One Day in Ljubljana> Slovenian city a stroller’s paradise, filled with historical, visual and cultural splendor

Ever since I took a solo backpacking trip to England 13 years ago, I have been waiting to travel alone again. It’s not that I don’t enjoy having a sidekick. Quite the contrary: A good friend can add both spark and safety to an adventure.

Still, I like hitting the sidewalks of a foreign land alone. It generates, in equal parts, a sense of determination, independence and accomplishment. I admit, however, to feeling somewhat out of practice in this combination when I recently found myself alone for the day in Ljubljana, Slovenia.

Just where, you might ask, IS Slovenia? It’s a good question — one that I had to ask myself, and one that I have had to answer many times over. Even the tourism department there humorously asks that question. For the record, Slovenia is one of the former Yugoslavian states, one of the Balkans, and is snuggled against Italy, Austria, Hungary and Croatia.

Also for the record: Any worries I had about traveling alone in Ljubljana, a capital city of 280,000, were dashed. This is a gentle city, where walking is a way of life, flowers are sold on the street corners, and even the teen-agers wait for the crosswalk sign before stepping into the street. While Slovenian is the official Slavic language, several others, including English, are part of the daily conversation, especially in tourism and business trades.

And there are conversations to be had. I met several young Slovenes who were eager to test their English skills and to talk about life before and after the fall of communism in their homeland. One twentysomething man, who was working as a driver and tour guide for an American TV crew on location in Ljubljana, told me there is more opportunity now for someone who wants to reach for the stars. The gross domestic product per person has doubled in the last 10 years, which means entry to the European Union is no longer a pipe dream but is a reasonable aspiration.

In addition to being one of the fastest-growing European cities, Ljubljana (pronounced LYOO blee YAH nuh) is a people place. The walkers, plus outdoor cafes, pubs, markets and squares, make this an easy place to blend — especially if you wear black, the pathologically favorite color of urbanites. While it is the largest city in Slovenia, where the total population is about 2 million and, like Maine, mostly rural, it is still small by European standards.

If you demand luxury with every step, stick with Paris. Or London. Or stay home. If you enjoy being an on-foot tourist, Ljubljana is completely manageable in one, albeit well-organized, day.

My own tour began far above the city at Ljubljana Castle. This is a serious hike up, reminiscent of Bangor’s nearby Bald Mountain, though perhaps less steep in places and majestically picturesque in its own way. From the castle’s tower, the expanse of the city and beyond into the northwestern range of the Julian Alps is breathtaking. Mount Triglav, which at just over 9,000 feet is Slovenia’s highest point, is another day-trip away. But the castle, with its view over the red-tiled roofs of the old city, is a for-sure stopping spot, a good place for a cappuccino or a refreshing glass of Slovene beer, Union Pivo.

The fortress itself is the best symbol of Slovene history. Ljubljana has had occupants since 3000 B.C., and came under Austrian control from medieval times until 1918, when it was dubbed capital of Slovenia. In 1929, this kingdom was renamed Yugoslavia, and included the Slovenes, Serbs and Croats.

During World War II, Ljubljana and Slovenia were occupied first by the Italians and then by the Germans, a history one tour guide I met did not want to discuss. After the war, the communists came to power. In our own time, we are familiar not only with the dictatorship of President Josip Broz Tito, but with the sense of unrest in this part of the world. It continues, of course, in neighboring countries. But Slovenia, with a population that is 90 percent Slovene, has no ethnic rivalries.

Strong-willed and proud, Slovenia was destined to secede from the oppression of state rule. It has always been the most progressive and economically hardy of the six republics, but it was lagging and edgy under communism. In 1991, Slovenia declared its independence, fought a 10-day war against the Yugoslav military, held its ground, and, victoriously, Ljubljana, which means “beloved,” was rechristened the capital of a new republic. This entire history is well-documented in the Museum of Modern History, dedicated largely to the spoils of war and the rise of industry in a land where outside rule has been the predominant theme for centuries.

While all this makes for a more informed visit to Ljubljana, none of it is necessary to enjoy the cobblestone sidewalks and crooked, narrow streets in the old city at the bottom of the castle’s mount. From here, it is a short walk to the half a dozen small bridges that cross the Ljubljanica River. Here, too, is the popular public market, where crafts workers, farmers and merchants sell their wares — clothes, fruit, herbs, flowers and Slovene tourist items such as lace doilies, candles, glassworks, jewelry and wood carvings.

One dollar equals about 200 Slovene tolars, so a bar of creamy Slovene chocolate priced at 100 tolars makes for a great snack. Or better yet, a loaf of wheat bread and goat cheese, or a pizza. For unambitious American taste buds, there is also a downtown McDonald’s. American soft drinks, not to mention American music, are ubiquitous.

But don’t think the Slovenes have sacrificed their national character in the name of so-called progress. Italian and Viennese fare are common, but Slovene food, including veal and pork and potatoes, is rich and heavy. The signature Slovene dessert is a cream cake that sits about 3 inches high and has one layer of a custardlike cream and another of thick whipped cream. Forget about calories: You’ll walk this one off.

But not in Preseren Square, the central spot in the city, where a statue of national poet France Preseren is a meeting spot for tourists, a hangout spot for teens and a testament to this city’s cultural heritage. At one side of the square is the Franciscan Church, with its bold pink facade. Across from it, as if beckoning to the religious masses, is a triple bridge, three fingers that send believers out into the world.

Across those bridges is the yellow-domed St. Michael’s Cathedral, with an interior of golden baroque designs. On Sunday, the churches are full with young families. Remarkably, many teen-agers are also in attendance.

It’s a short walk — about 10 blocks — to the cultural center of the city, which is home to the Opera House, the National Gallery and Modern Museum of Art. My favorite of these buildings was the art gallery. The collection is entirely manageable in about a half-hour. While many of the pieces chronicle bourgeois life, others display the artistry of local painters, such as Jozef Tominic, Michael Stroj, the Subic brothers, and Ivana Kobilca, the first Slovene woman to have a formal art education and to be introduced at the Salon Exhibition in Paris in 1891.

Some critics say that Slovene artists have been both meager and overlooked. In a way, this describes Slovenia in general. There’s talk of the country’s importance during the Napoleonic Wars and the French Revolution. And of course, there are the events of 1991. But I suspect Ljubljana isn’t so much recapturing a lost glory as it is finding a new glory. With three orchestras, four professional theaters, academies of music, theater and fine arts, and international center for graphic art, an international jazz festival and an international summer festival throughout July and August, it appears as if Slovenia has sophisticated priorities. If some people feel Slovenia is a diamond in the rough, then it’s undeniable that with each new polish, it becomes closer to shining with true brilliance.

Nearby the museums is Tivoli, a manor house built by Jesuits that now houses another art collection. This mini Versailles sits in the center of Tivoli Park, where parents take children to play, lovers go to talk, the elderly to stroll, and joggers to exercise. A circuit of trails, outdoor sculptures, in-line skating tracks and fountains make this another perfect people-watching spot for a rest.

The exploration could have happily stopped here, near a bus stop that would carry me back to a pastoral pension, which cost about $17 a night and was about 15 minutes outside of town. The bus ride alone would be a lovely way to end the day.

Instead, I set off in search of a restaurant for dinner and chose to eat Italian food, which, compared to Italian family restaurants in America, was excellent.

There are other points of interest in Ljubljana. I longed to hear an opera by Korsakov, Stravinsky, Puccini, Mozart, Golob or Glinka — all of whose works were being performed in repertory at the Opera House.

I decided to stroll again through the old city, then on to admire examples of art nouveau and baroque architecture, then to the old Jewish section, and back to the central square, which was picking up an evening beat.

My day in Ljubljana had come to a full and rich end, and I headed to the bus stop thinking this city would be an ideal honeymoon spot. You could spend four or fives days at a Slovene luxury hotel (which can cost as little as $100 a night). When you were ready to come up for air, there would be Europe outside your window.

Not just because of the romance, but because of the human scale, the big beauty and the tiny beauty tucked away up high on building facades, it’s clear how Ljubljana acquired the name “beloved.”

Brnik Airport is about 20 minutes outside of Ljubljana and is served by several major airlines. Buses and airport shuttles provide local transportation to and from the airport. Since ATMs are not widely available in Slovenia, use the one at the airport to exchange money. A downtown bus and train station offers transportation to other tourist spots in Slovenia and surrounding countries. Several centrally located hotels and restaurants are within walking distance. I had trouble finding up-to-date travel guides, but the director at the Slovenian Tourist Office in New York City was helpful, pleasant and informative. For information, call (212) 358-9686.