E3: Javorova to Zázrivá: Day 129

A tiring day, up and down mountains to the village of Zázrivá.

Having decamped I began my way down to the Prislop Pass. Fallen trees made the first part difficult and then the track downhill became worse as it was churned up by heavy forestry vehicles. On reaching an area of grassland things improved. There were chairs and a table with an information board referencing the E3, then a good stretch of meadow to walk across, first downhill then uphill. Eventually, another downhill track took me to Prislop Pass.

I was two hours too early for the café so I began the next section of trail by struggling over piles of gravel and rock being used for repairs of the road crossing the pass. After the pass there was a long period of uphill. I fondly remembered my walk on the GR5 in the French Alps, where you walked up to a pass and then down the other side. Whereas here, the E3 follows the high points of ridges, in consequence you walk down to a pass, and then head uphill as you leave it.

The climbing continued for much of the day's walk, reaching successively higher peaks. Initially it was on forest tracks, often deeply rutted and obstructed by fallen trees. I wondered if they had fallen naturally, but I often could not connect the tree with any nearby broken stump. Possibly they came down as collateral damage when foresters felled larger trees and they were then pulled out of the way. Then there was a change, the route switched to a pleasant path that wound around younger fir trees with blueberry bushes each side. There was areas of grassland today where I spotted the dwarf yellow cinquefoil, its bright colours enhancing the landscape.

The highest point was Mincŏl at 1394 metres (the second mountain I have crossed with this name). Just before the summit, half hidden by mist, there were three ski lifts and a couple of towers with multiple aerials. At the summit sign post a couple of day walkers were having a sandwich. I carried on but they later overtook me, moving much quicker and more confidently than myself on the slippery downward track.

Zázrivá, the village where I had booked accommodation, seemed to take a long time to arrive, with an extra hill in the way that I was not expecting. Timings on signs were optimistic, at least for myself. However all things come in the end. On entering the settlement I spotted an ice cream stall where I, of course, stopped for a cone.

Having booked into my appartment, completed my chores, rewarded myself by phoning my wife, I then went to investigate the restaurant. Sadly they were not serving food tonight (Sunday) and the waiter indicated you needed a car to reach the next place open. (I had to use Google Translate as no English appeared to be spoken in this village). I settled for a beer and peanuts while watching the house martins swoop around the square. I will eat my emergency rations tonight and buy more tomorrow morning when the shops are open.

The mountains around me looked very high, it looks like it could be a tough day tomorrow especially as rain is forecast. 

E3: Trstena to Javorova: Day 128

A wet day walking over a mountains and crossing a dam.

Leaving my hotel my rucksack felt heavy as I will be wild camping tonight and so I am carrying extra food and water. After an hour or so I get used to the weight, at least to a degree. Despite the weight I paused in the main square in front of my hotel to read a few of the information boards and look in at the Franciscan Church. I learnt that Trstena has a long history as an important town in the Orava region but did not stop to visit any more of the listed sites.

The first part of my day was a climb up to the summit of Uhlisko in intermittent rain and then a descent down the other side to the Orava hydroelectric dam. All through trees, tall conifers, except for an area of long grass on the way down. From the grassland I could see across the flooded valleys of a huge reservoir. Under the lowering clouds the water's surface looked like dusty mercury. The final stretch to the dam was through trees, overgrown and wet, it was little used by humans.

The dam itself could do with a café, I was not the only one walking across it, and with the poor weather, viewing the water from the inside of a café would have been pleasant. An information board refered to villages that had been flooded when the dam was built in the 1950's.

After the dam it was a matter of climbing up and along the next ridge, a long ridge of fir trees that I would follow for many kilometres. Starting this climb was made difficult as the point where the path left the road, by a faded sign, was overgrown with tree saplings. Much pushing and crashing through branches was needed until I reached a clearer if narrow path. Then the route crossed a large field of crops. I kept to lines made by tractor tyres to avoid doing too much damage. After that the E3 joined larger tracks through forestry for the remainder of the day. Some of these were heavily rutted by the passage of many large forestry vehicles, dragging logs. There were large pools of water and areas of mud. The rain made even some of the better tracks slippery, especially as mud accumulated on my boots. However there were often little paths making diversions around the worst sections. Tracks not recently used by vehicles faced the problem of fallen trees, again often requiring extensive diversions.

While forestry activity generally left a mess of ruts, mud and broken branches, they did consider hikers. Trees on which footpath waymarks had been painted were cut off above the red and white painted stripes, leaving unusually tall stumps.

There were several summits on the ridge to climb over. The Stations of the Cross led up to one of the earlier high points. At the 14th station there was a covered shelter where I had a snack. I passed a number of simple shelters, a roof over a table and benches, very handy for hikers like myself. There were also notice boards which read like a prayer from the woods, pointing out all the useful things the forest provides and asking you to protect it.

Magurka summit had a large transmiter tower. A little after was a shelter where you could stay if you made the right arrangements. It had a "Self Service Buffet" where I put 2 Euros in the honesty box for a soft drink. The highest summit was Budin at 1221 metres. There were some views when the clouds cleared of villages in the valleys below, other times mist embraced me.

My aim was to camp a few kilometres short of the Prislop Pass, maybe I am a little further away but seeing a flat spot among the trees a little before the Javorova summit I decided to pitch my tent. Soon after the rain began again with peals of thunder, so I count myself fortunate. 

E3: Poland and the Carpathian Mountains: Some comments

Lower Poland proved an excellent area to walk across with interesting spa towns and good trails across forested mountains.

Starting with the towns, I thought Krynica-Zdrój was a beautifully set out old spa town, catering for the needs of tourists like myself. Sczczawnica was also attractive. The foot ferry on the route out was a chance to go a short way on a traditional flat bottomed boat poled across the river by a man with an embroidered waistcoat and a black felt hat. Zakopane and the area around was dominated by tourism.  There are a few interesting museums and lots of stalls selling soft toys, fridge magnets and the like. The final village, Chochołów was impressive for the number of traditional wooden houses, of the type built with tree trunks. In between these towns there were villages with accommodation so I had no need to wild camp, although I did stay one night at an official campsite.

The E3 crosses many mountains in Poland, all covered with trees, mainly conifers. There are steep climbs and descents. For two of the summits you have to pay to reach the absolute top. On two days I was able to lunch at mountain huts, they also offered accommodation which would have to be booked by phone or email.

While the E3 is not specifically marked, there are lots of waymarks of different colours, supplemented with signs giving timings. The E3 Poland page on the European Hiking Federation website is misleading implying the E3 follows the Carpathian Trail which it equates with the Beskid Trail, marked with red waymarks. While the E3 does follow part of the Beskid Trail it leaves it before Sczczawnica and follows trails with a variety of waymark colours to reach Chochołów. 

E3: Chochołów to Trstena: Day 127

A return to Slovakia with a climb over mountains with grassland and fir trees.

Chochołów is close to the border so I was soon leaving Poland and striding into the first Slovak village, Suchá Hora. According to Wikipedia it is a village that has repeatedly changed which country it is part of. 

Rather than take a direct route to Trstena, my destination for today, the E3 employs a curved route southward to the village of Oravice, then curves north to Trstena, taking in a few mountains. First it followed the border posts south. Tracks came and went but I kept heading in the general direction, initially through grassland rich in blue forget-me-nots and yellow buttercups and dandelions, plus a few purple orchids. Fallen trees frequently obstructed me today, necessitating diversions around them. At one of the first, a man was standing with a chainsaw ready. Despite me indicating I was English and had no Slovak, he gave me a long explanation about something. I smiled and nodded then continued on my way. Leaving the border posts the trail continued to climb through conifers. Apart from a single direction sign at Suchá Hora I saw no waymarks and wondered if my gpx track for the E3, taken from Waymarkedtrails.org, was correct for this stretch. After reaching a high point the track dropped steeply. Shortly before the village of Oravice I saw a faded yellow waymark before a particularly difficult section of fallen trees. 

Oravice had a waterpark that was under construction; a well populated open air pool surrounded by sun loungers with people spread across them in their bathing costumes; shut up stalls, stationary ski lifts, and a buffet open and selling food and drink. I ordered a langos with cheese and tomato ketchup. I first tried langos, a sort of fried, savoury dough, in Hungary. While cheese is a common and welcome accompaniment the ketchup that the waitress suggested was something new. Having tried it I would avoid adding it to langos in the future.

I knew from my research last night that after Oravice there would be a big climb up to the summit of Skorušina at 1314 metres. Having this fore-knowledge the uphill section was not too depressing. At the summit there was an observation tower so you could look over the surrounding trees. The ladder up was steep and I felt I had climbed enough. 

There was then a long, slow descent following green waymarks. In the dusty track there were prints made by people's boots, bikes, vehicles, deer and a bear. From the size of the feet it was a small bear. I had been on the lookout for bear prints throughout my time in Slovakia but these were the first I had seen. 

Once out of the trees I could see Trstena ahead of me and beyond a large reservoir which I will visit tomorrow. However it seemed to take a long time to reach it and my left knee was complaining after all the descent. Finally reaching my hotel in the centre of Trstena I was worried to see a notice on the door leading to the reception with red letters, was it closed? Using Google Translate to see what it meant I discovered that they were looking for a new receptionist, as a permenant employee. Fortunately the old receptionist was still there and checked me in. I had arrived in the town centre too late for the cake shop, but I enjoyed a evening meal at the restaurant attached to the hotel, sitting outside with the locals who were chatting over a Friday night drink. I probably enjoyed it too much as I ordered a second beer. Usually a mistake which I had avoided on this trip up to now.

E3: Zakopane to Chochołów: Day 126

A short day ending at Chochołów, a village with many old wooden houses. 

I returned to the croissant café again this morning and enjoyed a blueberry, raspberry and mascapone croissant. The franchise, Lviv Croissants, is a Ukrainian company I discovered. Of course, the clue was in the name.

Catching the funicular up the side of Gubałówka, the mountain to the north of Zakopane, returned me to where I left the E3 trail previously and saved a lot of climbing. I did not have far to go today so I had another coffee while admiring the view, which included city spread out beneath me, and beside me, a giant, plant encrusted teapot. 

After a kilometre or so I left the stalls and tourists behind and continued on quiet roads. Although not all was quiet, half a dozen quad bikes passed me going one way, then returned a little while later. One of the many activities on offer around Zakopane. Sadly, beside the road I saw two monuments to people who had been shot by the Gestapo in 1943. Eventually the road turned into a farm track and climbed a few hills. A tractor was out cutting hay in the fine weather. Behind me the view of the snow streaked High Tatra peaks was slowly receding, ahead of me I could see the high ridge I would later be following in later days.

Around 2 pm I descended into Chochołów, and as advertised there were lots of wooden buildings, challet bungalow style, with their gable ends pointing to the road. Made of logs, to keep out the wind and water the gaps between logs are sealed with what looks like rope, but is a product made of wood I have read. Houses are roofed with wooden shingles and strung out along the busy road. A few people were washing the walls of their houses, maybe to brighten them up, removing the grime and dust kicked up by passing vehicles. The church was the only anomaly, being stone built in a gothic style. I paused for a blueberry ice cream before walking to my accommodation. 

Today is the last day of my walk through Poland on this trip, so I had a Slivowicz to celebrate after my meal in the local restaurant. 

Rest day in Zakopane: Day 125

A day sightseeing and resting in Zakopane. 

I woke up stiff. My legs struggling with the movements needed to walk me to the toilet. With exercises it wore off although straighening my leg was a movement it objected to. It led me to arrange a relatively short day tomorrow.

For breakfast I fancied a croissant and coffee, and it seemed there was just the place down the road. However they had turned the croissant into a huge range of sandwiches while also introducing it to the digital age. I had to order at one of those screens you now see in hamburger joints. There were numerous choices, I chose a ham and cheese croissant but then had to specify what kind of sauce I wanted, whether I wanted gherkins etc. and that was before specifying what type of milk I wanted in my latte. The filled croissant was messy to eat although it did give me a healthy dose of protein and lettuce for breakfast.

A little later I visited a couple of museums on the local area. Originally, people from the area were called Highlanders, and before the arrival of tourism in the 19th century scraped a living from potatoes, sheep and hunting. Their main resource was the forest, so they built wooden houses raised off the ground on stones with steeply pitched roofs "tiled" with wooden shingles. Intricate woodwork characterised the furniture and decorated parts of the house, and they made wooden instruments: simple violins, basses and pipes.

Visiting tourists brought increasing wealth. Architects such as Stanisław Witkiewicz admired the Highlanders' wooden houses which inspired the Zakopane style towards the end of the 19th century. Larger, modern, wooden buildings were constructed with the traditional rooflines and ornamentation of the Highland houses but with greater size and exuberance. To an extent it seemed an affirmation of a Polish identity. Despite there once being a Polish-Lithuanian empire, by 1795 Poland had dissappeared, swallowed by Austria, Russia and Prussia. Not until after the First World War did it re-emerge, having maintained a separate existence through its language and culture. Now it is a thriving, proud country. 

Today Zakopane exists only as a tourist town, I found it thronged with visitors despite it apparently being the low season. Lines of stalls met me from the funicular yesterday selling local cheeses and jams, toys for children, ice cream, waffles, riffs on traditional clothes and anything else that might encourage a passing visitor to buy. On the main street, shops mingle with restaurants and horse drawn carriages ply for trade driven by men dressed as the "Highlanders" that have long since gone. I frequently became entangled with long lines of school children on educational visits to the histortical sites.

I visited an old wooden church having often passed signs for such buildings, several kilometres off my route. They are part of the area's heritage. Beside the church was a cemetery. Although many gravestones were of stone, there were also wooden markers in traditional styles such as crosses or crucifixes with a little "roof" on them.

I spent the afternoon in my room, which has a little kitchen area with sink and microwave. Although we'll designed it has a large number of lights, the switches for which are difficult to find, not being located in any simple relationship to the bulbs they operate. It has rained heavily which has made me glad of my little appartment, cossy inside rather than out in the wet.

Dinner was at a restaurant where a Highland band was playing. Unfortunately the portions were so large I was unable to finish. The meal also lacked vegetables...

E3: Czarna Góra to Zakopane: Day 124

Today I entered a much more urbanised tourist zone.

Much of today was on roads, initially with a moderate amount of traffic. The village where I stayed merged into Bukowina Tatrazańska. A long stretch of buildings many of which were "Willas" (Villas) offering "noclegi" (accommodation) or "pokoje" (rooms). There were also places advertising pizza and "Łody" (ice cream), shut at this time of the morning. As I climbed higher up the road there were shops offering ski equipment and chair lifts for skiers, abandoned at this time of year. The chair lifts were scattered rather than being part of a resort and the pistes did not look exciting.

In the areas I have been walking through until today, the villages and old spa towns tended to be in valleys. On the ridges there were trees. In contrast, today houses had spread along the ridges and wooded areas were much reduced. New houses were being built. All the houses, new and old, had steeply pitched roofs, some excessively so with up to four floors within the pointy roofline. Cross gabled roofs, with multiple gable ends forming a cross, or more complicated patterns were frequent, as were steep gables on dormer windows, flared bottoms to roofs, and extra bits of roof. Swiss Chalet style taken to its extreme.

After a short section of woods and meadow I was dropped into a pass where, after an Ice cream, I crossed below a railway and busy road, over a river and up a hill. Turning off a road I climbed steeply by a dormant ski lift to an equally dormant glamping resort. 

High on the ridge I followed a road for many kilometres. A large chunk of rock with Pope John Paul II, the Polish born pope, projecting out of it commemorated his visit to the parish. After that I was expecting facilities crowding around the top of a funicular, but initially all was quiet, except for one or two people noisily mowing their grass or a builder banging. I began to fear that the funicular was not working or that I had missed it. Then I saw a series of car parks, their attendants sitting waiting for cars, one waving their yellow gilet at any stray vehicle. Suddenly, I hit a crowd. Like a wall, at one moment there was no-one then crowds of people gathered around stalls selling fluffy toys, ice creams, fridge magnets and similar. The stalls expanded down the hill a little, and among the pizzerias I found a café selling coffee and cheesecake. A grumpy ticket machine then threw my paper funicular ticket onto the floor, with its essential QR code.

All the good places had been taken in the funicular carraige, so I stood with my heavy rucksack, the oldest person there, for the short journey down into town. Being too early to check in at my accommodation I visited the tourist information hut. He recommended a few things including an art gallery that would be closed tomorrow. After dropping my bag off I walked to the place, an old villa, but it was closed. The only day it was now open was Monday, and today was Tuesday. However there was a nice "cukiernia" nearby, where I consoled myself with coffee and, almost had cake. Instead a small open sandwich with ham, tomato and rocket beckoned me, claiming it was better for me, so I ate that instead.

After chores, a few hours later I went into the main street of the town. After eating I searched for music. I found it at a restaurant where three violinists and a cello player, all male, were playing folk songs and sometimes singing in loud voices.