promptly forgot all about it as the prospect of a day scrambling in the Ogwen Valley seemed more attainable on that drizzly Welsh morning.
Fast forward several years to the Doug Scott Memorial Lecture at Rheged. Leo Houlding (former Cumbrian wunderkind adventurer but now a father of two young kids) was essentially showing his holiday snaps. But these weren’t package deals to Benidorm, He and his wife had taken their children away on some amazing adventures, the first of which was to Slovenia and Triglav from the south. I figured that even I might have a chance at this legendary mountain if these two (albeit amazing) youngsters could get to the top,
The year after we found ourselves looking for a week away after the disappointment of cancelling a holiday to Yosemite. Somehow the idea of Slovenia and Triglav surfaced in our minds and before the evening was out flights were booked, car hired and accommodation arranged.
I knew a few people who had been before and remarks like “you’ll love it” and “it’s right up your alley, John” just got me more excited. We were going a little early for some of the high huts to be open so my original plans were modified and I booked a hut low in the Vrata valley underneath the north face of Triglav and one just below the summit pyramid.
Soon we were off, No direct flights from Manchester to Lubjiana meant a hop to Brussels and a race to the gate but before long we were whizzing along the smooth Slovenian roads in our hire car, trying not to gawp at the mountains growing larger and pointier on our left. A few miles before Kranjska Gora we crossed what became known as the “wow bridge” with the high Julian Alps looming above the forest straight ahead. How I kept the car on the road I have no idea.
The Hotel Kompass was great, if a little strange, but that’s all part of the adventure (beware the chocolate dumplings that look like potatoes) and the town offered bikes of all descriptions for hire and via ferrata kit for the hills. One of these hire outlets proved to be a great source of information. The guy at Julijana said that my plan of the Plemenice (aka Bamburg) Route in ascent and descent via the Prag route was a good one, as long as I knew what I was doing. We had a chat and I think he accepted my credentials! However he couldn’t vouch for whether the route was snow-free.
A recce was therefore in order. So that day we got the bus from Mojstrana to the Aljazev Dom hut in the Vrata valley. The bus runs regularly from 0400 until 2000 so there is no need to drive up the narrow, awkward valley road which has restricted access. Instead, you can admire the beauty of the wooded valley or stop and explore the waterfalls en route. Once at the hut we settled in for a couple of hours to soak in the surroundings with a cheeky beer, the awesome north wall of Triglav looming above.
On asking the charming waitress if she could give us some info on the state of the routes, she brought her colleague who was “like google for Triglav”. What an ace bloke. He assured us the Plemenice was essentially snow-free. There were slushy areas of snow above but these could be negotiated without spiky footwear. Music to my ears! Again I got a very gentle grilling about whether I was up to the route but we ended up having a very amiable conversation about routes we had both enjoyed in the Alps. A natter about the weather and when to start “first light, 5 a.m.” and the plan was on.
Now having experienced the way that the weather tends to pan out, this was spot on advice. If there’s going to be a thunderstorm (which in June seems to be every 2 or 3 days but may be more frequent later in the season) it is invariably in the late afternoon or evening. So using the generally clear weather of the morning and early afternoon to enjoy the route is good beta.
I was back at the Aljazev Dom a couple of days later. I’d hired VF leashes for 3 days (8 euros a day) and had them crammed in my overstuffed Blue Ice Dragonfly 26 litre pack. This was a little small in some ways for the outing I had planned. It left little room for luxuries, but in hindsight I would probably have left out my belay jacket as the weather was warm and pleasant.
Dinner at the hut was fairly spartan but the large bowl of bean soup was nevertheless delicious with lots of bread to mop up. Sweet pancakes followed and when I said I would be away before breakfast, a “lunch bucket” was produced for me, which contained two doorstep ham and cheese sandwiches, a protein bar and a bottle of water. I was well set for the day ahead.
The Dom is small but the rooms are more like those of a hostel back home, with bedding provided in individual bunks, sockets for charging phones etc and even showers (a euro for 3 minutes). The staff are delightful and helpful too. As the only Brit in residence that night I didn’t join in with the group singsong which was going on at one stage but had a chat with some ladies from Munich who were heading to the high hut the next day.
A kit faff and an early night saw me awake at 0430 and struggling with a sandwich and as much water as I could swallow. It was going to be 30°C in the valley and 38°C further down. Time to go. With an extra litre of water on board I was away, as were a Slovenian couple clearly headed for a high mountain rock route as they were laden with ropes and rack.
The route
Leaving the Dom the route up the forested valley heads for the pass at Luknja, some 750 metres above. But first it passes an impressive monument to partisans and alpinists consisting of a huge piton and karabiner embedded in a boulder. The path splits soon after and the left fork (signed Luknja) joins the Bistrica river before a path labelled “Prag” heads left over the torrent towards the north wall. A point to note for tomorrow as this was to be my return route.
Speaking of which, alongside the signposts (often with timings) the route is marked by red circles with a white centre between which are red “slashes” on the rock. Arrows can be slightly misleading in that they appear to show the way not to go - confusing at first but useful once you understand the language of the route setters, who really know their stuff. Going off-route is ill advised. I found that careful observation allowed me to follow the route and avoided unexpected diversions, especially over the bare limestone karst areas.
As I continued, keeping a sharp eye out for route markers (one beneath a brass plate with a very odd picture), the huge north wall of Triglav began to close in on the left revealing a daunting scree slope up ahead, the limestone already glowing white in the morning sun. Fortunately as I approached this the waymarkers veered off to the right across to a forested area which gave welcome shade against the early sun and avoided much of the scree, until inevitably the final section had to be tackled. A cable runs along the rock beyond the scree slope so I (unwisely) followed this. A better route is to head for the lowest point of the saddle and onto the col where a battered signpost reading “Triglav (cez Plemenice) 4h” shows that the next stage begins on the left.
The col at the Luknja Pass (1756m) is delightful with a grassy bank scattered with alpine flowers on one side, the awesome wall of Triglav on the other and a stunning view into the valley and the heart of the Julian Alps ahead. Here I met a pair of Swiss climbers gearing up with harnesses and rope lanyards, rather than VF kit. In hindsight, I think they had the right idea.
A glance at my watch showed I was going OK, well under two hours since leaving the Dom. I had brought an extra litre of water from the hut so I polished off the last of this with a hunk of sandwich and a protein bar before donning harness, helmet and VF kit ready for the steep stuff. Refreshed and with a lighter load on my back, I set off.
The fixed protection started quite soon with a steep sustained section on dry rock shaded by the bulk of the mountain. Another steep cleft followed until an easier path provided a brief respite to admire the views. Traversing and climbing a further steep bit on good holds, pegs and staples and I was getting a feel for this delightful route. Yes it was steep and exposed in places but fixed protection was well placed wherever the steepness and exposure presented itself. Climbing the dry limestone was pleasant and if holds became tricky to find, then a staple or iron peg would appear and a pull on the cable would help me regain my balance. Following the route required close attention but meeting a dead end meant reversing my steps a short distance until the route became obvious again. This could be excused because the heightening sun shone onto the Korita valley and across to the serried peaks opposite, gilding the summits and highlighting the residual snow on the northern aspects and gullies.
Concentrate, John! Because some of the traverses had pretty awesome drops below. But, secured by the cable, none were daunting and I found the rhythm of the route and my own movement. After a final steep and exposed section along the ridgeline with huge drops but amazing views of the North Face and the Vrata valley, the scenery changed. The ground became broken with loose sections of scree and occasional zig-zags where I had to switch back on to the red roundels, slashes and arrows. Again the distractions were close at hand as frequent stops were necessary to appreciate the massive North Face of Triglav becoming ever more close at hand.
So far I had seen hardly anyone on the route except for a party of four shortly after the steep stuff started, but now I caught up with a chap who was going slightly slower than me and was also picking his way across the rocky outcrops. We negotiated this section together, occasionally meeting to point out the route markers which weren’t hidden by the neve, until the summit pyramid loomed ahead across scree slopes. Careful examination of the paths through the loose rock revealed an obvious confluence where iron pegs and cable sprouted from the mass of rock ahead. Crikey, it looked steep. But the route markers hadn’t let me down so far so I plodded up and threaded my leashes onto my harness again.
It was almost as steep as it looked but brilliant fun and I revelled in the movement over steep ground protected by the cables and aided by pegs and staples where necessary. I was feeling great and moving well so when the summit shelter appeared I was almost disappointed. But I needn’t have worried - more was to come.
I had heard of the tradition that every Slovenian should climb Triglav at least once but I’d also heard whispers of an odder practice for those who had reached the summit for the first time. So I wasn’t too surprised when there were a couple of guys leaning against the summit shelter being whipped (yes whipped) with climbing slings (although anything goes really).
The top is marked by a metal cylinder topped by a cone - a bit like a kid’s drawing of a rocket, about the size of a sentry box and houses little more than the summit book and is topped by a lightning conductor. There were lots of folk gathered at the top, the majority having ascended by the “tourist route” which, while a simpler proposition than my ascent route, is no easy stroll as I was to learn. The last of my sandwich and my protein bar was a feast to celebrate this high point with astonishing 360° views to savour while I ate.
After a few photos I could see a bit of clag approaching as the forecast had suggested, so I got my bearings to make sure I picked the right descent route and began to descend. The “normal” route was pretty full on too but always well protected by fixed cables and well equipped. The initial knife edge ridge steepened and plunged downwards with plenty of traffic coming in the opposite direction. Eventually I gave up on my leashes and simply held onto the cable when necessary. The angle eased all too quickly and then petered out at a sign on a rock indicating my route went left to the Triglavska Dom, while the descent to the Planika Dom went rightwards.
I was now traversing Mali Triglav and the ground fell away again as the mist rolled in. No glimpse of the hut yet so I cracked on down until at last the clouds relented and it came into view. Always an affirming sight!
The hut was well organised and surrounded by lots of eager mountaineers hiring leashes for their ascent or having a post-climb celebratory beer. I was ready to check in but I was much too early for that. I checked my watch. It was just after noon - I’d had quite a morning and was ready for a lunchtime drink and a bit of chill time. I spent the afternoon drinking a litre of water and a couple of cans of grapefruit raddler - a low-alcohol tangy shandy which works brilliantly as a relaxing drink after a big hill day. I met the German ladies I’d encountered at the Aljazev hut and we chatted for a while, watching the aerobatics of the choughs and admiring the mountain vistas that opened as the mist cleared again.
I had booked an evening meal and wolfed down the goulash with polenta followed by cake and another raddler before faffing my kit for an early start the next day and heading for bed. Although the hut seemed very busy, I had a bunk under the eaves to myself and unrolled my liner sheet gratefully. I slept well despite the snorers in the dorm and felt refreshed when I woke at 0430 (again) and guzzled a cereal bar and some water I had purchased the night before. I left in the crepuscular light as dawn began to break, pausing to snap the carpets of alpine flowers that clung to the fissures in the limestone, forming cushions of blue and yellow.
I was alone with the mountain and I relished every step of the journey, feeling the privilege of having this dawn to myself. A steep descent onto a vast karst plateau required concentration but progress was rapid across the clints and grikes while following the waymarkers closely. Pausing at an enormous sink hole choked with old nevé, I realised that my route tended towards the huge cliff of Begunjski Vrh, below which a boulder field had formed and this meant my pace slowed. Thankfully, I reached a low signpost and followed the arrow pointing down the Prag route.
I could see that the relatively gentle sloping plateau was going to steepen and indeed it did, with sections of pegs protected by cables before crossing back below the crags and eventually reaching a vertical section. This was the spot where one of the last bears in Slovenia fell to its death while being pursued by hunters. I downclimbed this section on pegs and staples and probably should have clipped into the cable but my leashes and harness were at the bottom of my rucksack. So with three points of contact at all times I swarmed down and was soon negotiating the stony path which takes huge zigzags below the north wall of Triglav, close to the last vestiges of the glacier which formed this valley. Back amongst the dwarf pines I descended quickly in comparison to those flogging upwards before the heat of the day took hold. After a seemingly endless series of switchbacks the river Bistrica reappeared and I crossed to rejoin the path to the Aljazev dom.
Realising the time, I broke into a jog and was in time to see the 0800 bus from Mojstrana reverse into the bus stop. After a confusing conversation with the bus driver we headed off through the lush woodland to where my hire car was parked by the ski centre. Twenty minutes later I strode into the hotel Kompass restaurant, covered in dust, sweaty, smelly and ravenous but very happy indeed. It had been an amazing outing and I can’t wait to go back for more.
Check out the Gallery page some photos from the day.