Blood really is thicker than water. Even when that water is as wide as the Atlantic and the blood thinned by  four generations  and  100 years of living two continents apart.  We stepped onto the rain soaked tarmac of Ljubljana airport with some trepidation.  What would our “cousins” think of us? Would we have anything to talk about? Were those old letters I found in a great-aunt’s belongings enough of a connection?

We needn’t have worried. From the moment Tomaz greeted us at the arrival gate, we were thrust into the bosom of the family.  Home after home was opened to us. Third and fourth cousins, removed only in name, were introduced. Slovenian culinary specialities–Pogaca(welcome bread) Prsht (cured ham), homemade wine and numerous varieties of our childhood favorite Potica–were placed before us. We were escorted to the village festival and introduced to friends and neighbors. We quickly learned that “come in for five minutes” means at the very least a glass or two of wine and more likely plates of food and and a review of old family photos.

Cousin Tone brought us to the houses where each of my great grandparents were born, still owned and occupied by family members. Cousin Amalija and Vasilij led us up windy gravel roads to their family vineyard–complete with plenty of samples, of course. Cousin Vasko pulled out an ancient looking wooden ladder and climbed a cherry tree, filling a pail with ruby fruit that Katie and Lizzie quickly made disappear.  Gregor instigated an impromptu soccer match much to Katie’s delight.

At the end of two days we felt overwhelmed with kindness and generosity. We could have easily gone home and felt our vaction was complete, the remaining week completely unnecessary.  But a few days later Tomaz phoned us and invited us to visit them once again, this time at their vacation apartment on the Croation coast, putting an exclamation point our best European adventure yet.