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 am, 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.
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".
To reach the next village I crossed open cow pasture, giving me a good view of the High Tartra 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.
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.
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