Tatra Melky

We returned to Nijmegen last night after a long and complicated journey back from Slovakia, which included but was not limited to:

• An early morning trip to the Slovakia-Poland border on a local bus; 
  
• A border crossing on foot; 
  
• A mini-bus from the border to Zakopane, Poland, which ended up being a leisurely milk-run-style loop through the greater Zakopane area.  By the end, we had at least 24 tourists and commuters crammed into a van that looked like it was built for 15!
  
• Another bus from Zakopane to Krakow, this one full of tourists bearing souvenir wooden hatchets and white Polish cowboy hats;
  
• A guilty but entirely satisfying lunch in a McDonald's in the mall adjoining the Krakow train station (in our defense, the only other restaurant option was something along the lines of  "Loco Taco Fiesta" which seemed like even less of a good idea);
  
• A nauseating post-McDonald's sprint through the Krakow train station due to my faulty reading of the Polish train schedule (in my defense, said train schedules make IRS forms look like Hop On Pop);
  
• A train to the airport (barely);
  
• A flight to Düsseldorf, Germany on RyanAir, which makes Southwest Airlines seem like those luxury Korean airlines whose soft-focus ads imply that your own personal flight attendant is available to give you a neck massage immediately after the safety video;
  
• An airport shuttle from Düsseldorf back to Nijmegen; and,
  
• A ride from the train station with our luggage bungee-corded to the backs of our bikes, in which we remembered how to ride bikes while dodging revelers, trash, and traffic from Nijmegen's annual Vierdaagse, or Four Days March extravaganza.  (More on that weirdness later.)
  

Whew!  

All of that itineration notwithstanding, we had a lovely, relaxing time in the High Tatras of Slovakia. 

We stayed in a quiet village called Ždiar, which boasts a few small markets, a pair of churches, about 15 small pensions, at least 20 tractors, and a fleet of feral chickens that come bursting out of the bushes to induce heart attacks in unsuspecting tourists.   

 

On our most ambitious day of hiking, we took a local bus to the town of Tatranska Lomnica, then rode a very sketchily attached cable car to a trailhead in the mountains.  

  

From there, we hiked along a bouldery path to a mountain pass at about 6600 feet.  

 

We hoped to see marmots, but the closest we came was a friendly British guy who advised us that he had seen a marmoset on his way up to the pass. 

 

On our less ambitious days of hiking, we explored the ridges and forests close to the village. We had fun taking lots (and lots) of photos of insects, spiders, slugs and snails.  

  

We also picked a half liter of wild huckleberries, which stained our fingers purple.  We smuggled the berries back to the Netherlands in a Nalgene water bottle!

We're reasonably certain that we're going to end up with huckleberry cobbler for dessert tonight, not Slovakian Forest Death Pastry.  

Last but not least, we found two delicious new snacks: first, a (marginally) carbonated drink called Kofola, which was created as a Communist alternative to Coke and Pepsi and is still very popular in Slovakia and the Czech Republic.  

It tastes a little bit like weak root beer mixed with lemon pledge, but it's nevertheless quite tasty and refreshing. 

As an added bonus, it sports the following catchy slogan:  "Když ji miluješ, není co řešit. / Keď ju miluješ, nie je čo riešiť."  

Translation?  "When you love her / There is nothing to think about."   

Nothing to think about, indeed. 

But the crown jewel of our culinary experiences in the Tatras was our discovery of a snack called Tatra Melky.  It has the flavor of a caramel popcorn ball but the consistency of a Rice Krispie treat.  In a word: yum! 

If we do have poison berry cobbler tonight, at least we'll die happy.