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We just keep getting further and further from the big cities. While Scott and I were in Olomouc I realized that I'd gradually been getting all I lacked in during the previous month in all those big cities. In Germany we slowed down and finally didn't have to follow a to-do list. In Prague we got a social life, and in Olomouc we escaped the crowds. In that little town I realized that the only thing I'd lacked for a while was a breath of fresh air, so we headed straight to the High Tatras moutain range--the natural highlight of Slovakia. I expected a bustling ski resort (which is how the Tatras are treated in the winter), but the town we stayed in was much smaller and therefore much more beautiful.
When we arrived in Nova Lesna we were a little worried that we'd gone to the wrong place, because the train let us off at a small shack in the middle of nowhere--just grassy plains for miles and miles. But when we looked in the other direction, we noticed the mountains looming over us, and decided to trust the directions given us and follow the little street. The road eventually led to a tiny town with one food market and one small church. The people in Nova Lesna were so friendly. The adults all wanted us to lodge with them, and the children all wanted to know our names.
We only stayed in the High Tatras for three days, but they were all packed. The first day we took a popular route through the wasteland left by the wind storm of 2004, into a shaded path that reminded me of New Hampshire Mountains. It was refreshing to feel my legs stretch over steps of rocks and roots. The next day was harder. We aimed for a section that promised metal chains and rungs (my favorite kind of hiking) but the hike leading there was hard enough. We clambered through the woods, switching back and forth under the cable car line up the mountain. After hours of rigorous work we reached the freezing summit, snapped some pictures, and took the cable car down for some comfort. It was definitely worth it, especially for the beautiful moss, the bizarre mushrooms, and an encounter with a red fox. After getting so sweaty and tired it was absolute bliss to enjoy the simple pleasures of eating and showering.
On our last day we decided to make a short trip to Poprad, the biggest town in the area, so we could get to an internet cafe, but when we got to the local train we realized that the ticket office was closed and the machine on the train was broken. The day before we had gotten a slap-on-the-wrist fine for trying to buy a ticket from another broken machine, and we weren't about to risk the full $50 fine this time. So we decided to walk the 9 kilometers to Poprad. We walked through flowers, thistles and brambles; we walked by ditches, angry dogs and housing developments; and after the longest 2 ½ hours of my life we stumbled into town starving, frustrated, and laughing at ourselves. Who walks to Poprad??
One day I was walking home from our local potroviny (grocery store) in Nova Lesna and I started singing the song Such Great Heights. It goes "They will see us waving from such great heights, 'come down now,' they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away, 'come down now,' but we'll stay..." When I noticed what I was singing, then I realized that I felt really free. After our city stretch Scott and I have stopped doing what we're supposed to do. And I somehow feel free of all outside suggestions and expectations. In a way, I feel like I could keep doing this forever. I know someday the money will run out, and I look forward to seeing all the people back home that I love and miss. But I guess I'm already grieving the end of this trip.
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