Wild Castles (2017–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Predjama: Hidden Caves of Slovenia - full transcript

Eastern Europe is
a wild and dramatic place,

a territory of craggy mountains
and harsh terrain.

Deep in its remote heart

lies a forbidding
and impregnable structure,

the largest cave castle
in the world.

It's called Predjama,

and its intimidating walls
and stunning backdrop

hide life-and-death stories
of struggle and survival.

Here, in the Middle Ages,

a renegade knight
- caught between empires-

sought safety behind its walls.



Animals, too, vie for
protection in its shadow.

But this place
is not for the weak.

These mountains are filled
with danger and deception...

Porous rocks
spew raging torrents...

Lakes come and go
like ghostly apparitions...

And bizarre creatures
lurk in the shadows.

This is the story of Predjama.

WILD CASTLES - SEASON 1
EP - 3 - Predjama: Hidden Caves of Slovenia

The Predjama cave castle
lies in what is today Slovenia,

south of the Austrian Alps
and east of Northern Italy.

The landscape
is epic and powerful.

It's known as the Karst
- limestone mountains

with steep, water-carved
canyons riddled with caves.

It's also filled with life.



All manner of wild beasts
roam these forests.

Historically,
the 267-square mile

Karst region was known mostly

for the port of Trieste
on the Adriatic Sea,

where salt from the region

was shipped
across the Mediterranean.

In the late 15th century,
two superpowers,

the Austrian Habsburgs
and the Kingdom of Hungary,

were vying
for control of the port

and the surrounding plateau.

But it was a single individual
- a notorious knight-

who gave rise to the legend that
has come to define the Karst.

His name was Erasmus Leuger,

a Habsburg nobleman

living in the great
Habsburg city of Vienna.

In the fall of 1483,

Erasmus killed another nobleman
to defend a friend's honor,

then fled into the Karst
to avoid death himself.

He had a particular
hideaway in mind.

His family owned the remote
mountain fortress of Predjama.

Built in the 12th century,

the castle sat in
the mouth of a mountain cave,

and had been owned by other
noblemen before Erasmus.

But the cave's history
of human occupation

starts eons before that.

As long ago as the Stone Age,

its caverns had offered
people protection.

It seemed like
a perfect hideaway

for an outlaw like Erasmus,

though others
might have been fearful

of evil omens in the air.

Ravens, thought of in medieval
times as heralds of doom,

also call the castle home.

Despite their shady
reputation as scavengers,

these birds are actually
excellent providers,

using cleverness and cunning
to raise their young.

Like Erasmus, the ravens use
the steep cliff walls

of the Karst for protection.

The precarious perch keeps the
chicks safe as the adults hunt.

Both parents care for
the three-week-old chicks.

In order to fill
five hungry stomachs,

they have to fly
several miles a day

in search of carrion,
insects and bird eggs.

Common ravens have
excellent eyesight,

helpful for spotting prey
or carcasses from the air.

They both hunt and scavenge,

anything to keep
the young chicks fed.

The ravens aren't the only
ones looking for a meal.

Wild boars roam these woods,

and were no doubt hunted
by Erasmus in his day.

They're omnivores,
and use their snouts

to dig up tasty grubs.

A clever bird takes notice.

His loud caws alert his pals.

They gather for the feast.

The boars can be
intimidating,

but these insects are
too nutritious to pass up

on account of aggressive swine.

The ravens work together
to keep them at bay.

They're careful,
but refuse to be chased off.

Left alone in the nest,

the raven chicks
are getting ready to fledge.

Without parental supervision,
they're taking dangerous risks

as they stretch their wings.

On these high cliffs,
one wrong move could be fatal.

The first to take flight

is rewarded with a snack
from her returning dad.

Perhaps spurred
on by their sister,

the other siblings
gingerly emerge,

eager for freedom
and ready to soar.

As the young ravens take flight,

they get their first aerial view

of the rugged mountains
they'll call home.

It won't take them long
to master their domain.

Ravens are considered

one of the most intelligent
species of bird.

Their wisdom and wings
will serve them well

as they navigate the sheer
outcrops and jagged rocks.

For the earthbound
inhabitants of the Karst,

getting around is
a more challenging endeavor.

Specialized climbing gear
is often a requirement.

The chamois,
a relative of goats and sheep,

has just the hardware.

Its pliable
but sharp-edged hooves

allow it to find purchase
on seemingly impossible terrain.

It navigates the rocky outcrops
with balance and agility

and can leap 6 feet
straight up in a single bound.

In medieval times,

the chamois was hunted
for its meat,

and its horns were used to make

a musical instrument
called a gemshorn.

Hunters would stalk
it from above,

because it habitually
looked downhill for danger.

The chamois spend
months at a time

foraging in these mountains.

Only when the weather gets cold
and the food becomes scarce

will they leave for the
more protected valleys below.

In 1483, just as
the chamois would have been

heading down
the mountain for the winter,

Erasmus Leuger was heading up.

An outlaw after killing
a fellow nobleman in Vienna,

he was fleeing to the safety
of Predjama castle.

He wasn't a moment too soon.

Winter was settling in,

and travel in these parts
can be deadly in the cold.

Temperatures drop to
- 30? Fahrenheit

and deep snow makes
the terrain all but impassable.

When Erasmus looked up
at the imposing ramparts

of his family's castle,
he knew he'd be safe.

Unlike many other
European castles,

Predjama has never
been luxurious.

Its Spartan walls have been
built up over the centuries,

but it was always more
of a fortress than a palace.

One of its few indulgences
was a private outhouse

with a spectacular view
of the valley below.

But the castle's most
impressive feature

was its seamless connection
with the hidden caves behind it,

which extend deep
into the mountains.

Predjama would have looked

like little more
than a dungeon to Erasmus.

An uncomfortable hiding place
for a Habsburg aristocrat

used to the extravagances
of cosmopolitan Vienna.

But faced with
the death penalty,

Erasmus was in
no position to complain.

Winter was closing in.

With only his faith
and a few servants

for support and companionship,

he holed up behind
the castle walls like a rodent.

Erasmus wasn't the only one
seeking shelter here...

The dormouse also spends
winters in the castle,

though it's a quiet housemate.

It hibernates
through the coldest months,

slowing its metabolic rate

and lowering its body
temperature dramatically.

All in an effort to use
as little energy as possible.

Fat supplies
from the previous summer

can sustain it for
up to six months or more.

Behind the castle,

5 miles of twisting tunnels

and hidden chambers
provide sanctuary

for more bizarre creatures,

which thrive
in the moist interior.

The cave cricket is happiest
in absolute darkness.

Although it has big eyes,
they've been rendered useless

by generations
of living in the dark.

The cricket is completely blind.

It relies on
its long sensitive antennae

and sense of touch
to get around,

seeking out fungi and
other organic debris for food.

The crickets
scurry about on the rocks,

but many of the cave's
other occupants are aquatic,

lurking in the pools
and waterways

that meander
through the tunnels.

One strange beast
that haunts these waters

is the mythical olm,

a seldom-seen,
entirely aquatic salamander.

Nicknamed "the human fish"
because of its pale skin,

it has both gills
and functioning lungs,

can grow to almost
1.5 feet long,

and can live up to 100 years.

Olms feed on shrimp and
other tiny aquatic animals,

which they find using
a sensitive lining in their ears

that detect even the smallest
vibrations in the water.

Their keen sense of smell
and taste

also help them
navigate in the dark.

But olms don't need
to eat often.

When food is scarce,
they slow their metabolism,

and have been known to survive
up to 10 years on a single meal.

As the largest creature
in these caves,

the olm has only
one natural enemy...

...daylight.

Leaving the cave
would literally burn

its photosensitive skin.

Erasmus could
at least see sunlight,

but he too was confined
to the caves and the castle.

Fearing discovery,

he was forced to rely
on his servants for supplies.

Out here
in the winter wilderness,

there was plenty
of game for hunting.

But the servants weren't
the only ones looking for meat.

The lynx is the
largest cat in Europe,

and a versatile predator.

The alpine hair is
one of its favorite meals.

The lynx can accelerate
to over 40 miles per hour

for short bursts,
but today he's out-maneuvered,

perhaps distracted from
the bunny by meatier prey.

He could feed on
this doe for several days.

But she's not alone,

and he'd have a hard time
separating her from the herd.

Before he has time to reassess,

the lynx is distracted
once again

by something even more
attractive than food,

the scent of a female in heat.

Late winter is
mating season for the lynx.

They're normally loners,
but at this time of year,

males and females seek
each other out before the thaw.

The female will only mate
with a single male per season,

so he must convince her
he's worthy.

Eventually,
she deems him adequate,

and he quickly moves in
before she changes her mind.

The kittens will be born
in about ten weeks,

but by then, their father
will be long gone.

The snow will be too,

giving way to the flowers
and flourish of spring.

Here in the Karst,
spring also unleashes

powerful forces
that liquefy the landscape.

Mysterious upwellings
appear out of nowhere.

Water gushes where
previously there was none.

Dry walls of rock
suddenly bleed waterfalls,

and raging rivers emerge
from dry earth.

Within days, the floods
create a completely new habitat.

Not far behind come
the creatures who exploit it.

One of the first arrivals
is the white-throated dipper,

an energetic bird that is
more at home in the water

than in the air.

Undeterred by
the strong currents,

he wades into the river
in search of caddisfly larvae.

At this time of year,
the larvae aren't for him.

He's bringing them
back to his chicks,

tucked safely away
inside a nest in the rocks.

Both parents
help feed the young,

fattening them up
as quickly as possible.

It won't be long before
they'll have to leave the nest,

and face the unbridled force
of the river by themselves.

Meanwhile, the water levels
continue to rise,

filling the ravines
and saturating the land.

The rivers follow courses
carved into the limestone

over millions of years.

Naturally acidic rainwater
dissolves the porous rock,

leaving the Karst riddled
with caves and tunnels

that channel
the runoff downhill.

In spring when the snow melts,
the added volume

flushes the labyrinths
and floods the landscape.

Sometimes it carries with it
the denizens of the dark.

For centuries,
most people only saw olms

when they were
washed from the caves.

They thought
the bizarre salamanders

were actually baby dragons,

torn from their mothers
by the raging water.

And that
the angry dragons inside

were the ones
causing the floods.

Back on higher ground,

the dipper chicks
have left the nest.

The five youngsters
have set out to explore,

braving the rushing water
in search of a meal.

They bob as they move,

either as a means
of communication

or to throw off predators
eyeing them from above.

They're immediately comfortable
on the slippery rocks,

but still tentative
about going for a dip.

They spend
the first couple of days

figuring out what's edible
and what's not.

And they're not above
calling for help

when they get into trouble.

Fortunately, they're not yet
entirely unattended.

A few loud alarm calls
and help arrives.

For the next few weeks,
their parents will continue

to watch over them.

After that,
they'll be on their own,

and they'll need to be
completely at ease in the water.

Dippers wade into the current,
picking insects off the rocks.

But they also fully submerge in
search of shrimp and small fish,

using their wings to swim.

They're perfectly equipped
for the spring runoff

that washes through the Karst.

As spring unfurled around him,

Erasmus, the outlaw knight,

remained cooped up
in his cliff-side fortress.

But his food stockpiles
were running low,

partially eaten by
some unwelcome houseguests

who were stirring
after months of deep slumber.

The dormice were famished,

and the knight's food
was a perfect amuse-bouche.

Fortunately for Erasmus,

the mice are inclined
to eat and run.

There are fresher
offerings outside.

With their bushy tails,

dormice resemble
small squirrels,

and similarly head to
the forest in search of nuts.

Beech nuts, hazelnuts, acorns...

they'll gorge on
everything they can find.

After a winter of hibernation,

they need to replenish
their fat stores,

and these oily fruits
are just what they crave.

First, they'll regain
their strength,

then they'll reproduce.

Out of money and
unable to pay his servants

to keep him fed
and safe any longer,

Erasmus was forced
to leave the castle as well.

Still wanted
by the Habsburg court,

he decided to turn against them.

He offered himself up
as a mercenary

to the enemy Hungarians.

He was adding treason to murder,
but he had little choice.

The main battles between
the Habsburgs and the Hungarians

were for control of the
Mediterranean port of Trieste.

But Erasmus was given
a different objective.

The Hungarians tasked him

with wreaking havoc
in the countryside,

working alone to attack wealthy
Habsburg estates and villages.

To some he was
a Robin Hood figure,

provoking and stealing
from the rich.

But to others,
he was no more honorable

than the marauding brown bears
that occupy the Karst.

The bears are
dangerous opportunists,

they'll hunt,
scavenge and forage to survive.

And like Erasmus
and the Habsburgs,

they'll also attack
their own kind.

In spring,
female bears roam the Karst

accompanied by young cubs.

They're fiercely protective,

especially when faced
with a male

that would readily kill the cubs

to bring the female
back into estrus.

The male weighs his odds.

The young cubs are
oblivious to the danger,

but their mother
goes on the offensive,

instead of waiting
for an attack.

The male is not
up for the fight.

With the threat gone, the young
bears devote themselves

completely to play.

They're learning how
to get around in the Karst,

growing stronger and more
confident as they explore.

Their mother stays close,

teaching them what
being a bear is all about.

By the time they're two,
they'll be on their own.

But for now, they're safe under
their mother's watchful eye.

Below the mountains
at the edge of the forest,

a stunning transformation
is taking place.

The grassy valley is turning

into a massive
but temporary seasonal lake.

Where there was once dry earth,

there is now water and fish.

In Erasmus's time,

some credited
witches and sprites

for making them
magically appear.

Today we know better.

The fish arrive
through underground channels

in the porous Karst.

The lake, called Cerknica,

also attracts
all manner of birds.

Resident species,
like the grey heron,

touch down as soon as it fills.

Migrants come too.

Redshanks...

Wild ducks...

Lapwings...

...and wild geese

all use the lake
as a convenient rest stop.

And just like at Predjama,

animals find shelter
in its secret retreats.

Hidden in one of
the lakeshore caves,

several thousand grass frogs

have been waiting
out the winter.

They can't reproduce
until the water arrives.

To mate, the male climbs
onto the female's back

and hangs on for
the journey to the lake.

Here, they spawn
a new generation.

In two weeks,
the fertilized eggs hatch

into vigorous tadpoles.

The lake provides sustenance,
but has its threats as well.

The larva of the great diving
beetle seems innocuous...

...but its lethality
should not be underestimated.

It's equipped with powerful jaws
for gripping much larger prey.

The beetle follows
its initial assault

with the injection of
corrosive digestive juices

into the
still-struggling victim.

The poison paralyzes the tadpole

and dissolves it from within.

Then, the larva sucks out
the predigested mash

through a canal in its jaws.

Such gruesome death is
a way of life in the Karst.

A powerful reminder of
the high stakes of survival.

As Erasmus
continued his plunder,

he believed he was
one of the hunters.

But on one of his raids,

he was spotted
by Habsburg soldiers.

When he tried to escape,

they followed him
back to Predjama.

He barely made it to
the safety of the castle,

where his pursuers were helpless

against the vertical rock
and overhanging ramparts.

All they could do
was stare up into the heights,

longing for the talents
of the acrobatic wall creeper.

This flashy bird
is not much of a flyer,

but it uses its stubby wings
and sharp claws

to bounce and climb
on the smooth rock walls.

Lacking the wall creeper's
athleticism,

the Habsburg soldiers opted
for a more sedentary approach.

They laid siege to the castle,

determined to outlast the
outlaw and bring him to justice.

Trapped, Erasmus withdrew
into the castle once again,

alongside its more
permanent residents.

In his medieval world,

he would have recognized
these castle-mates

as harbingers of doom.

A colony of bats hibernates
quietly in the caves

during the cold Karst winter.

But in late spring
they're awake and hungry.

These are common bent-wing bats,

which thrive on moths and flies
that they capture on the wing.

But in the Middle Ages,

people here believed bats
pursued human prey,

turning them into
the infamous undead.

This region is where

the original vampire myths
come from.

The first reports
of such horrors

came from the town of Kringa,

only about 60 miles
to the south.

According to legend,
a dead farmer in this cemetery

left his grave each night
to terrorize the town.

The priest and villagers
tried to kill the vampire

with crosses and stakes.

But it wasn't until they
cut off the corpse's head

that the nightmare
finally came to an end.

Erasmus was no vampire,

but he was still
trapped in the castle

by the posse of Habsburgs.

While he was holed up,
other residents of the Karst

were enjoying
the bounty of summer.

The lake below the castle
is a favorite breeding ground

for the magnificent
great crested grebe.

These water birds have legs
placed far back on their bodies.

This makes them
excellent swimmers,

but rather unstable on land.

During mating season,

the birds engage
in an elaborate courtship.

The male poses,

and proudly shows off
his prowess as a diver.

The two synchronize movements...

...then, finally,
elevate together

into the triumphant
"penguin display" ballet.

On the shores of the lake,

a more sinister
seduction takes place.

Drosera, commonly
known as sundew plants,

are carnivorous,
the tentacles on their leaves

are covered with sweet,
sticky droplets

that are irresistible
to insects.

But when the insects alight,

they find themselves
caught in a trap.

Just like Erasmus,
trapped in his castle.

But unlike the insects,

Erasmus's fate
wasn't yet sealed.

He still had
a trick up his sleeve.

Sneaking through a secret tunnel

that snaked from the castle
through the cave system,

he headed off
to an unwatched valley

on the other side
of the mountain.

He could have escaped
completely this way,

but was confident he could
outlast the soldiers,

and chose to stay
in his family castle.

Here in the valley,
he could roam free...

...and pick fresh fruit
from the ripening trees.

Like Erasmus
emerging from his cave

to taste the sweet nectar
of freedom,

mayflies burst from
the lake every summer.

They spend most of their lives
as nymphs in the water,

but their final molt
gives them wings.

The adults rise up
into the sky en masse...

...with only one goal,
to reproduce.

In massive throngs,
the males fly across the lake.

Females join the
so-called wedding swarms,

and they mate in flight.

But their airborne freedom
is short lived.

Exhausted from the effort,

they fall back into the water
from whence they came.

With their dying breaths,

the females lay
their fertilized eggs

into the clear, still water.

Erasmus didn't know it,

but his last breath was
fast approaching as well.

He was still enjoying
his freedom,

out in the fruitful
Vipava valley.

Here in the sun,
just a few miles

from the castle, grapes and
cherries ripen weeks earlier

than in the shadow of Predjama.

Others descend on the valley
for the seasonal bounty as well.

Finished with
his early season nuts,

the dormouse is filling
up on sugar-rich fruit.

He's so focused on his meal,

he's oblivious to a dangerous
predator lurking nearby.

Finally satisfied,

the dormouse heads back towards
the safety of his burrow.

But the Ural owl,

one of the largest in Europe
with a wingspan of up to

4 and a half feet, has him in
her sites.

She swoops in on silent wings.

Up in the trees,

her owlet waits
impatiently for a meal.

It's survival of the fittest
out here in the Karst.

Death for the dormouse means
life for the owl's hungry chick.

He's only recently
left the nest,

still strengthening his wings
before taking to the air.

His mother offers him
the entire dormouse,

wanting him to get used
to eating whole prey.

He's not quite sold
on all the fur and bones.

Eventually he nibbles,

but mom will end up
eating most of this meal.

Over the next few days,

the owlet practices
his flapping.

He's building up

to the takeoff and
the freedom of flight.

Fresh fruit in hand,

Erasmus returned to the castle

through the secret
tunnel underneath.

He even brought cherries
for the soldiers,

to show them
their siege was a farce.

But the soldiers
were ready for his games.

When one of his servants
brought them the cherries,

they convinced him
to turn on his master.

It probably took little more
than some money changing hands.

The servant would send a signal

when Erasmus was on the toilet,

the only spot in the castle
that was vulnerable from below.

The soldiers had
brought along a catapult

for just such a mission.

They prepped for the attack,

then settled in
to wait for their cue.

They weren't
the only ones in the Karst

who favor an ambush.

Among the rocks and crevices,

a horned viper
sets its own trap,

flashing its red tail

to attract the attention
of an unsuspecting mouse.

But just in time,
the mouse smells a rat.

The viper changes tactics
and gives chase.

The mouse tries
to hide in the rocks.

But the snake patiently follows.

Timing is everything.

The snake has
a well-earned meal.

The calories will keep
him full for weeks.

For months, Lake Cerknica
has been a rich oasis

for all kinds of fish and fowl.

But in late summer,

when the meltwater
from above finally wanes,

the lake dries up and disappears

almost as fast
as it grew in the spring.

Some water evaporates
into the dry mountain air.

The rest seeps back into the
invisible warren of channels

that riddle the Karst.

Once again, the change offers
opportunity for some

and danger for others.

Some fish become trapped
by the receding waters,

easy pickings
for resourceful hunters.

Back at the castle,

the pursuers
were circling Erasmus as well.

The Habsburg soldiers,
eager to end the siege

before the onset
of another harsh winter,

finally got the signal

from the traitorous servant
behind the walls.

Knowing they'd only
have one shot,

the soldiers took careful aim...

...and released the projectile.

It was a perfect strike.

Seated in the outhouse,

Erasmus met his end
astride a throne

that was anything but royal.

Centuries later,

the story of the outlaw knight
has faded into local lore.

Some still revere him for
his loyalty to his friend

and his Robin Hood-like stand

against the evil
Habsburg Empire.

Others revile him
as a coldblooded killer

and a traitor to boot.

The details of Erasmus's
exploits have blurred with time,

but his spectacular castle

still casts
a long and powerful shadow.

Out here on the edge of nowhere,

where hollow mountains
hide mysterious beasts,

where water bleeds
from porous earth...

...and where powerful forces
spur legends and myths...

...the life-and-death struggles

of hunter and hunted
continue eternally...

...as the cave castle
stands watch.