Thursday Doors 31/8/23: Izola

Today I’ll show you where I was last week, twice, and where I’ll be again tonight: Izola, a town that used to be an island.

As I write this, it’s raining, it’s raining… The feeling is autumnish. The summer is going to go. In ten days I’ll be back in Tuscany. But before I leave I’m waiting for something: for the ball games to end.

Nine days ago, on a Tuesday morning, we hopped on the boat, parents and relatives and bestia, and thirty minutes later disembarked in Izola where we had two hours before returning on the same boat. We spent it on coffee and a pistachio croissant at Bife pri Kralju, “Bar at the King”, a legendary and beautifully colourful bar with live music on Thursdays, owned by musician Mef, who once wrote a song about it with friends and who came to sat at our table for a while since he is friends with my parents.

Here is another song by him that I really like, in which he sings that we are younger, prettier, better, smarter, stronger, louder and braver than it seems.

And now our Tuesday. The funny thing was that I returned there this Saturday to see my poet friends. We agreed to meet at the same bar and when I arrived, behold – they were sitting at the same table. And on Monday they managed to flee to Ljubljana just before the storm broke and the sea decided to come up once again.

But the best bit is that I’ll return there tonight with my incoming sister and a friend because it’s Thursday and Brina will sing at the King.

The first photo continues where my previous post ended: look there in the bottom left-hand corner, there is the wall with the murals and the basket.

Goodbye, Piran.

Hello, Izola!

Funny bit: the bicycle stand beer ad on the left is saying: “Ride it soberly.”

Under the double arch.

A nice blue one.

Showing the sea levels from 2019 and 2008.

Mom and dad at the high water marks.

The double arch from the other side.

They know what they are up against.

A pretty brown one.

Father pointing at something.

Mom’s cousin under a playful tree.

A courtyard of colours.

An old building next to the King.

When you see this, you know that you have arrived.

The Bar at the King is surrounded by doors.

Mr. Hemingway.

Mrs. Hemingway in hiding (click to view in full).

Amazing pistachio croissant and flags.

All together now. The stage is waiting to be assembled on the right.

This fountain gave the name to the Thursday concert venue: Largo Pri špini.

As if they knew, my poet friends chose the same table four days later.

A couple of night door scenes.

I should do it more often.

For Thursday Doors challenge hosted by Dan at No Facilities