Plitvice Lakes has got to be one of the most beautiful natural wonders I have ever visited. They are part of a National Park established way back in 1940, (the oldest and largest in South East Europe), and it gained World Heritage status in 1979. The actual lakes section covers less than 1% of the parks total 300 square kilometre area, and it is mainly forested, home to bears, wolves and many rare birds.
I was traveling with my daughter and her friends and family this time round, and we had arrived the evening before (having got lost several times) at our very gorgeous country farmhouse stay, hosted by an equally gorgeous Croatian family. Situated close to the top of the canyon, it enabled us to have a full days hiking without the use of a car.
Next morning, fortified by a hearty Croatian breakfast, we set off to the entrance point about two kilometres away. I was immediately in a happy place walking along the quiet country lane, catching glimpses of farm life through gaps in the scrubby hedgerows. Reaching the edge of the canyon, we descended steeply to lake level, bought our tickets and boarded the little boat to take us across the lake.
This was one of the four lower lakes, formed in limestone basins along the canyon. The lake shores were steep and densely covered with forest which was just starting to tinge towards autumn golds and oranges. Another week or so and it would have been spectacular, but you cannot hold the seasons to your holiday agenda. It was a beautiful day and the lake was serene and still, the surface sparkling in the morning sunlight. Occasionally the sun picked up the silver of waterfalls on the far bank, and approaching the opposite shore, we were able to see them more clearly, slightly hidden amongst the thick foliage hanging from the banks.
Arriving at the other side, we consulted our walking path maps, decided on a route and set off towards the upper lakes. We hit the best bit straight off.
There are twelve named and many smaller unnamed upper lakes, and these cascade in a series of over ninety waterfalls to the lower lakes. These lakes, sitting on beds of impermeable dolomite, are fed from small above and underground rivers coursing over limestone and chalk. This gives the water a characteristic mineral content, when, mixed with the algae, moss and bacteria of the lakes, has created natural travertine dams, a quite unique phenomena. The travertine grows about a centimetre a year, so the dams are in constant geological change.
We were climbing through the forest, between the Upper and Lower Lakes. I love the delicacy of the European forests. The tree trunks are shorter and thicker, the leaves smaller, softer and lighter, creating filtered light that is more dappled, giving an ethereal quality. Perhaps it is because they are deciduous that they give this sense of transience, and impermanence. This path was lined with trees stunningly coated in velvet-like, brilliant green moss, accentuating their sculptural lines. All manner of toadstools dotted the ground. The undergrowth was sparse. So very different to what I am used to,
And then we came to the waterfalls! Oh my! It was like stepping into the Fairy Queen’s Grotto! They were perfection, a stunning display of nature at its best. Some dropped steeply and intensely, others steady and wide. Some created delicate veils, the water falling in soft mists, some were merely gentle trickles seeping down through the mosses, ferns and foliage. There were tiny water spouts and large rapids rambling down the hillside, shallow and unruly, creating wavelike patterns as the water rushed over rocks and the contours of the land. Boardwalks had been suspended just inches above the water, and so we were able to walk across the faces of the falls. The water formed shallow pools, swirling with aquatic plants and fish and dotted with tiny plant-laden islets. The low forest canopy kept the air cool and heavy with mist, keeping the flora dark and lush. There was a concert of sound, from the thunder of the larger falls, to the delicate trickle and drip of those more gentle, the rhythmic rush of the rapids, the soft gurgling of the water moving through the pools endlessly seeking lower ground on it’s journey to the lakes below. It was so breathtakingly beautiful, so other-worldly. I felt as if I was walking through Rivendell, the home of the Elves in Lord of the Rings. I was so captivated by the sheer beauty and intense naturalness of this place, I would not have been slightly surprised to have seen a sprite or a fairy, or another such being, appear in this magical wonderland.
I could have stayed forever, but we dragged ourselves away. stepping up the boardwalk ascending the rapids to arrive out into sunlight on the shore of an upper lake. We now crossed to the other side via another boardwalk taking us across the top of the falls line, the natural dam wall. The water was shallow and so pure you could see with perfect every vein or each leaf lying on the bottom, the marking of the fish as they darted about.
Reaching the other side, the path took us up through forests around the edges of a series of lakes on ascending levels. Breaks in the trees and various lookout points created panoramic views over the surrounding countryside and onto the various coloured lakes below. Ranging from intense aquamarines, blues and greens through to soft pale blues and greys, these colours are created by the different mineral compositions and organisms peculiar to each lake. With the paths back from the shorelines, no beaches and no picnic areas on the shores, they were a picture of perfect watersheds nestled in their pristine natural settings. And as we walked there were still more waterfalls to be seen cascading down opposite banks of the lakes, intersecting our path under a little bridge, or even flowing along with us for a while before dropping from sight below.
Eventually we had circled round to arrive at the restaurant area for some much needed food, beverages and leg rest. Duly recharged, it was now time for the Lower Canyon.
This time the path took us high along the walls of the canyons giving us majestic views down into the narrow and deeper lakes, shimmering emerald green in the afternoon sun. Really, the beauty of this whole place was such a scenic overload! Far below we could see the boardwalks starting again and sure enough, soon the path took a steep descent, and we found ourselves zigzagging down the canyon walls and back onto the lowest of the lakes.
We took a break and just leaned on the railings and gazed down. The colour of the water was glorious, still crystal clear and teeming with fish. Submerged boulders and plants gently waving in the currents were clearly visible in the depths. We were encompassed by the sound of the water now narrowing into rapids and the roar of a mighty waterfall just out of sight. Moving on again, and now crossing the lake, the boardwalk was becoming more steadily submerged, until it finally became officially deep. Off came the shoes and socks, trousers were rolled up, and backpacks held high. Being the shortest I also got the most wet. But never mind. Back on dry ground again we rounded a sharp steep bluff, and there, in front of us, was the largest waterfall of them all.
This was Veliki Slap, Croatia’s highest waterfall, plummeting 78 metres from the Plitvice River above, into the small, boulder-lined pool directly in front of us. It is the confluence of lowest lake and these falls that mark the start of the Korana River, which goes on flowing into a totally protected area.
High waterfalls are spectacular to look at but quite wet to be directly under, and this was not summer. So, stopping only to put our shoes back on and take some quick photos, it was time to head for higher ground. Unfortunately that meant up; and up was a very old, steep and narrow path clinging to the side of the bluff. It was heads down and one foot in front of the other as we carefully picked our way up that eighty odd metre cliff. Thankfully reaching the top, and taking time to survey a new view while getting the huffing and puffing under control, we moved on again, and suddenly, found ourselves back in our home lane.
With weary bodies and dry clothes we met on the terrace for well-deserved pre prandial drinks. Relaxing with our host, he regaled us with some of the Legends of the Lakes. One involved a Monk and a Cave, another a Great Famine. But the one I liked the most involved Greatly Guarded Secrets, Good Masters and Servants, Nasty Black Queen, Treasure Chest, Fairies and Other Creatures. It all ended with good triumphing over evil, the bad guys vanquished, and the fairies and company moving into the lakes, where, if you are still, they can be heard singing. So I was right! I just knew there were others there!
The day was rounded off by a truly delicious traditional feast, cooked and served by mine hosts, to which we gave full, appreciative justice. Drowsy, with tired bodies and replete stomachs, we were thinking of our beds, when in strolled Grandpa, armed with a tray of shot glasses and a bottle of homemade raki tucked under his arm. Our teenage girls considered themselves seasoned drinkers after three months backpacking alone around Europe. The bulging, watering eyes and the look on their faces as they downed their shot was the final, priceless memory of this exceptionally, amazing day,
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