poprad: gateway to the tatras

Yesterday morning, we took the little electric train that runs the short distance from Poprad up to the villages in the foothills of the Tatras mountains. The train was packed, and our stop at Starý Smokovec was similarly flooded with visitors.

We picked up some bread and smoky string cheese from a cafe, then walked past the hotels and touristy shops. When we found the path B had chosen, I was sure we'd made a mistake: the number of other people of all ages going the same way were obviously headed towards the cable car, I presumed. In all our travels, we've gotten used to leaving the crowds behind the moment we start walking away from the short, easy paths, and this winding route was supposed to take us way up into the mountains.

But then we passed the cable car station, and there were still a ton of people. Kids, parents towing sleds, older people walking with some difficulty — everyone was happily trudging up the snowy path, which was wide and reasonably flat but had been packed down by many feet into a treacherously slippery surface, especially when it sloped. But there was more than enough room for everyone, and the camaraderie only made things more fun.

The cable car line was to our left (it looked completely stuffed with people whenever it went by). On our right, more people were sledding down a wide, snow-covered road, squealing with fear and delight. The weather was perfect, and the whole situation was strange and funny and pleasant.

The next village, Hrebienok, was even busier than the first (especially the sled rental stand). We found the start of the next path, and it was smaller, slipperier, and sloped steeply down into a valley. I was nervous about it, but the locals were undaunted, and we decided to give it a shot after four 70-year-olds with canes started down ahead of us.

The next couple of kilometers were slow going as we picked out each footstep carefully, but the zig-zagging path was delightful and the views just kept getting better. Eventually we arrived at Rainerova Chata, a tiny hut on the side of a hill with about a hundred people standing around outside. Inside, a white-haired man stoically scooped mulled wine out of a big pot on an ancient wood-fire stove and a woman served the cups to the tightly-packed line of customers.

With the deep inner warmth the wine had provided, we considered our options. Almost everyone was heading off on another path down the narrow valley and up the other side, presumably to the next chata. That looked fun, but we decided to take a path that went further up the valley. This route was much quieter, and when we passed out of a copse of trees a while later, we had a remarkable panoramic view with mountains all around us.

We  eventually turned around, hiked/slipped our way all the way back down to Starý Smokovec, squeezed onto the train, and walked home from the station, tired but very satisfied.

almost made it to Poland!