Piran is a small slice of seaside paradise. Located on Slovenia’s border with Italy this pedestrianized town of barely 4,000 allows visitors a taste of Venice at decidedly Balkan prices.
Picturesque, sleepily atmospheric and deeply multicultural Piran or Pirano in Italian, lies at the tip of a narrow peninsula on the Slovenian coast. Its Old Town is one of the best-preserved historical towns anywhere on the Adriatic and a gem of Venetian Gothic architecture. It’s hard not to fall instantly in love with its winding alleyways, sunsets and seafood restaurants.
As the sun rises above the Adriatic, Piran is splashed with an enchanting pink hue. The palette of colour deepens the reflected pink of the lighthouses, palazzos, and peninsula church. Just in time to enjoy the sunrise the waterfront cafés open for the early rises with the delicious smell of freshly baked pastries and fresh coffee.
Sitting on the chalky rocks, overlooking the sea, eating my burek – the quintessentially Balkan blend of phyllo pastry and mincemeat – I take in the beautiful surroundings and enjoy the peace and quiet of the early morning.
Downtown, crooked cobblestoned streets wend into each other under faded marble archways, past candle-strewn shrines to the Virgin Mary while on the pier fisherman unravel their fishing nets. Nearby market woman deliver vegetables fresh from the gardens to the market as locals sit and chat above the sounds of the sea and greet you with a nod.
Like most Adriatic coastal settlements Piran spent most of its history controlled by the splendid doges of Venice and it has the ornate baroque architecture to match, especially around marbled Tartini Square. And though streets like Via Karl Marx and Via Lenin belie Slovenia’s recent communist past, the influence of earlier times dominate.
Piran’s captivating silence and marvellous Balkan prices feel a world away from the high-season frenzy of nearby Venice or Le Marche. When you’re watching the moon appear on the horizon over the marina and the Tartini Square musicians take up their violins once again, you’ll be staring at the same, star-dappled sky.
