A 10km hike from Piran to Izola, showcasing the best of this underrated slice of the Mediterranean
WITH ITS sandy beaches and sea-front bars, the Slovenian Riviera is nothing if not an invitation to take things easy. No one could be blamed, then, for spending any visit kicking back with a local Istrian wine and taking in the views of the Adriatic. Just know that, if ever you find yourself with an empty glass and a restive feeling, you’re more than covered when you want to get up and get moving.
Rock climbing might not be your thing and paddle-boarding might strike you as a bit, well, wet—but the region’s coastal paths should be inviting to anyone who wants to see more of what this underrated slice of Mediterranean has to offer. Particularly motivated tourists take note: measuring a mere 46km long, the Slovenian coastline could theoretically be conquered in a single day. For the rest of us, this 10km walk from Piran to Izola is a manageable chunk that showcases the Riviera at its most picturesque. Time to get those walking shoes.
Piran
The hike starts from St. George’s church in Piran, unmissable above the town and offering some great views down onto Tartini Square. If the church’s campanile looks familiar and rings a (figurative) bell, allow yourself a smug moment. Having grown up as part of the Venetian Republic, Piran modelled its campanile—or zvonik, as the Slovenians would call it these days—on the bell tower in St. Mark’s Square. Indeed, as you would imagine, remnants of the town’s 500-year-long membership of the republic are dotted throughout the streets; the Lion of St. Mark, symbol of the Doge, can still be seen crowning the doorway to the town hall.
Pulling yourself away from Slovenia's gem on the Adriatic might be hard but, if you can manage it, your walk will take you along the Fiesa footpath, heading east out of town. As you wander down to the rocky shoreline, slinking by the old city walls, just make sure to turn your head back: the path offers one last view of St. George’s Church, looking suddenly lonely perched on its cliff edge.
Fiesa Footpath
Down at the shingle beach, if the day is clear, you might be able to make out the port of Trieste groping above the waves to the north-east. This oft-forgotten Italian city, curled up with its back against the Slovenian border, is perhaps most famous in the English-speaking world as being the long-time home of James Joyce. The great Irish writer spent a total of 16 years living on the Adriatic, so it’s no surprise that the Slovenian Riviera—and Piran in particular—lay claim to a special role in the author’s life. According to his biographer Richard Ellman, Joyce believed that it was here that, after a night of heavy drinking and rough sleeping, he had contracted the eye infection which would eventually lead to his blindness. So who knows, maybe you’re walking the same path along which one of world literature’s great luminaries once drunkenly stumbled.
More obvious on the horizon than Trieste are the low cliffs just further along the shore. The Slovenian coast is made up of a silty mixture of marl and sandstone, which explains why these cliffs look as though they could come away in your hand—and also why the coastal path swerves inland from the shoreline at certain points en route to Izola. Erosion nibbles away about 1-2 cm of the Riviera each year. While this might not be so bad in the grand scheme of European coastal erosion—about ten times as much of the White Cliffs disappear each year from Dover, for example—you still wouldn’t trust any Slovenian cliff edge to hold your weight. The footpath to Fiesa is littered with shards of rock the size of woodchip, all with the look of having not long crumbled from the crags above.
It’s at the small resort of Fiesa itself that the road first heads back; after that trip down to sea level, it’s time to make up the ground. Climbing up through the thicketed hill might feel an ordeal, but it will lead you to some great vantage points which peek through the trees. Once at the top, the route ahead seems less evident. Thankfully the region has produced a very detailed guide outlining the way: although if using the guide, this walk only follows markers 52 to 23 in that order. In any case, the way ahead should now be signposted with a blue circle featuring a jolly stick man out for a stroll.
Strunjan
If all goes well, you’ll soon come down from the hills and out at the Strunjan saltpans. What might look today like little more than low, sodden swampland was in fact for centuries the economic engine which allowed the Slovenian coast to flourish. Salt production has existed here since at least the year 800, and Strunjan makes a claim to being one of the last saltpans in the Adriatic where the mineral is still harvested according to traditional methods. This means wooden rakes to shave the salt from the water and hand-pushed carts to transport it to drier land. Salt harvesters have a reputation as early-risers, but if you’re not lucky enough to see them in action, the path to Izola will nevertheless take you along a causeway overlooking the pans.
From there you make your way north to Strunjan beach, one of the nicest on the coast. You’re roughly halfway, so no one would hold it against you if you feel like stopping at one of the beach bars which line the promenade. At any rate, it would give you the perfect opportunity to survey how far you’ve come; turn back and there’s our old friend the Church of St. George, still sitting lonely on his cliff, his tower like one of the cypress trees which dot the Slovenian hilltops. It's back up to meet those cypresses in a minute—so maybe that rest's a good idea after all.
Moon Bay
The next leg of the walk will be the steepest, but the greatest effort brings the greatest reward: once at the top, you’ll have spectacular views of Mesečev Zaliv—or Moon Bay, as it is in English. This bay, carving a perfect crescent into the Slovenian shoreline, is the Riviera’s most impressive viewpoint. And thankfully, due to its relative isolation, its one that manages to escape the hordes of tourists that it probably deserves. Looking out over the bay, the green-blue water cloaked by the jutting cliff, you can’t help feel that things would be a lot more crowded if Mesečev Zaliv found itself on the Italian side of the Adriatic.
From the state of the sandy rock face opposite, it’s no great surprise that the path to Izola once again cuts back from the shore. For those wanting to head down and check out the wild beaches along this stretch of the coast, the possibility exists; however, the cliffs under which they’re found are so notorious for falling rocks that it’s ill-advised trying to complete the final stretch over the shingles. What you have instead is a long and easy descent from the heights of Moon Bay through rows and rows of olive groves. It’s another reminder—as if you needed it by now—that Slovenia is just as blessed as its more famous Mediterranean neighbours when it comes to serving up great produce.
It's coming out of the thick of these olive groves that you’ll catch the first glimpse of your destination: Izola. As its name might suggest—Isola, as it is to Italians—the town started life as an island in the Adriatic. It was only during the time of French domination, after Napoleon had toppled the Venetian Republic in 1797, that the city walls of Izola were torn down and used to fill in the sea which separated the island from the shore. The result is a town that looks as though it has spilled from the land and skated onto the water. Only a familiar-looking bell tower, poking out above the orange-tiled roofs, looks safe from the tides: another Venetian campanile to twin with St. George’s in Piran.
Eventually the road will weave its way down to another promenade by the waterfront. Hug it along the coast and you’ll reach the Izola marina, the largest in Slovenia and about as big as the town itself. As with any marina, it offers plenty opportunity for having a nosey at the yatchs and deciding who’s living the best life. Once you’ve had your fill or been shooed away, it's on to the old town.
With Piran drawing in the bulk of those who visit the Riviera, Izola feels more relaxed and less congested than its neighbour to the west. The town indeed has a charm unique to itself. If it's less immediately picturesque, then it’s also a more welcoming invitation to get lost; daily life in Izola seems to carry on unaware and uninterested in your visit. You're left in peace to wander its cobbled backstreets and enjoy the pleasant air of Venetian decay.
If you’re hungry then the terrace at Gostlina Doro, bordering a leafy square, is a great place to refuel with some local cuisine. It’s only a matter of time, though, before you’ll be tempted back to the waterfront. Passing by St. Maurus’s Church and its creamy pink and orange façade, you can cut down through Lighthouse Park. (Izola boasts far more green spaces than the built-up Piran). In one corner of the park you’ll find Vitaminček, a tiki beach bar with tables facing out onto the Adriatic. As the town’s seafront is oriented toward the west, it is witness to some incredible sunsets—and there’s no better place to watch them than from Bar Vitaminček. The walk has come to an end, so where better to put your feet up? After 10km, the Slovenian Riviera once again sends out its invitation too attractive to refuse: sit back and enjoy the view.
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