E3: Javorova to Zázrivá: Day 129

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

My track among tall trees and a few fallen ones.

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 to the road crossing the pass. After the pass there was a long period of uphill. I fondly remembered my walk on the GR5 (E2) 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 were brought down as collateral damage when foresters felled larger trees and they were then pulled out of the way. Later 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.

Pleasanter path.

Dwarf yellow cinquefoil.

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 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.

My next mountais viewed from Zázrivá.

E3: Trstena to Javorova: Day 128

A wet day walking over 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.

Reservoir behind Orava dam.

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.

Muddy and rutted tracks.

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 cottage where you could stay if you made the right arrangements. It had a "Self Service Buffet" where I put 2 Euros into 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.

Misty view of a village below 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. 

Tall trees in the mist.

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 were a few interesting museums in the city 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.

The start of my blog on the Polish section of the E3 in the Carpathian Mountains is here.

The start of my blog on my walk on the E3 is here.

E3: Chochołów to Trstena: Day 127

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

A walk through 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 indicated by my GPS, 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. 

Looking down on Oravice.

Oravice had a waterpark that was under construction; a well populated open air swimming 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.

Bear prints.

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.

Approach to Trstena.

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.

Giant plant encrusted teapot at Gubałówka.

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 heading the other way. 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 a high ridge I might be following in later days.

Tourist fun around Zakopane.

The long and winding road.

Around 2 p.m. 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.

Wooden houses of Chochołów.

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 small, medium or large size 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 at a time when Poland no longer existed. Despite there once being a Polish-Lithuanian Empire, by 1795 Poland had dissappeared altogether, 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, literature and culture. Now it is a thriving, proud country. 

Villa Koliba, a house built by Stanisław Witkiewicz in Zakopane style.

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 historical 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.

Church of Our Lady of Czestochowa, the oldest wooden church in Zakopane.

After a morning visiting the Tatra Museum, Villa Koliba and the old church, I spent the afternoon resting in my room, which has a little kitchen area with sink and microwave. Although well 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 rained heavily which has made me glad of my little appartment, cosy 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...

Main pedestrian street in Zakopane.

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 when I passed in the early 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.

Houses today had steeply pitched roofs.

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 of 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. The man there recommended a few places to visit including an art gallery that would be closed tomorrow but which he thought would be open today. 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.

Closed Art Gallery in an attractive, old Zakopane style house.

After checking in to my accommodation and 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.

Local music in a restaurant.

E3: Stromowce Wyżne to Czarna Góra: Day 123

A walk through woodland and more open countryside of green fields with distant vistas of the High Tatras.

As I was waiting for sleep to envelop me last night I listened to the sounds around me. Cow bells dingling on nearby slopes, a bird chattering noisily nearby, a more restrained bird singing stanzas further away, cars crossing the dam above the campsite, people at the campsite talking quietly nearby.

Next morning I was up early, away by 7 a.m., walking on a road that ran beside a reservoir. On a hill before me, above a second dam there was a castle guarding the valley. Called Zamek Dunajec, it dated from the 14th century. I passed it well before opening time and the line of stalls in front of it, which might have offered a selection of goodies, were all closed. Then the climbing began.

Zamek Dunajec Castle.

There was a long ascent, its gradient varying. As I walked through mixed woodland I was wondering where the many fluffy catkins came from that I frequently saw scattered on the track. PlantNet identified them as from Halberd Willows. There were not many of these trees but they seem to scatter a large number of catkins. Despite the woods, I could at times see down to the large reservoir to my right and the many houses dotting the landscape. The highest point was called Źar, where there was a stubby observation tower. On mountain tops such as this one I have noticed a little box with a miniature pitched roof. Looking inside the broken door of the one on Źar, I found an inkpad and rubber stamp. This made sense as I had seen people, especially children, with books in which they collected the stamps of the mountains they had climbed.

Soon after there was another of the ridiculously steep descents. Fortunately the weather was dry, however my poles were still essential to stop me slipping on the earth "path". My descent was made more complicated by a large party of school children climbing up. Many politely said "Dzień dobry", ie "Good Day", to which I of course replied, many times. Reaching the bottom it was then a gradual climb up to the first village of my day, Dursztyn. At a small shop I bought a few items which I then proceeded to eat in the shade of the bus shelter. I rather over-indulged with a bar of chocolate, a sugared brioche and to be healthy, an apple washed down with "Vitamin Water".

Meadow walk heading towards the High Tatras.

Cows grazing.

To reach the next village I crossed open cow pasture, giving me a good view of the High Tatra Mountains. In the warm sunshine (I was sweating heavily) the snow on the mountains looked incongrous. Here, as elsewhere in Poland, I frequently came up on a small shrine or cross, with the Virgin Mary or Christ looking down, often in remote locations. I liked the ones that had a bench beside them so I could take a rest.

Wayside shrine.

After another wooded mountain with some steep climbs I reached my destination of Czarna Góra. At the apartment I had booked a dog announced my arrival, alerting the owner who let me in.

E3: Krościenko to Stromowce Wyżne: Day 122

A shorter day in the mountains but still tiring with all the climbing.

This morning I discovered that I lost my hat. It has happened before. I put it down in a café then forget to pick it up. So this morning I deviated to the places I visited yesterday. Being Sunday morning they were closed, although peering in, there was no evidence of my hat. So I gave up and started climbing, missing the shade that the wide brim of my hat gives me.

I was not alone. Many people were out today enjoying the sunshine. Families, couples, friends and runners, the later moving with effortless ease (which I envied), noisy children, sun tanned athletes and pot bellied old men. Yellow waymarks guided us on the first part of my uphill route. Today I am in the Pieniny National Park. Maybe as a result the trails are in good condition. Surfaces are even where possible, with steps on steeper sections, and sometimes a fence to hold onto or prevent you straying and stepping on wild flowers in the glades between the trees. Sweating profusely as I climbed, I was glad of a spring where the water had been directed along wooden channels conveniently ending next to the path. Washing my face with the cool spring water was glorious.

Steps to aid my climb into the mountains.

Switching to a more adventurous blue waymarked path, I reached Zamek Pieniny, the sparse ruins of a 13th century fortress. The base of very thick walls remained. Perched on steep slopes it would have been easy to defend but not very accessible for friends. Continuing on my way I reached Trzy Korony, the highest peak in the area at 982 metres. As I found yesterday for Sokolica, a payment was required if you wished to reach the top. Today I paid out and gained access to a steel walkway and stairs that led to a very small viewing platform at the top. The platform was crowded with people who did not seem to want to move. Although I managed to get on the platform and survey the extensive panorama around me, the number of people on the structure which was attached to a small pinnacle of rock, did make me nervous. Consequently I did not stay long.

Steps up to the viewing plaform on Trzy Korony.

View from the top of Trzy Korony looking towards the High Tatras.

A few kilometres later I left the blue trail for a red waymarked route that took me down to the river valley. Here there was an area with a restaurant, a historical display, stalls and a point where you could arrange a trip down the river on a flat bottomed boat. They were the same vessels that I saw yesterday, punted by men in embroidered waistcoat. From the displays, which were in Polish, I surmised that the taking of tourists on these traditional boats has happened for a century or more. If I was staying longer I would certainly take one of these river trips, but maybe on one of the kayaks that were offered.

There was then a tedious road walk to my campsite.

The campsite is of a reasonable standard. I made use of the shower and restaurant and generally had a lazy afternoon, hoping it would benefit my knee. I thought later I should have asked at the nearby boating location if they had any late afternoon trips down the river.

E3: Sczczawnica to Krościenko nad Dunajcem: Day 121

Today it was up a mountain, down to the Dunajec Gorge, up another mountain, down the mountain and then I decided to stop for the day.

For some reason, despite having checked the route last night, I completely missed that the E3 climbs a mountain called Szafranówka. For some reason I thought it followed the river and would be an easy, flat walk. Instead it was a steep climb, up a yellow waymarked trail, crossing under a chairlift. Seeing people (and their mountain bikes) drift upwards above me without any effort, just made me bitter. At the top the activities available included a long, curly slide which you went down on a sort of trolley, like a summer luge run. At the bottom there was a "ski" tow to pull you back up.

View of facilities at top of Szafranówka.

My route took me to an even higher summit where on a narrow ridge I reached the Slovakian border again, which I briefly followed. There was an equally steep descent to the River Dunajec now on a blue waymarked trail. At the river I could briefly walk in a relaxed fashion along a paved path and cycle lane. I crossed the river on a foot ferry. A man with an embroidered waistcoat, propelled the flat bottomed boat to the other side with a pole, as if it was a large punt. As the river was flowing at a good pace, the boatman had to first push the boat upstream with powerful strokes so as to end at the landing point on the other side. Being a sunny Saturday the ferry was full of day trippers.

Foot ferry across the River Dunajec.

The river lay in a gorge, and it was inevitable that there would be another steep climb on the other side. What I had not realised was how long the steep uphill section would be. The path was well constructed, zigzagging up the mountainside. Steps had been built and there was a metal handrail to assist the many people climbing up. The steel of the handrail had been polished to a shiny finish but the many tourists using it to pull themselves up. As the E3 did not go quite to the top of the mountain, which was called Sokolica, nor did I. Not only did it mean an extra five minutes climbing (or so a sign claimed), there was also a charge to go to the very summit.

On descending I missed a turn onto a green waymarked trail which caused me to re-evalute my day. I had planned to reach Sromowce Wyżne, but having started late (as I had breakfast at the hotel) and with the slow pace caused by steep paths, it seemed unlikely that I would reach my intended destination at any reasonable time and my knee would certainly be complaining. So I booked a room near Krościenko for the night.

After a steep descent there was a short walk by the river to this town. Flat bottomed boats similar to the ferry I had travelled in, were being poled down the river. The riffles on the water, and the occasional standing wave suggested the water was shallow, explaining the use of the punt like boats. I idly wondered how they got the boats back up the river, where tourist rides were offered on them. It would take a lot of effort to pole them upstream. Then I saw on the opposite bank the boats being loaded onto lorries, after being split longitudinally into four sections for easier handling.

At Krościenko, I peered into a church, which despite its quite modern look on the outside, dated from the 14th century. Then, having plenty of time, I lunched on pierogies, a type of dumpling found across Eastern Europe. This was unfortunate as I discovered that the room I booked was above a restaurant that serves only pierogies, albeit with a varied fillings.

Inside of church at Krościenko.

Deciding I needed something different I walked back into town. As cyclists and people on electric scooters sped up and down the pavement instead of the road, I kept well to the side. After passing a football match in progress I found a restaurant where I dined on trout. Afterwards I wandered back to the old church where a trumpet duo were playing a slow tune from the tower. Although not note perfect it made a sweet sound in the evening air.

E3: Rytro to Sczczawnica: Day 120

A sunny day in tree covered mountains with a lot of climbing and a complaining knee.

Leaving Rytro early I began the long climb, knowing today the total ascent would be in excess of 1400 metres. At first it was up quiet roads, where the firm surface made for good progress as I rose through green fields. Flowers such as pink, clammy campion lined the roadside. Then it was into the forest on rough tracks, going forever upward.

Heading for the mountains.

As I climbed higher, conifers increasingly dominated the forest, pushing out the brighter greens of beech and birch as I crossed the 900 metre contour. The highest summit I reached today was the top of Radziejowa at 1266 metres, however I went even higher, climbing up the many stairs to the top of the observation tower. A few people were about, parents taking their child out into the country, the tower was a destination for their rambles.

Radziejowa Obseration Tower.

Today, beyond the wooded mountains surrounding me, to the south west I could see the much higher, snow-streaked mountains of the High Tatra, while to the north I could see large urban areas at lower elevations. Around 1 pm I reached the Przehyba mountain hut where I bought a Coke and a slice of what might have been biscuit cake, a heavy offering containing chocolate and embedded pieces of biscuit. Probably highly calorific, but with all the walking uphill with a heavy rucksack I decided not to worry about getting fat (my watch suggests I am using around 3,500 calories a day). The hut, with its terrace looking out at the distant Tatras, was run by the PTTK, the Polish Society for Tourism and Sightseeing. As well as maintaining a network of huts they were also the originator of the waymarks and directional signs. A hiker who was also at the hut yesterday spotted me and said "hello". The hut was popular with both hikers and mountain bikers. Many parts of today's route were also bicycle trails, and in the winter, used for cross country skiing.

Hikers I met on the trail would say "hello", but in Polish. My phrase book says hello in Polish is Cześć (sounds like cheshch), which I did hear, but more often people said "Dobry", as far as I could tell, which means "good", it is easier to pronounce and I assume is short for "Good Day". After the morning's exertion my left knee was suffering, not fully extending with each step. Tracks with loose stones, from a few inches to several inches in size were the main problem, they forced my knee to bend sideways and then the rock might slip away further annoying my knee. My progress was slow as I carefully picked my way through the rocks, or walked on adjacent rough ground. However, I was not going to let it stop me and there were many sections of hard earth where I could move faster with confidence.

A rough downhill section of track with loose rock which my knee dislikes.

Later in the afternoon, I deviated from the red stripes marking the Beskid Trail and followed yellow waymarks down to Sczczawnica. The town is squashed into a valley with parts built on its steep sides. It is another place with Spa facilities dating from the 1930's with places like an "Inhalatorium", which offered saline inhalation. It is now a tourist town with hotels, restaurants and hiking opportunities. I liked some of the old, slightly-delapidated wooden buildings at the edge of town with lace curtains. I wondered how often they had to treat the brown wooden cladding to preserve it. Nearer the centre the old villas with fancy woodwork around their balconies had been renovated, painted and converted to guesthouses, shops and other facilities. Their red metal roofs were moulded around a complex array of dormer windows.

Older house at the edge of town.

Building in the centre housing shops.

After showering I rinsed some clothes, a task made more difficult by the lack of a plug in the washbasin, a frequent omission. Then I visited a restaurant. My chicken filet with mashed potatoes and salad was fine, yet everyone else's dinner looked better. Sadly I did not discover which items on the menu they ordered. Google Translate was essential to understand the Polish menu but it was difficult to know what the translation meant. As people wanted my table I paid and walked down the road to a stall selling gofrys (waffles) and had one with cream for dessert. Even then someone else did one better and had waffle with fruit and cream, I just do not have the words or actions to ask.

E3: Krynica-Zdrój to Rytro: Day 119

A dry day with sunny intervals walking over forested mountains.

Today the big climb was early on from the centre of Krynica-Zdrój at 587 metres to the top of a mountain called Jaworzyna Krynicka at 1114 metres. Apart from a dip into a valley filled with a modern hotel, spa and conference centre, it was a steady climb uphill through trees until I entered the sweeping, grass avenues of the downhill ski runs. Each side of the runs, snow making machines idly waited for next winter. At one point I thought I was near the top after a particularly steep gradient. Cable cars coming up at a steady speed from the valley below were levelling out. However, the cable cars were merely dropping into a dip before rising to the final summit. I still had a kilometre or so of uphill to overcome. Finally at the top of Jaworzyna Krynicka, among hiking groups who had reached the summit the easy way in a cable car, I searched for the café. It was closed. So I set off along the red waymarked trails, soon leaving the industrial ski paraphernalia, and almost all the people, behind.

Hikers who had arrived on the cable car taking pictures.

Now on higher ground the trail rose and fell across minor peaks. Occasional breaks in the trees where there were areas of grass or trees had been felled, allowed me to see ranges of wooded hills become greyer with distance. In one place I could see farmland at lower altitudes far to the north. Although mostly pleasant walking in mixed woodland with sunny patches, there were stony sections of track, where the scattered rocks caused my knee considerable discomfort and slowed my pace. Despite yesterday's rest day, the amount of fluid on my knee had not reduced.

Pleasant walking through trees, note the red waymark.

A mountain hut made a convenient place to stop for a lunch break. Although no sign on the outside welcomed you in, I opened a few doors and found the canteen area. A few hikers were sitting at tables. Although they served hot food, the effort needed to translate the menu, and the piece of cake sitting beside the serving hatch, made it much easier to point to the cake when the lady serving said something unintelligible to me. She also understood what I meant when I asked for Coca-Cola. The cake was served with squirty cream and blackcurrant compote. I enjoyed this while others waited for some kind of hot food. I took the opportunity of the lunch stop to put on my knee support and swallow an ibuprofen which may have helped in the afternoon. The trail continued for several more minor summits among the trees. During the day I passed two hiking groups as they rested, one of them obviously on a school outing. As with all the people I met today, there was very little English spoken.

Hiking group.

Finally, at a high meadow, I saw beneath me the curving River Poprad, with villages grouped around it, way down, hundreds of metres below me. I prepared myself for a rapid descent. Much of this took the form of a muddy, stoney path with water tricking down it. Both knees felt the pain of holding my weight as I cautiously moved downward, trekking poles ahead of me. Among gaps in the trees I could see the castle ruins above Rytro.  Another castle dating from the 13th century, the remaining tower was encased in scaffolding. Eventually I reached a road, steep but with a firmer grip. Then I was crossing the river and heading towards my lodging in Rytro. 

Path across a meadow.

My progress was halted by an ice cream stall which obviously needed attention. The lady serving added a mixture of flavoured ice cream to a cone and then weighed it to ensure I received the correct amount, adding a touch more or less to get it exact. Not a practice I had seen before. My accommodation was above a restaurant where I had a very purple, clear borscht soup with dumplings, followed by "robbers pancakes" with goulash and cabbage and carrot salads. After dinner, I tried to make some repairs. One end of my hip pocket had come away from my rucksack's hip belt. I sewed it back together in the dim light of my bedroom but am unsure how long the frayed material I was sewing onto will last.

E3: Krynica-Zdrój rest day: Day 118

A day doing tourist stuff in a tourist town.

Krynica-Zdrój is an old spa town which blossomed in the 1930's. This was when the funicular was built that lifted me up to the summit of a nearby mountain, helped by the weight of the carraige coming down. At the top there was an observation tower (an extra 10 złotys) which I climbed to see the view in all directions. Fortunately there was no mist today, just cloud with the sun occasionally breaking through. From the top I could see the urban area spread along the base of the valley with mixed woodland on the surrounding mountains.

Funicular ride up a mountain, a change for walking up.

Beside the observation tower was a garden of "Music and Illumination". The Illumination would have to wait until it was dark, as for music there were a series of musical instruments made of plants, and plant covered images of people.

People made of plants.

I walked down from the mountain to see an area of educational, hands on science exhibits, such as an Archimedean screw. Unfortunately all the instructions were in Polish making it difficult to know what other pieces of apparatus was meant to do. In the centre of Krynica-Zdrój a long promenade beside a small river is the central feature. Each side are stalls selling tourist items: fridge magnets, mugs with town's name on, furry toys, gofry's (ie waffles), ice cream etc.. There are old looking villas, some made of wood, serving as restaurants and guesthouses. Areas of grass were laid out with paths and lines of trees with many benches for people to rest, sunbathe or just pass the time relaxing. The town's visitors seem to be either groups of school children or middle aged people. The latter either carried walking sticks to stop them falling over, or because they were hiking in the area.

Local architecture.

The promenade.

This morning I woke up really stiff after yesterday's long walk and the lack of flexibility has continued through the day. Hoping it will improve by tomorrow as that is a 32 kilometre day with quite a bit of uphill. In the evening I went to a show which, according to Google Translate, advertised Highland folk music, sausage, and repartie, very much an event for (Polish) tourists. It was of course the Polish Highlands being refered to. As it was all in Polish I copied what everyone else was doing. This involved collecting a large sausage and cooking it on a long fork in front of an open fire. My neighbour indicated how the fork could be fixed in place. Not sure how you were meant to know it was cooked but I left it as long as my neighbour did, it dripped oil and was hot when I ate it with a mild mustard, tomato sauce and the bread provided. The band, two trumpets, an accordian and a double bass, sang folk songs. For some songs the audience evidently knew the words and sang for the band, for others they knew the actions. There was dancing which almost everyone took part, but I had no-one to dance with. I very much missed my wife.

Cooking my sausage at the (Polish) Highland Gathering.

The band.

E3: Zdynia to Krynica-Zdrój: Day 117

An amazing day in which I walked over 35 kilometres with 1500 metres of ascent, for which I awarded myself a rest day.

The E3 on a good forest track through conifers.

The tourist spa town of Krynica-Zdrój was the next major destination after Zdynia. However, it was over 35 kilometres away with five mountains in the way. Having struggled to walk 25 kilometres recently I was not sure I could do it. As there were plenty of hotels in Krynica-Zdrój I decided to aim for it but be prepared to wild camp if I became too tired, or my knee became too swollen and debilitated to reach it. Despite waking with a stiff left knee I surprised myself in achieving the distance. A clear target, a dry day and the potential reward of cake, coffee and beer probably helped, whereas recently the daily destination has been yet more forest and even more mountains to climb up and down. Less attractive.

I started promptly, enjoying the use of the toilet at my cabin in Zdynia after three nights of wild camping. At 7 am I was on my way, up the road, rejoining the E3, this time heading west towards its final destination on the Atlantic. With my morning's energy I was over the first two of the mountains ahead of the timings indicated on the Polish signs. As the day progressed I was meeting the timings, and finally falling a little behind them. However, observing the time needed to reach Krynica slowly fall at successive posts was a major source of motivation. Unlike some of the earlier signs in Slovakia which were optimistic, those on the fingerposts in Poland seemed reasonable. 

On the first mountain top I found another First World War cemetery. It was designed by the architect who was also responsible for the cemetery I saw yesterday. This held the Russian, Austrian and Hungarian dead from another battle that took place here. Rather than use heroic themes that glorified death for one's country, the architect used features of the local folk constructions, such as the wayside shrines.

Architect designed First World War cemetery.

Local shrine with similar curved arch over the cross.

As well as five mountains I passed near or through five villages. These included a few old houses built of logs, with the gaps between the trunks filled in to make the house wind and water tight. Lace curtains hung in the windows. The final village had a shop where I bought an ice cream and coke. Unfortunately my złotys were deep in my rucksack, however the lady serving allowed me to pay by card, after a bit of effort getting the card machine going.

My route went over ridges and across valleys. The villages lay at the bottom of the valleys surrounded by green fields for grazing cattle or making hay. Yellow dandlelions covered the grass and I also saw blue bugleweed. These fields rose up the valley sides reaching the trees which grew on the higher ground. Today there were more conifers than on previous days, pine and fir trees. Where wood had recently been cut down the fresh scent of pine filled the air.

Crossing one of the valleys.

I met two Polish backpackers today, unfortunately they did not speak English, so we just "fist bumped" to express solidarity among hikers, that were were part of the same community. They were possibly following the Beskid Trail, the Carpathian Mountain Trail that the E3 follows in this part of Poland, marked by red stripes.

My final mountain was Huzary (864 metres). Although the climb was not too steep the summit seemed to take a long time to arrive. Then it was downhill to Krynica where I stopped at the first coffee shop for a latte and cake (actually a sort of brioche with bits of plum on top). This allowed me the time to put my poles away, switch my phone on and generally get ready for finding a hotel. I chose one near the coffee shop, picking one of the better rooms for a very reasonable price. Dinner was in a nearby restaurant with a large beer. Now stiff from my day's walk, I made my way back to the hotel. On the way I saw many people collecting around the fountains in the main pedestrian area. At just after 8 p.m., the water spurted up and down to music, illuminated by coloured lights.