Fleeing Lithuania (Klaipeda on the Baltic Coast, longish
story but stay away from places that sound like a sexually transmitted disease),
avoiding the major roads and motorways, the landscape gradually changes from
large, flat ploughed farmland and forests, to gently undulating terrain which
is populated by lines of blossoming shrubs and budding fruit trees: apple,
pear, cherry, even some vines. The temperature is gradually increasing,
from 6 or 7C to around 17C. The trees are different too. Not different
varieties necessarily, but something else. I stop at Marijampole (Lithuania), Bialystok and Sandomierz (Poland), pushing progressively South.
I'm heading for Bukowina Tatryzanska, in the mountains, not
far from Zakopane, Southern Poland, almost on the Slovak border. I’m looking
for mountains, but see nothing and I’m already thinking in my mind that the
High Tatras are probably higher than the Low Tatras, but actually, they are not
that high, when, ascending a ridge, the hairs on my arms suddenly stand on end. Stretching in front of me across the horizon are three banks of hills, each
beyond the other, getting progressively higher and beyond these, towering
snow-capped peaks, almost impossible at first to distinguish from the white
clouds that surround them. Bloody Hell! These are real mountains and that’s
where I’m heading! Fantastic!
Bukowina is a small skiing village, perched high on the
slopes, amidst silent, suspended ski lifts. It is between Winter and Summer seasons here
and the place has the feel of an out of season seaside resort, a bit forlorn
and at a loss with what to do with itself. An Israel couple in the ski-lodge
where I’m staying recommend a walk around Lake Morskie Oko, around 8km in
total, so that’s where I head to (although the lake is actually an 8km walk
from the nearest car park). I walk for about 2 hours (I have no watch or phone),
through tall, angular pine trees, passing the snow line to the lake itself,
which is still frozen. It is a classic cwm or tarn, high up, gouged out of the
bowl of rock which surrounds it by the base of a long melted glacier. It is
hard going walking around the lake, slipping on the snow, which alternates
between slippery slush in the sunshine to drifts which are knee high in places
on the North facing side. Occasionally there are large sink holes, where the
snow and ice have melted, exposing large circular holes which reveal the
underlying rocks and between them, small streams running below the blue ice to
the lake. In the evening, tired but relaxed, I eat fantastically cheap goulash
and boiled sausage (surprisingly good) and drink beer, listening on the
restaurant radio to Polish folk songs with a bit of a dance twist. I’m
definitely a convert!
After 4 nights, I travel around the mountains to the Slovak
side and another small skiing village called Novy Smokovec. I walk in the hills
most days, the weather being warm and sunny (mostly, although the temperature
did plummet from 21C one day to 0C and snow the next), taking the funicular to Hrebienok and selecting a walk from there.
The highlight was a walk/scramble and finally a climb to the top of Slavkovsky
Stit (2452m above sea level, well, almost the very top, I was a bit worried
about walking on the snow without proper boots, it’s a long way down!) and a
trip to Demanovsky Doliny and the Liberty Caves near Jasna. The caves are
impressive, stretching for a total of just over 5 miles, with 1.1 miles open to
the public. Here in the caves, they do a guided tour in Slovak, which I’m sure
is very informative, but of course incomprehensible, so I have to make up my
own stories. Here is the stalagmite which was once conjoined twins, who when
separated became the Moon and the Sun. There is a Holy Bishop, who although he
lived to a very old age, his head and face remained that of a baby. Over there
is the cascade of calcium that inspired the architect of the leaning tower of
Pisa. There are rushing underground rivers and caverns as high as a cathedral, still
pools of aquamarine blue, deposits red with rust, blue, mint green, glistening
with moisture in this slippery subterranean world. After a total of 9 nights in
the mountains, I’m replenished and ready for another city.
And the trees? I realise they all have leaves.
My temperatures have also plummeted from 38 to 1 this morning, I should of stayed away longer!! All looks amazing and I am really looking forward to meeting up soon to enjoy stories with beer :) x
ReplyDeleteYep, stories with beer! Always good! :-) x
DeleteYour Gazellian roots seem to be coming in handy mr M
ReplyDeleteDum dat dooday, mr T! Yeah! Fuck it! :-)
ReplyDeletesummits loosenin up Spikey !
ReplyDelete