Südtirol or Sudtirolo. South Tyrol. The Italian Dolomites. Whatever you call it, the NE corner of Italy was our favorite cycle touring location from our trip through Europe.
A German traveler first insisted we visit this place, a sentiment echoed by other people we met along our way. They were right; the little-known, sparsely populated region is a captivating area. I could see myself living there for an extended period sometime.
Castles (not for rent, unfortunately) and a bike path by the river. Woot!
South Tyrol lies in Italy’s far northeastern tip. It is distant from Rome to the point of autonomy, and even retains most of its tax revenue rather than passing it along to the national government. The region was formerly part of Austria (almost 3/4 of people speak German as their first language) and retains that country’s efficiency and organization. On the other hand, its capital, Bolzano, has won the Italian “best quality of life” award. (In fact, all menus and signs feature both German and Italian.)
On top of that, throw in a stunning mix of scenery and riverside cycle paths through mountain valleys or through picturesque Italian towns. Fair warning that even with the bike paths, there are some long, steep climbs! The mountain biking was also awesome, and I can’t wait to get back to explore more of that realm.
A “rest day” mountain bike ride in Resia. 40 miles, three countries (Italy, Switzerland, and Austria) and most of the climbing done via gondola. The Europeans know what’s up.
If you are planning to cycle here (do it!), the links and details are in my logistics post about bicycle touring through Europe. Everyone else just check out the photos and video documenting our two weeks in this cycling paradise (email subscribers click here, web visitors can watch the embedded version below). I finally bought some real video editing software and had a great time trying new features and honing my video production skills on this 2.5 minute compilation. More to come…
A flooded valley now sports this church spire in the middle of the lake.
A rest day and long walk along the water in Resia.
An evening rainbow on the mountains behind Toblach, Italy.
This dual wavy bridge was curved both sideways and up/down. It’s part of Bolzano’s stellar bike path system.
Chelsea pedals her way up a climb toward Austria.
An evening view of the Alps across Lake Resia.
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/05-DSC07352.jpg6821024Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2015-09-30 08:22:272015-10-15 22:14:27Sudtirolo, the Italian Cycling Paradise You've Never Heard Of (Video)
Bicycle touring in Europe has something for everyone, with terrain ranging from flat, well-signed bike paths to mountains and the challenge of the Alps. After 3.5 months exploring by pedal power, I absolutely recommend a cycling trip here. Whether your trip is long or short, self-guided or with a company, there’s great times to be had for both newbies and seasoned cyclists.
Why? Logistics are easy, with frequent lodging, water, and food sources; it seems there’s town every 5 miles in most of Europe. Plus, businesses cater to cyclists. And if you’d like to skip certain areas, train routes are plentiful. Throw in the fun of varied languages and cuisine, tons of history, and beautiful architecture and it’s simply a fantastic cycling destination.
This post describes technology and online resources to help make your European bicycle tour a success. I also list each of the 13 countries we visited and link to my favorite cycling and lodging networks in each of them. Using my external brain in Evernote, I compiled and organized these as we traveled, which made sharing easy. Hopefully it saves you a ton of time!
The route! Starting in London, we pedaled 2,500 miles, took a couple ferries, and hopped on a few trains.
Technology to Make Your Trip Easy
Given my love of technology, I’d be remiss to not start here. In fact, only one set of paper maps were harmed during our trip (it was in England, I confess). Otherwise, we didn’t use hard-copy maps at all.
“Real” maps weren’t necessary – really! And neither was a turn-by-turn GPS device; a smartphone loaded with the right apps made navigation a cinch. That said, the correct tool spells the difference between pedaling happily along versus pushing your bike through stinging nettles on a forgotten animal trail. (I did both, but prefer the former.) Below are specific tools that I used, and perhaps also read my post about tech details for traveling:
Galileo Offline Maps – my go-to phone app for touring, Galileo pulls info from the Open Cycle Map database. I tried others (Long Haul Trekkers have a great list of offline navigation apps), but Galileo is my favorite. It costs just $2 and you can download individual countries (for free) as you need them. I toyed around with downloading .gpx routes into apps like Bike Hub from biroto.eu, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. If you use a GPS, perhaps it could help you out.
ACSI – this app dials into the ACSI European database for 8,500 campgrounds that are inspected on a yearly basis (i.e. they don’t suck). You can buy individual country info or just snag the entire continent’s worth of data for $13.
WifiMap – if you aren’t traveling with a hotspot or don’t have Google Fi service, this offline list of wifi hotspots and their passwords can come in quite handy, though the utility varies depending on the area because the info is crowdsourced.
Warmshowers.org – this network of cyclists is a great resource for staying with local people. We used it frequently during our U.S. tour in 2014, but found it tougher to arrange in Europe with everyone on holiday. It’s definitely worth checking out! There’s a great app for it as well.
Booking.com and AirBnb.com – after a long day of cycling where you don’t feel like camping (such as when it’s raining or 100 degrees outside), it can be nice to book a place and not search around at the end of the day. We used the Booking.com app mid-ride some days to nail down a place so we could land without having to search for lodging. It was our favorite since there isn’t any time-sucking back and forth communication with a host, but we used Airbnb probably 25% of the time, especially for longer stays in one place when we wanted a kitchen or a full apartment. I should note that Booking.com also has apartments in some locations.
Enjoying the view from our balcony in Resia, Italy. I loved how many balconies were festooned with bright flowers.
Google Maps – an oldie, but a goodie. Same as with Galileo, I’d save locations or map things before we left for the day. I tried voice navigation using ear buds initially, then decided it was unnecessary.
With the above, you’ll be fit as an Olympic marathoner for figuring out where you are, where you’re going, and where the heck you’re going to sleep. The pedaling is still up to you – I haven’t found an app for that. But now that you know how to find routes, which ones should you follow? Read on!
Crossing from Italy to Austria, Switzerland in the background.
Dedicated Bike Routes, Cycle Paths, and Other Resources
We landed in London with no set route beyond a ticket out of Prague. That’s always our favorite method for exploring, though we knew of 14 EuroVelo cycle routes criss-crossing Europe like strands of a golden cycling spiderweb. Following those routes or regional networks, we spent many days on quiet country roads or bike paths, not to mention that many cities also had great cycle-only routes.
Just follow the stickers! Crossing into France from Germany on the EuroVelo 5.
Compared to the United States, there are far more resources in Europe for bicycle touring. I used the below to plan:
EuroVelo (EV) routes – the backbone of any route planning for a European cycling trip for those seeking to follow bike paths or cycle routes. The EV frequently follows local/regional maps (see below), but this overview is great for developing a general route plan.
Updated October 19, 2017: Bikeroll.net looks like a great service to check out. I haven’t used it during a tour, but it looks clean and simple to use. Here’s the instructions for using it.
OpenCycleMap.org – this compiles both the EV routes and regional maps to show low-traffic roads or bicycle paths. Most touring apps that I found pulled from this database.
Bikemap.net – if Google Maps doesn’t have cycling options in the country (Italy, Hungary, Croatia, Slovenia, Czech Republic), this is a great option to scope out potential elevation profiles, such as this quad-tester from Sudtirol in Italy.
Jen and Dave from Long Haul Trekkers cruise through a misty day in the rolling valleys of Slovenia.
Regional Bike Routes in European Countries
The EuroVelo routes are great, but what if you want or need to deviate from those? Fear not – there are many local resources available. Here’s each of the 13 countries we visited and the resources I used to navigate, all arranged in alphabetical order:
Many of the bike paths are old train lines, which means we rode through many cool tunnels like this.
Austria – not only is the scenery fantastic, but it doesn’t get any better than Austria’s bike infrastructure. Clear signage, car-free paths, and even bike maintenance stops. The best part? The word for “bike” in German is RAD. North to south, the Alpe Adria route rocks through the Austrian Alps. East-west, try the mountain-cutting Inn River Path from Switzerland to Germany and the Drau Cycle Path from Italy to Hungary (we rode both of them). Or just check out all of the country’s paths.
Digging the views near Innsbruck on the Inn River Path.
Belgium – you’ll need multiple resources here. First the Fiets Routes for the Dutch-speaking Flanders (northern Belgium), where we followed the famous Tour de Flanders. Then the southern, French-speaking part has two – RandoVelo and Ravel will help you through the famous WWII battle zone of the Belgian Ardennes. Fair warning that an 80k day will stack up 1000 meters of climbing in these steep hills. Here’s my post about our Belgian experience.
Croatia – cycle routes here are more, shall we say, suggestions? Narrow, winding coastal roads with no shoulders and a few country roads for a breather. I recommend riding here in the shoulder seasons and getting up early to avoid traffic. It’s beautiful, but stressful riding. We joined two friends and their dog for this portion of the trip.
Czech Republic – this country features an insane number of cycle routes. I can see why cycle touring is one of the favorite activities in this country, as routes are well-signed and typically follow quiet country roads. It holds a special place in our hearts since Chelsea and I met there in 2006.
Cesky Krumlov in the southern CZ.
England – the National Cycle Network is the place to go for designing your cycle tour through Britain. We spent a week riding from Oxford east to the coast, and I’m looking forward to returning to explore the Lakes District up north.
France – sorry, not much help here as we simply followed the EuroVelo 5 route through eastern France into the pretty Alsace wine region near Strausborg and Colmar. The super-popular EuroVelo 6 runs from France’s western edge straight east and is reportedly quite good.
Germany – as you might expect, the Germans have cycle touring figured out. Their cycle network is solid, as is their list of accommodations (bike and bed, as they call it) for cyclists. We didn’t spend many days in Germany, but I found it easy to navigate.
Storks are good luck in Europe and we saw nests on houses all over.
Hungary – the EuroVelo 6 is the most common way people ride through Hungary, which is predominantly farmland. We came in from Slovenia/Croatia and pedaled around Lake Balaton, which was…ok. The beautiful north side of the lake is the only part of the trip I’d recommend (here’s the blog post about our experience).
Italy – we only cycled in the NE part of the country, the beautiful Sudtirol. These two resources laid out the routes nicely. A German traveler in England insisted we visit this place and described it as a combination of Austrian efficiency and Italian quality of life (all menus and signs are in both languages, which was interesting). He was right: go here. This was our favorite mix of scenery and silky cycle paths, most next to rivers through the Italian Dolomites. (Side note: the mountain biking here rocks. Check out the riding in Reschenpass, which starts in Italy, into Switzerland and Austria, and then back to Italy. First time I’ve been to three countries in one ride. Did I mention there are four gondolas that haul you and your bike uphill?)
A perfect bike path through Sudtirol.
Luxembourg – this tiny speck of a country has a great cycling network both in the countryside and in the picturesque capital. And lots of steep hills.
The Netherlands – all you need is Nederland Fietsland. Flat terrain, perfect cycle paths, and more e-bikes than you’ll see anywhere in the world, Holland is a cycling paradise. It also has a “friends of cyclists” network where locals host cyclists. According to my friends there, the downside is the terrible weather. Here’s my post about our time there.
Slovenia – a favorite country from our trip, especially the NW portion in the Julian Alps. Nice people, laid-back cities, and varied, pretty landscapes made for a great time there. However, while Slovenia lauds its cycling, I couldn’t find a digital copy of their bike routes. Luckily, the Galileo app worked well.
Chelsea gives a final switchback into Slovenia the what-for coming over the pass from Austria.
Switzerland – of course the Swiss have their cycle network totally dialed. We didn’t spend much time there, but look forward to coming back.
And that, my friends, is the logistics download for countries we visited during our European cycle tour. For countries not mentioned, I recommend simply Googling “country name + cycling network” to see if there’s a regional resource. It seems there usually is.
Europe has my vote as a great cycling destination. And we weren’t the only ones out there – I saw an incredible number of people of all ages using the excellent bike infrastructure. Don’t let the language barrier intimidate you either, as nearly everyone speaks English and people are very helpful. For your next trip there, leave the backpacks at home and try exploring on your bike. It’s an experience you won’t forget.
What resources, tools, apps or other intel do you have for anyone looking to cycle tour in Europe? This post is intended as a long-term resource that will build over time, so please add your thoughts in the comments or shoot me an email.
Climbing to the top of Reschenpass in NE Italy. With views like this, we lingered and spent over a month in the Alps.
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Inn-River-Path-Austria.jpg10651600Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2015-09-24 06:38:212019-06-10 16:09:44Resources, Links and Apps for Bicycle Touring in Europe
During breakfast in Innsbruck, an American woman nearby leaned over to chat. Lamenting a canceled flight, she lowered her voice and said conspiratorially, “we drove down from Hamburg instead of taking the train because of, you know, all the Syrian refugees.”
I didn’t counter her comment. Later, however, I couldn’t stop thinking that I should have questioned the statement instead of avoiding confrontation and burying my voice.
What I didn’t say to this woman was that Chelsea and I had recently spent hours reading about the conflict in Syria. Or that we’d researched relief organizations and were heading to Salzburg with hopes of assisting the waves of refugees arriving via train from Hungary en route to Germany.
Why do people speak of others the way she did? The refugees leaving their homeland are fleeing civil war, taking only a couple bags of possessions. Meanwhile, this lady from Virginia sat next to her starched-shirt professor husband and followed up her bigoted statement with, “thank goodness the pool here is clean.”
We learned that Germany, bucking convention, may accept 800,000 refugees by the end of the year (in comparison, the U.S. may take up to 10,000 in 2016). Now, however, German services were overwhelmed and they, along with other European countries, had shut their borders, even going so far as to pause train service from Austria. Pedaling our way toward Salzburg three days later, we noticed a mile-long line of cars at the German/Austrian border as policemen checked vehicles.
Police block the entrance to the train platforms.
Cut to the scene yesterday in the Salzburg train station. Tired families rested on any surface they could find; meanwhile, police officers blocked the train platforms. Suddenly a rush of people flowed by, mothers towing wide-eyed kids, fathers shouting and herding their family through the melee. A train was departing to Germany and the wall of police politely, but firmly, allowed a small number of individual families through. One group at a time climbed the stairs to seek their fate in the west.
We talked to a volunteer named Tomas who was providing coffee and tea for people. “The refugees live on rumors; they hear a train is coming, so they run to the platform. No train. Then one comes while they’re sleeping and they miss it. There’s no rest, no ease.” He ushered us past security and into an underground parking garage, the temporary home for hundreds of refugees who slept on folding cots or the ground. As unaffiliated volunteers, Chelsea and I helped out as we could.
Blankets and donated foam sleeping pads in the garage.
I grabbed piles of thin blankets to serve as beds and laid them on the cold, dirty concrete of the parking garage. At the same time, I studied the refugee families coping with their situation. Teenagers in hip jeans flipped through their phones. Kids played with balloons or ran around, lost in their imagination; their drawings festooned a concrete pillar, a make-shift art wall. Parents mostly sat dully, perhaps storing their energy for the next rush to the train and a fresh chance to rebuild their lives.
We returned the next day. I kicked around a soccer ball with a tireless kid, then spoke at length with a few refugees. An Iranian man in his early 20s, a light and sound engineer, had applied for amnesty in the U.S. to escape persecution for being a Christian. Two years into the process, he left home and walked for days. Sick of waiting in Salzburg, he was considering striking out on foot for the German border and asked us if we thought it was possible to cross.
I also talked to a young Syrian, Muhammad, who had paid 2,000 Euros for a ship to Greece, then shelled out many bribes to navigate Serbia and Hungary. Twenty days into the journey, he aimed to make it to Belgium or England. When I commented on his red sweatshirt, emblazoned with the American stars and stripes, he said “I love America!” Then he showed me his phone’s red, white and blue case. My thoughts returned to the breakfast conversation with the American woman in Innsbruck.
Laying out blankets while a family passes the time in the background.
I’ve encountered conversations like this too many times. The short (but unreal) discussion with a complete stranger in small-town Oregon who ranted about “the BLM and their damn gun-toting dykes” comes to mind. Or the man in Upstate New York who loathed gun control because he wanted to be able to shoot his cannon. Usually I slip into a friendly, aloof stance and excuse myself quickly. This latest chat, while relatively benign, reminds me that sticking up for others who are victims of hate and ignorance is necessary.
Dishonesty can wield the sword of an outright lie, but it can also fester in the silence of a truth unsaid. Not voicing an opinion can unwittingly condone actions or allow the speaker of hateful comments to believe their thoughts are held by everyone else. I’ve pondered this deeply since reading Sam Harris’s essay Lying during this trip, and Martin Luther King’s brilliant quote comes to mind: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
Breathing the diesel fumes wafting through the underground shelter, I made a resolution. No more will I stand with a fake smile on my face while someone spouts hate or bigotry. It’s time to engage in a respectful, firm way, to tell my side of the story and share my opinion. I’m sure the experience won’t always be comfortable, but I’m hopeful that Oscar Wilde was correct when he penned, “There comes a time when speaking one’s mind ceases to be a moral duty, it becomes a pleasure.”
—
A big thanks to our dear friend Hilary Wang for inspiring us to get involved with this issue. If anyone would like to contribute to help the refugees, The UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) is helping some of the four million people fleeing Syria; until October 13th, Kickstarter is (for the first time) helping fund raise as well. Google is currently matching contributions up to $5.5 million to UNHCR and other organizations.
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/1-DSC07555.jpg10651600Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2015-09-18 07:00:582015-10-06 13:26:44What Refugees in Salzburg Taught Me About Speaking Up
Some places stick with me like a bright splinter of happiness lodged in the memory banks. With views like the one of Lake Bohinj above, I’ll be dreaming about Slovenia for awhile.
As we climbed over the mountains out of Croatia, I didn’t know what to expect on the other side. I’d heard of the views, the friendly people, the quiet country roads perfect for cycling. As rumors tend to go, all of that was mostly true, though we did ride some narrow highways and joust with traffic here and there. The cities, even smaller ones, all featured separated bike paths, a stellar surprise. Slovenia’s capital, Ljubljana (LubJub, as we called it), is criss-crossed by a network of cycling paths with great signage that made exploring by bicycle fun. That’s more than I can say for most big cities.
A lovely night in Ljubljana.
Overall, Slovenia was a mix of beautiful terrain and a quiet, laid-back atmosphere not overrun by tourists. Prices for food and lodging were about 2/3 the price of western European countries like Belgium or Austria, and it sported good food, easy navigating and pretty cities. It’s a small country packed full of variety – rolling mountains to the southwest, a picturesque capital in the center, vineyards to the northeast, and jagged peaks of the Julian Alps to the northwest. We pedaled through it all.
After taking the ferry from Venice to Croatia, we headed NE through Slovenia, then east to Hungary before looping back west again into the Slovenian Alps.
Overall we spent three weeks in Slovenia, crossing its borders multiple times. Our favorite part, the Alps, required sweating over quad-testing 18% mountain passes to/from Austria, which was totally worth it. Lake Bled was romantic and lovely; Lake Bohinj (a place I could stay for multiple months) was an adventurer’s paradise tucked into the mountains. Bohinj featured paragliding, mountain biking, trekking, and all the fun available on a pristine mountain lake. It’s my top destination recommendation from all our time in Europe so far.
Enough said. I’ll let the pictures tell the rest of the story. Have a great weekend, everybody.
The idyllic Lake Bled and the famous church atop an island in the center.
Chelsea and Jen enjoy the view in central Slovenia.
Even in the rain, Lake Bled is uber-romantic. Where else does a heart frame a castle, after all?
Locks of love decorate a bridge in Ljubljana.
Slovenian hills don’t mess around – 15%+ grades were common, even on bike routes. The views made up for it.
Some SUPers on Lake Bohinj in the NW part of Slovenia.
Embracing the tourist life to row a swan boat out to the church in the center of Lake Bled.
Rolling through the scenic valley near Kranjska Gora in the far NW corner of Slovenia.
Chelsea throws down on a soon-to-be 18% pass north out of Slovenia into Austria. Steep in, steep out, but totally worth it!
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/09-DSC07309.jpg10651600Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2015-09-04 08:48:222015-09-04 09:42:09Eye Candy From Slovenia, My New Favorite European Country
Hitch hiking in New Zealand in 2005. Fun fact: I didn’t get picked up on that quiet road and spent the night freezing in a gravel quarry. Ah, memories.
****
I left the country at 23. It was my first trip outside the U.S., a solo, year-long adventure to explore the world.
That escapade fused new brain connections as I hitchhiked through New Zealand, played chess with my brother on the Trans-Siberian Railroad, and met my future wife in Prague. The result (other than a lingering hatred of night bus travel) was a vision for my desired future life.
Ten years later, I am back in Europe as we pedal about. Nostalgia sometimes seeps through the mountain views or enters my mind during a meal as my thoughts drift back to 2005. The iPhone was still a secret project; MySpace was an unstoppable social network giant. Ancient history, basically.
Not that I frequently think about the past. Indeed, I usually ponder actions my future self would thank me for. I want him to look back on hard-earned skills and say, “that was so worth the effort.” Right now, however, the nostalgia bulb in my head shines the spotlight backward and I can’t stop thinking about the advice I would offer to my bushy-haired self at 23 (other than to cut the fro, bro).
One thing is certain: the words and advice wouldn’t simply be my own. I’d draw from books, blogs, commencementspeeches, mentors, and kind-hearted people I’ve spent time with over the last decade.
Will I laugh and shake my head when I look back in 2025 at this list (probably through virtual reality goggles)? Maybe I’m entirely off the mark; it’s impossible to calculate the impact of this advice on my life. I’ll never know.
But if I had a time machine to 2005, I’d sit down across from myself, a cup of green tea in hand, and say:
Embrace adventure. Don’t let the one trip around the world be your last big journey. Keep pushing your limits. “People get old when they stop jumping,” I heard on a recent podcast. Treat that advice literally and as a metaphor, launching fresh challenges, projects and skills that test your boundaries and keep you hopping. The best adventures will occur at the intersection of scary and exciting.
The coast just south of Rijeka, Croatia.
Build the courage to live a life true to yourself, not the life others expect of you. Everyone feels fear. I sure do. It may stop you sometimes, but don’t let the opinions or desires of others constantly shape your life. Seek out projects that speak to you and dive in with everything you’ve got, even if others don’t agree. Think deeply about the top five regrets of the dying and use the results of those thoughts to guide your life.
Pursue poverty in your 20s. It’s going to be hard, but turn down the starter engineering job with a salary high enough to allow handcuffing yourself to debt (over-valued condos, for one). Go after that travel video job you wanted. Live below your means, but eat better food (pasta and Mrs. Dash is not a real meal, dude). Build a variety of badass skills and focus on creative competency in many disciplines. Choose yourselfand invest in constant learning. The intersection of those skills, your passion, and what the world needs is where the bubbling magic cauldron lies.
Start a mindfulness or relaxation practice. Chill the hell out, man. Enjoy a lemonade on a balcony and be present. I’ve noticed a consistent theme of successful people: space for reflection and mindfulness is a priority in their lives. Start a dedicated meditation practice (the Insight Timer app or guided meditations are great tools). Carving out time to just sit and watch a burbling stream counts too. As Pico Iyer writes, “In an age of speed, nothing could be more invigorating than going slow. In an age of distraction, nothing can feel more luxurious than paying attention. And in an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still.”
Faking serenity at Observation Point in Zion National Park.
Treat books as valued mentors. Keep reading. It’s free and will open you to new thoughts and let you shadow otherwise inaccessible people. Individual books have recharted the course of my life and served as pivot points. The Four Hour Work Week opened my eyes to a work world beyond the 9-5; Your Money or Your Lifeand the concept of time as a non-renewable resource sparked an epiphany. Biographies show me people at their best and worst, while fiction shows me the human condition. If I could choose one activity for the next ten years to shape my life in a positive way, continuing to read books on a variety of topics would be it.
That’s enough lecturing from this 30-something. What the heck do I know anyway? Maybe in 10 years I’ll be wise enough to not write posts like this!
Get out there and live it up, young gun. It’s going to be a great ride.
P.S. Buy Apple stock in January 2009 and (updated May 2021) don’t sell your Bitcoin in 2013! And, most importantly, the way to Chelsea’s heart lies in being nice to her cat, Oliver.
What would you say to your 20-something self?
Loving the views (and dedicated bike path) on the north side of the Slovenian Alps.
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/1-IMG_8152.jpg6921108Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2015-09-02 06:07:342021-05-10 11:35:08What Would You Say to Yourself at 23?
