Breaking in the new hiking boots - Veľká Javorina - July 2017
Saturday, 29. July 2017 --
Departing this morning by train for Nové Mesto nad Váhom, eventually to the village of Lubina in the Biele Karpaty (White Carpathian Mountains), for a weekend of hiking and felting. I'm not sure about the felting bit, what exactly it entails, but that's Zuza's thing. However, I could do with some hiking in the hills, and give my new hiking boots a good breaking in.
Our train passes through Vinohrady, Pezinok... Trnava... Leopoldov... Piešťany. Someone on the train is snacking on peppers and the aroma is wonderful! I should've brought some from Zuza's garden. ...And finally we arrive in Nové Mesto nad Váhom. And then we switch to a local bus which takes us to Lubina, about 25 minutes away. We're staying in a very primitive house, like those in the old Slovak films which take place in the village. It sort of feels like a hippie commune here with everyone just popping in, whoever they are, Zuza and her felting friends.
There's a small kitten here, not more than 10 weeks old, and she seems quite sociable. I try to track her down and play with her, since I'm not ready to plunge into social hour with a bunch of people I don't know. I'm not like Zuza. Instead, I try to focus on getting settled in upstairs where the floorboards creak. I waddled carefully down the wood ladder which serves as the stairs.
Out in the courtyard, Zuza and her companions begin their felting projects. I spend the time sitting and staring at the landscape, thinking and sketching. There are a lot of people here I don't know. Some are shy in speaking English as I am in Slovak. I realize I'm not as sociable as Zuza is. I prefer to connect with people a few at a time and not in large groups, especially when there's a language barrier. Being a teacher, I have to be people-oriented, and I don't have a problem with this. But in my social life and during my off-hours, things are different. I can't wait to get out and hike. For now, I bide time and sit and sketch.
It is definitely peaceful here, and it's a great inspiration to sit and relax. This old house with a courtyard lends a lot to my creativity.
Around 3 pm, we finally headed out on a hike that took us to the end of the road and out to an open meadow on a hillside. From there, we were treated to a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains and villages. We hiked across the meadow to the woods, where we picked up a trail that lead down to an asphalt road, to a pub. This was the end of the world.
Pub Na Konci Sveta (Pub at the End of the World)
A water fight had broken out between two factions of teenagers in front of the pub. There's water flying everywhere, but Zuza and I, the guests, are spared. The teenagers might be family of the pub owners. The pub owner and his family live in a house directly across the road from the pub.
Sketch of the pub owner's house
A goat and a cow are grazing in front. I asked the pub owner the goat's name. He had to ask his wife: "Hey, honey, what's the goat's name?" "Kiki," came the reply. We spent at least two and a half hours at Na Konci Sveta sitting on the porch, enjoying the late afternoon sun, and watching the end of the world go by. I nursed three beers while Zuza knitted.
Around seven, we paid the tab, said our goodbyes to the kindly pub owner and his wife, and slowly hiked back over the hill to the house. We stopped for a few photos, and at one point we came across a dead sheep lying in the meadow. Poor thing. Back at "the lodge", I went into the bathroom and rinsed, using Zuza's travel shower soap. It wasn't really a shower in the true sense; more like a trickle. The water pressure was weak, but at least the water was pretty hot.
Outside in the courtyard, I sat in long sleeves and jeans as the only other guys on this venture (Vlado and Ivan) prepare the barbecue for dinner. I'm not that hungry. So we sat, talking, eating, drinking, about cats and culture, and the universe at large at this end of the world.
Sunday, 30. July 2017--
We slept surprisingly well. We'd left the window open, but there were no mosquitoes. At one pint during the night, I got chilly and closed the window. The air was incredibly fresh. We awoke refreshed and ready to tackle Veľká Javorina.
Holubyho Chata at Veľká Javorina
If you like an "oompah-loompah" brass band farting out a good polka two-beat (playing what's known as dechovka in these parts), then the Holubyho Chata at Veľká Javorina is for you. This mountain of 970 meters above sea level straddles the Czech and Slovak border, and this is where Zuza and I hiked to today. It was a tough hike up, wending up gravel trails into the woods, cautiously sidestepping roots, rocks, and slippery slopes. But at the top things were different. There were lots of people at Holubyho Chata, celebrating the local cultures of small regional communities on both sides of the border. There was a group of folk dancers from Skalica (in Slovakia) competing against a Czech dance troupe. Below the chata (inn or mountain hut), the dechovka band continued to fart away. From this point--where hundreds of people were lying on a grassy slope enjoying the show of traditional music and dance--Zuza and I hiked up to the radio transmitter at the summit of Veľká Javorina. From there, we had a nice walk along the open border on a ridge, for quite some distance.
The view on either side--one looking in Morava in the Czech Republic, the other looking into Slovakia--was spectacular. We walked slowly along the ridge for quite some time before starting the hike back down. We'd already had our beer and raspberry-mint "lemonade"--the rest of the latter we poured into a water bottle to take with us. People had vyed for our table, given how crowded it was. I'd left the rear lens cap for my binoculars at the inn, so I ran back inside to find it. And find it I did. We passed the dechovka bands, which Zuza decided she didn't like, and then walked down to the yellow trail, and then to the asphalt road below.
The climb down was punishing. Our legs, knees, ankles, and feet were aching... Every joint seemed to take a beating. My new hiking boots held up very nicely, and I had plenty of ankle and arch support. Still, it was a brutal climb back down. The reward was to be spat out of the mountain like watermelon seeds at Zahrádská and walk right down to the front door of Na Konci Sveta. This time, it was open but no one was there. Inside it was cool, quiet. The owner came and served us beer and grilled sausage. I spoke German with the pub owner's wife. She was Austrian, apparently. We'd overheard snippets of conversation in Slovak and German about Kiki, the goat. Kiki had given birth not thirty minutes before, and that's why the owner, Gejza, was late and why there were no patrons when Zuza and I arrived. Finally, we gathered up our packs, thanks Gejza and his wife for their hospitality, and hiked back up to the house at Ličkovi.
Ivan, the 50-something guy who'd done most of the cooking, was running at 30% his normal heart rate, due to a heart attack. He's currently waiting for a heart transplant and carries around a heart monitor in a bag slung over one shoulder. His cooking, especially the stuffed peppers we had for lunch yesterday, rocked. "Babina", Sylvia's mother-in-law, and Vlado's mother) sat quietly reading. I think she's deaf. The others were still felting away. Zuza and I stayed only a short while, long enough to share our adventures with the others, then packed up our things and said our goodbyes. Sylvia's husband Vlado drove us back the "crossroads" at Lubia (i.e where the bus stops in front of the pub) so that we could catch the hot and sticky bus back to Nové Mesto nad Váhom. There, after sweltering in the bus for 25 minutes, we arrived at the train station and secured our reservations. Zuza wanted an ice cream, so we shared a cone. The train ride home to Bratislava was uneventful, but at least it was air-conditioned. The temperature in Bratislava was already over 30 degrees Celsius. We then had to wait in line with the throngs of travelers to catch the #201 bus home--back to our cats and an untidy kitchen.
Update: As of July 2019, Ivan got his long-awaited heart transplant and is well on the road to recovery.