Cool Ljubljana

From military barracks to artists' commune, Metelkova makes the perfect base for exploring Ljubljana's more creative side

Featured January 11 Words by Tim Richards & Marie Cleland
Manca Juvan
Cool Ljubljana

It's not every hostel room that features a demolition hole as a window. But then Hostel Celica in Ljubljana (8 Metelkova; from �14, book at www.easyJet.hostelworld.com) is not the average backpacker's bolthole. "The bed is shaped like a boat and one corner of the room is open from when they tried to demolish the building," says Toma� Juvan, director of Ljubljana's most cutting-edge hostel. "The building started as an Austro-Hungarian military prison. Then later on it was Italian, then German, and then it belonged to the People's Army of Yugoslavia. In the end it was a political prison; our ex-prime minister was once held here."

These days the guests at Celica (literally, "the cell") are free to come and go as they please, and the hostel does a roaring trade in tourists eager to explore the coolest corners of Ljubljana. But for decades the odds have been stacked against the little artists' enclave that started its life as military barracks.

When Slovenia won its independence from Yugoslavia in 1991 the barracks were left empty and Metelkova became a derelict slum that seemed fated to become the site of new apartment blocks. Before gentrification could begin, however, the abandoned military buildings were colonised by artists who banded together, invigorated by their sudden freedom from communist rule. They made their home in Metelkova, and when the demolition balls arrived the squatters refused to leave.

"They brought the machines and started demolition," Juvan proudly remembers, "but the artists protected the building with their own bodies." Nowadays Metelkova's occupants have developed a better relationship with the city authorities, but there's still an air of uncertainty within its painted and postered walls, and that's partly what gives the enclave such an edge as a centre of art and nightlife.

Hostel Celica is the most official part of modern Metelkova. Decked out in bright colours, it's hard to believe it was ever a prison. Inside it's a big airy building of flagstone corridors and dorms, with an excellent caf� and art gallery on the ground floor. In pride of place, however, are its private rooms that are in fact renovated cells, still with their barred doors attached. Acclaimed British sculptor Antony Gormley added statues in the floor of Cell 119, while Cell 116 features a suspended bed, walls covered with quasi-mystical characters, cryptic text and a monumental light installation resembling a sunburst. Just down the hall is Cell 111, with its window created by a demolition ball.

Beyond the hostel lies the heart of Metelkova, its former military structures clustered around two large connected squares. Both are filled with revellers around midnight on a chilly Friday evening, Metelkova's busiest night of the week. It's an easy, sociable scene and there's lots of lively talk among clusters of friends in the dim half-light, where they stand surrounded by the scuffed and graffitied walls of bars and clubs.

Tiny space Jalla Jalla (www.myspace.com/jallajallaclub) is pumping reggae out from within its bohemian, much-repainted walls. As the DJ spins his tracks, the patrons drink, smoke and sway away the evening, while over in Pri Marichi (tel: +386 (0)1 813 627) the 1930s are in full swing, in odd contrast to the Metallica and Sex Pistols posters that line the club's walls. Nearby venues cover a range of interests, from music, film and theatre at Klub Gromka (www.klubgromka.org) to ska, punk, rock, metal, reggae and funk at Gala Hala (tel: +386 (0)1 813 627), making for an eclectic (and occasionally disorientating) night out.

As cool as Metelkova is, though, you'd be missing out if you never left its confines. Heading southwest from Metelkova past the glamorous art nouveau buildings that were erected after a massive earthquake in 1895, you reach Pre�ernov Trg. It's an attractive square dominated by a statue of Slovenia's renowned poet France Pre�eren, with a corresponding modern statue of his muse Julija Primic gazing at him from a false window in a building across the square. It's all very grand and historic, with a view toward Ljubljana Castle high above the opposite bank. Cross the Ljubljanica River and head south along the riverside pedestrian promenade, however, and you're entering a zone of cool, understated caf�s with water views and covered outdoor seating.

One of the best of the riverside caf�s is Drago F Tinta (27 Gallusovo Nabre�je, tel: +386 (0)1 425 3115), named after the late Slovene-Chilean author. The sign outside, beautifully hand-drawn in a new typeface every few months, sets the scene for celebrating the written word. Pass underneath a fascinating wood-panelled ceiling and you get to a bookshelf where people exchange titles for free - bring a book you've already finished and you can swap it for something else to read on the flight home.

It's a wonderful way to foster community, and there's a similarly friendly feel at music shop Spin Vinyl (13 Gallusovo Nabre�je, www.spinvinyl.si), where Katarina Accetto sells records and offers an informal tourist information service. "We enjoy living and working here and meeting like-minded people who come to our shop," says Accetto, who owns Spin with her husband. The shop's cult following includes both residents and tourists, and they buy music sung in Slovene as much as they buy more international offerings (the Slovene punk, in particular, is worth a listen). In return, Accetto dishes out information on her city, from upcoming concerts, to maps and cool sightseeing tips. In January, she says, she likes to sip mulled wine (kuhano vino) or coffee after a walk along the river. And if you visit in February, she continues, you'll see the city come alive with the Pu�t festival, the banishing of winter with colourful costumes and masks.

One of Ljubljana's best restaurants is just a few minutes from Spin Vinyl, but it sits at the opposite end of the "cool" spectrum - while Spin is quirky and alternative, Valvas'or is sleek and sophisticated. If you want new and exciting, dine here. "We have a young team of waiters and cooks who put their hearts into giving you an excellent experience," says manager Sa�a Pejic. Locally sourced ingredients are prepared in a fusion of Asian and Mediterranean styles, and the standards of the architecture, design and food all show an international ambition - this is a restaurant that wants to be talked about outside of Slovenia.

But while he's working to put his city on the global culinary map, Pejic enjoys the benefits of living and working in one of Europe's smaller capital cities. "When summer comes you can just pick up a bottle of wine and some food, sit on the banks of the river and enjoy spending time with friends. One of my favourite things about Ljubljana is that it feels cosy, like being at home, even if you're just visiting. It's a small city and I think that helps to make it more friendly than other places."

For a first-hand taste of Slovenian culture, make the journey to the newly renovated Modern Art Museum (14 Tom�ic˘eva, www.mg-lj.si) - one of Ljubljana's most ambitious artistic projects. It's packed with exhibits on everything from Communist-era architecture to Slovenian comic-book art, and offers an insight into the characteristics that make this small country and its even smaller capital unique.

"Some may say it's too small, but you have all the most interesting cultural institutions just five minutes walk from each other, and from the woody outskirts. It's a rare contrast," says curator Igor �panjol. In his eyes, modern Ljubljana is a perfect city for visitors. "These days we have more shops, restaurants and caf�s," he explains. "Our old city centre has been renovated and closed to traffic and we get a lot more tourists coming to the city. Bosnian isn't the only foreign language on the streets of Ljubljana anymore."