Communication at all levels is so important. It never ceases to amaze me how helpless we can be. Words, the ability to speak, the skill to sign, are massive tools. We take it all for granted. If only some language was universal. I had plenty of time to ponder this in Slovenia last week as I tried desperately to communicate with Granny!

We arrived to our farm stay. Tim and Diarmuid stayed in the car while I went in to suss it out. It was a long building. The front door was locked. Down at one end there was a side building with the door open. The opening was clothed in a beaded curtain to keep the light out. An elderly woman peeped through, spouting Slovene. She ran in and out of the curtain throwing her hands skyward and continually talking. Her distress was obvious. I looked behind to see if she was talking to someone else. Alas, it was just me. She came forward. I showed her my reservation. She gestured to me to go away! We stood there helpless. I hadn’t a word of Slovene and she had no English. I was thinking of the men waiting in the car! So I stood my ground. I knew I’d paid in full for the six nights ahead.

Being a woman of resources; Granny ran out to the road and looked up and down. There was a young mother wheeling a baby in a buggy. She dragged her in, talking non-stop. In the small rural village of Vitovlje, they all knew each other. It could be Matehy in Cork or Moyne in Co Tipperary. The young Mum came to our rescue, writing down our details. It was 3pm in the evening. Granny wanted to know “what time we wanted breakfast?” That would be her next hurdle.

WHERE TO EAT?

We relaxed for a few hours enjoying the green countryside. That evening we searched for somewhere to eat! With the help of Google and GPS we drove to three different restaurants to find them closed. In a service station, a young girl behind the counter had good English. She sent us to a fine restaurant where we got a meat platter fit for kings. Tim and I chatted about how the generational change was so visible. Young people had good English whereas the older generation hadn’t a word.

Slovenia joined the EU in 2004. It is evidenced by lots of road building and new motorways. There are a great number of lorries travelling the roads. Farming is very mixed with small plots of maize, lucern, old meadow grass and productive vegetable plots. Ordered lines of lush and perfectly manicured vineyards dot the countryside.

We saw the odd few red cows grazing and a couple of small herds of goats. We spied one family turning hay in the field with pitch forks. Nearby a farmer was drawing hay home in a forage wagon; the top was laced in twine for fear a sop would be lost. The elderly man eyed us warily and didn’t return our salute.

BREAKFAST TIME

The following morning we came down for breakfast that Granny had all laid out; a basket of the freshest bread wrapped in a linen napkin, honey along with a lighter and little containers (presumably to be heated), three various marmalades, a platter of Slovenian meats and cheese, freshly sliced and grilled zucchini, hot coffee and hot milk, the makings of various teas were on the side.

As we settled to eat, she was returning again with hot toast, roasted vegetables and hot sugared pancakes. Her final visit brought fresh water and apple juice. She touches my arm by way of communication. We smile at each other. How I wished to communicate with this woman and to hear her story.

Later, I went out to sit on the little balcony. I could hear her talking loudly on the phone. Some calls sounded like ordering supplies or taking bookings, others sounded like fun chats with her friends.

They might even have been about her Irish visitors and the stress of us. Her radio was on and she was breaking eggs. The balcony was surrounded by Wisteria in bloom, looking out on a busy countryside.

I could hear laughter and tractors working. The vines in the field in front of me were dead still and laden with bursting bunches of green grapes. A line of olive trees formed the boundary along the road. Red, clay tiled roofs, atop fine houses, dotted the countryside. A man flew by, singing as he pedalled his bike. Two huge black bees were gathering nectar from the Wisteria.

In many ways, it could have been Ireland but twenty years ago. The prosperity that the European Union brings to countries cannot be denied. Yet, the Brexiteers press on!