India, April 15 -- Travelling solo, though trendy, comes with its own perils. No matter how many times I've done it, the butterflies remain. After years of travelling alone and acquiring a few greys of supposed wisdom, I find myself more anxious than excited about venturing out solo. Earlier, it meant packing a backpack, setting off and dealing with whatever came my way-always high on adrenaline. Now, it involves a lot of planning, like booking buses, trains, and taxis, leaving no room for spontaneity. This meticulous planning brought me to Ljubljana airport almost seven hours before my flight. Sitting in the modest yet comfortable airport, I began to reminisce about the days I spent in Slovenia, a beautiful country nestled in the Julian Alps. Known for its 14,000 caves, emerald rivers, rugged gorges and a stunning coastline, it is a haven for hikers and kayakers. But beyond the adventure, I discovered a peculiar national obsession: The chicken. My first encounter was at a charming gabled house by the Ljubljanica river. While admiring the lush kitchen garden and grapevine-draped patio, I suddenly found myself surrounded by seven robust hens. They appeared from nowhere and began pecking at me as if seeking vengeance for every nugget I'd ever consumed! I beat a hasty retreat and later learned that the section of the garden was their exclusive territory; once I respected the boundary, we became tentative friends. The next morning, during my first guided group tour, our driver and guide-a warm, witty woman-began by saying, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the country that looks like a chicken!" She explained, "Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, is the belly, the east is the beak, and the northern mountains form the head and crown." We scrambled for our maps and, sure enough, the chicken shape was unmistakable. The theme continued at breakfast. The free-range eggs from Slovenia's "happy" hens were nearly twice the size of those back home, resulting in the most delicious omelette I've ever tasted. Whether in remote villages or the capital, hens were ubiquitous-not just as livestock, but as beloved pets. Community parks and private gardens had coops, and it was delightful to watch cats and hens playing together. The obsession permeates their craft, too. Souvenir shops were packed with ceramic, wooden, metal, and even crocheted hens. On my final evening in the country, I visited a restaurant serving authentic Slovenian cuisine; its mascot was a handcrafted hen so enormous it rivalled the mythical Jatayu from our Ramayana. Ironically, Slovenian mythology officially reveres the dragon-a symbol that guards their bridges and towers. Yet, the modern, lived reality of the people seems firmly feathered. Perhaps that is the true beauty of travelling solo: It grants you the quiet space to notice the small, quirky pulse of a place, even if it is not popular or touristy....