Our cameras just don't seem up to the job. We stand slack-jawed along a wooded trail trying to capture the brilliant turquoise of the river in the Tolmin gorge below. Coming from Western Canada, I have seen my share of glacial water, but the rivers in the Soca Valley region of Slovenia are so postcard perfect that our cameras are hopelessly outmatched. While preparing to leave for this Central European nation, friends repeatedly asked; "Why Slovenia?" Well, it hadn't been on my bucket list either frankly. What would the first nation to leave the former Yugoslavia and the only one in the EU have to offer besides an abundance of consonants? I was charmed immediately by the capital city Ljubljana, but I became a convert in Most na Soci (meaning bridge at Soci). This small valley town at the confluence of three rivers epitomizes the Slovenian experience. I tasted my first burek, a cheese pastry I can't stop dreaming of here, accordion music accompanied us, and of course, the 138-kilometre-long Soca River beguiled us here. One day, we cycled along a sun-dappled well-maintained riverside trail in the morning, paddled Soca's calm waters in the afternoon and watched from the sidelines as a national bike race sped by (sheer bike shorts and all). The next day we walked the Tolmin Gorge trails; then carried on for another kilometre up to a tiny village. Hot and tired, we were rewarded with panoramic views, beer, homemade cheese and conversation with the owner's son. Worth every step. Slovenia turned out to be a gorgeous mix of Western Canada nature and old Europe charm complete with red tile roofs, ubiquitous castles and families bringing in the hay with a scythe, a rake and broad shoulders. Photogenic scenes of nature, architecture and public art abound. The country is so small you can enjoy an early morning hike or ski in the Julian Alps, check out magnificent caves mid-afternoon and arrive at the coast in time for a late dinner. All at a much cheaper price than its more well-known neighbours. (Our mid-morning cup of coffee doubled in price the day we crossed into Italy.) Outdoor enthusiasts come here for the fly fishing, the 10,000 km of hiking trails, the white water kayaking and calm water canoeing, the bird watching and the biodiversity. Thrill seekers leap off cliffs and paraglide in perfect thermals soaking in glorious views, they scream down mountain-bike trails that have made Slovenia the European centre for mountain bike competitions. Or they join the pelotons of touring cyclists racing through pretty towns and villages on route to a finish line. I am no thrill seeker, though I did long to hang in those thermals with the 20-odd others we saw floating past Heidi-like peaks and pastures into verdant valleys. My newly acquired fear of heights stopped me, but I now wish I had pushed myself a little and jumped tandem with a guide. It would have been magnificent. About the size of Switzerland, Slovenia is known for its focus on sustainability. Over a third of it is protected, 60 per cent is forested, including a virgin forest. Each year, more than 1.2 million more trees are planted.

But Slovenia hasn't always been a peaceful place to commune with nature. From the Romans in the sixth century on, its history is pockmarked with tales of cruelty, war and foreign domination. The Peace Museum in Kobarid shows in graphic detail how more than 100,000 men died in an ultimately fruitless, but ferocious alpine battle for territory, including Trieste, Italy. A trail through the area called The Walk of Peace traces some of the unforgiving terrain these men trod in coldest 1914 winter. Both world wars, the Communist era and the Ten Day War to independence in 1991 all shaped these people and forged the pride they show for their homeland. Despite decades of foreign domination, it has remained 83 per cent Slovene, but in a nod to peaceful coexistence, both Italians and Hungarians with only 0.4 per cent of the population combined enjoy protected status with a seat in parliament. While it still has to work out a few kinks to become thoroughly wired for tourism, Slovenia's charm helped us forgive its old-school arrangements. Not for long, I suspect. Like so much of central and southern Europe, tourism may be all that can keep the creditors at bay. Requiring guests to wire payment for accommodations in the mountains, as we had to for our cabin in Most na Soci, has got to go. Still, the cabin offered a central locale from which to explore the Goriska region. Some scenes from the film Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian were filmed in the Soca Valley. I was touring the country with two women friends. In our mid-50s and reasonably fit, we were up for adventures, but also for wine tasting, car touring and slow days at the beach. Slovenia is divided into 11 regions each with its own delights to discover. We chose to focus on three of them: the pretty capital city Ljubljana, the mountainous region of Goriska and the coast and karst region bordering the Adriatic Sea. With a population not quite reaching 300,000, Ljubljana's economy still buzzes around its old city where you can see vestiges of the five millennia of its history, including the remains of the Roman city of Emona and the medieval castle (now a museum and culture centre). Baroque building facades, decorative portals and uneven roofs complete the picture. Lined on both sides by outdoor cafés, bars and restaurants, I loved the way the Ljubljana River bisects the town providing a picturesque urban path. The streets and squares contain an impressive array of public art including a series of bizarre sculptures that resemble the zombies who stole the Black Pearl from Captain Jack Sparrow (in Pirates of the Caribbean). Most striking is a series of beautiful bridges spanning the river at convenient junctions. We stayed in a small Air BnB apartment two blocks from the Dragon Bridge, so named for the four dragons guarding the river from each corner. It is one of the most photographed sights in the city and made a perfect landmark for us to find our way home.