🌿 “I Came for a Break. I Left with a New Pace of Life.”
It wasn’t a grand plan—just a short escape to the coast, away from work emails and never-ending notifications. April seemed right. Not too hot, not too crowded. I booked a room at Hotel Tomi on a whim, drawn by the sea views and quiet reputation. What I didn’t expect was how quickly the place would slow me down—in the best way possible.
This is how one day unfolded. Maybe you’ll find yourself in it too.
08:12 – The View
I didn’t set an alarm. I didn’t need to. The sunlight through the curtains and the faint sound of seagulls did the job. I pulled the curtains wide open and just stood there. Below me: tiled rooftops, olive trees, and beyond that, the calm shimmer of the Adriatic. I don’t think I’ve ever taken this long to look at nothing—and feel so full.
09:20 – Breakfast, Gently
Breakfast at Hotel Tomi isn’t a rush. It’s not a buffet you attack. It’s a panoramic window, a coffee you actually taste, and local cheese and honey you don’t forget. Everyone’s in soft clothes. No urgency. Just the low hum of contentment.
A couple next to me was planning a hike. An older woman was writing postcards. I just watched the bay change colors.
11:00 – The Coastal Trail
I followed the Portorož promenade to Piran, passing joggers, cafés setting up for lunch, and the occasional dog walker who smiled as if we shared a secret. The sun was warm but not sharp. April lets you move without sweating.
Tartini Square was alive but not loud. I ordered a tea and sat in silence. People wandered, pigeons strutted, and a small boy chased soap bubbles with unfiltered joy. It felt like the perfect version of a European postcard, only I was inside it.
14:15 – Olive Groves and Unexpected Art
The staff at Hotel Tomi suggested a visit to the Forma Viva sculpture park in Seča. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but what I found was… poetic. Massive stone sculptures tucked into an open hilltop meadow, overlooking the sea. No fences. No crowds. Just art, wind, and space.
On the walk back, I passed a tiny family-run olive oil shop. I tasted something peppery and real. I bought two bottles. I’ll probably never use them—they’re souvenirs of flavor.
17:40 – A Table at COB
Dinner that night was something special. I had managed to reserve a spot at COB, the Michelin-starred restaurant tucked into Portorož’s hillside. The setting was minimalist, refined, almost meditative—like the food was the only thing that mattered.
There was no menu to choose from. Just trust. A seasonal degustation journey crafted with local ingredients, plated like art, and each course paired with carefully selected Slovenian wines. I didn’t take photos. I just let it happen—flavors unfolding slowly, stories told in texture and scent.
By the final bite, I wasn’t thinking about ingredients or stars or guides. I was just still. Content. Grateful.
21:00 – Not the End, Just Stillness
No clubs. No late-night drama. Just a walk back to my room. A cup of herbal tea. The glow of Portorož in the distance. My phone had stayed in the drawer for most of the day.
And I realized something: this wasn’t just a vacation. This was a recalibration.
April on the coast doesn’t entertain you—it centers you.
