Despite the picturesque nature of Brebrovnik, I had a destination in mind: Varazdin, across the border in Croatia, and I focused on the road ahead. I kept passing signs to Vinogradnistvo this or that, but I told myself these were for another visit. After all, why would they want to see a sweaty tourist pedalling an outsize bike? However something inside was calling to me, “try it, what’s there to lose? When will that other time be?” I passed another sign, Vinogradnistvo Stampar, and on a whim driven from within I twisted the handlebars right and headed up a small road that ended in vines.

A general note when travelling: follow that whim. Follow that little voice that says “why don’t we try…”. Follow that voice that wants to take you off the beaten track and out of your comfort zone.

There were about five houses in this little cul-de-sac. I must have been close but there was nowhere that looked like it housed a wine-producing facility.

As I write this I have a slight feeling of light-headedness so I must have been wrong.