This morning at 5:30 a.m. my dad, Györgyi, Brandy, Jeff and I left Dataw and headed over to Hilton Head for the 23rd annual Piggly Wiggly turkey trot 10K. It was an absolutely gorgeous morning and we (along with 1,400 other runners) joyfully trotted through the island. Getting the t-shirt (above) was our primary motivation, but we all ended up having such a wonderful race and early Thanksgiving morning.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
Just below the Julian Alps’ Kanin Mountain lies the picturesque town of Bovec. We had always intended to go to Bovec, because Brian wanted to mountain bike in Slovenia, but I don’t think any of us anticipated just how beautiful the little town would be.
We stayed for a total of four days, which turned out to be the right amount of time. Trying to fit in all of our activities, which included many hours of just resting and gawking and so forth wouldn’t have worked without staying 3 nights.
We stayed at Alp Hotel, which was right in the city center. It was a great 3-star hotel with a fantastic view. Our first morning, we discovered that this little town of about 3,000 has this 7 a.m alarm:
On our first full day, while Brian went mountain biking, Györgyi and I went on a full day white water trip on the Soča River. Zsolt’s good friend from school, Tamás Vrana, who owns the Soča Rider adventure company in Bovec, was so kind to take us on the trip. It was one of the best experiences of my life, honestly. The water was piercingly cold, so we wore full body neoprene suits, but the cool blast from the white water was a refreshing smack to counteract the climbing temperature and direct sunlight.
There’s a small part of the river that is red flagged for most groups and boats, so we walked downriver a bit to an opening in the gorge where Vrana brought the boat alone. This is what it looked like:
We could have walked even further downriver to where we could have climbed back into the boat from river level. But instead, Vrana encouraged us to jump from the rocks into the water to where he was waiting for the boat. Unfortunately, when we were throwing our oars into him, Györgyi flopped hers beyond his reach, so he had to paddle downstream and then come up to the rocks with us. We were then faced with not only jumping into the water from the rock wall, but then swimming downstream, padding to the side, and then getting back into the boat (which he had tied up). It was definitely a scary challenge but we all did it and felt amazing (though we couldn’t feel most of our extremities because of the coldness of the water). Everyone very scholarly and appropriately used their rescue swimmer positions going downriver to the boat (on your back with head upriver and legs downriver) except the constant rule-breaker Györgyi who was paddling face-first downstream with more stroking power than any championship Hungarian swimmer (she doesn’t like being cold).
The whole experience was incredible. We ate lunch halfway down on the stoney riverbanks. Brown bread, salami and paramasan sandwiches with lemon and peach tea. We discovered cookies later in the trip, which Györgyi asked Vrana to give to her midway threw the rapids (she likes cookies).
The trip was over at 4 p.m and I wish it had only just started then. I hope that we can do it again when my parents are here later this summer.
That night we sat at a local outdoor bar and watched the America-England World Cup game 1. I don’t think it could have been more perfect than that moment. Especially considering Slovenia is also in the same group with America and England.
The next day we did a morning ATV tour with Mac who owns Outdoor Freaks agency in Bovec.
It was just the four of us and Mac took us up into the mountains, the national park, and around Bovec. It was a fantastic tour and a great way to see the mountains, river and surrounding area. Plus there’s something absolutely invigorating about traveling the outlying passes on a quad. I hope that I can also convince my parents to do this trip!
Though we came into Bovec from the Italian side, we decided to take the 24 turns up and down Kransjka Gora and go back to Hungary through Slovenia. At the summit, we found snow. In June.
On the way back down (at about turn 18 or so) we started to smell the breaks burning, so we decided to pull off and wait for a few minutes at this little rest place. It was an outdoor cafe/someone’s house/maybe park ranger headquarters. You could take a shower there for 2 Euros, as long as you didn’t mind the little dog laying on the couch near the bathroom. We didn’t stay long though–just enough time for a Coke and a few pictures of the inspiring view.
I can’t wait to go back to Bovec (and I won’t be leaving behind my good camera next time either). Even without the adventure trips, I would return just to sit on a park bench, eat the Italian gelato, and take deep breath after deep breath after deep breath.
We drove into Semmering at night after a late departure from Budapest. Stuhleck at Spital am Semmering is the highest summit of the Eastern Alps and is the largest ski resort in East Austria. It’s also a very easy three-hour drive from Budapest. That is if your Garmin GPS is working correctly and doesn’t have any trouble guiding you around a closed mountain tunnel pass. And doesn’t take you up the entire opposite face of the mountain where there are no lights and suspiciously no cars. And then doesn’t suggest that you try to drive up a utility road with about 2 feet of snow on it. And then doesn’t suggest you drive all the way down the mountain weaving through hair-pin steep turns, turn around, and then drive up again as the Alps blizzard is doing everything it can to test out those new Audi back-wheel drive quattro power system…
But we eventually made it. And we didn’t end up in a ditch at the summit of the Eastern Alps. And the moon was so beautiful glowing behind the mountains we were almost able block out the quite perilous situation we were in. After all, we were going snowboarding in the morning. So it was worth it.
The hotel was snow-covered and pretty much exactly how you would imagine a guest house on the slopes. Outside there was a small pub where on Saturday a brass band was playing as people sipped Austrian wheat beer at the tables and on the sun chairs, and rotisserie chickens sizzled on the open-air spit.
The weather on Friday was amazing. Sun so bright you almost couldn’t feel the freezing temperatures because your skin was too busy filling itself with rays. From the lifts, the trees looked exactly how I would imagine them in ancient, northern forests. These evergreens look hardy, for sure, survivors in temperatures and altitudes where other plant life just can’t make it.
At full speed it would take maybe 30 minutes to get down the mountain from the very top. Though I can’t be sure. We weren’t going full speed, and we often pulled over to the side to just sit down and admire the view. The light was so bright that my point-and-shoot camera couldn’t discern the sparse cloud-cover for distant snow-covered ranges. But trust me, it’s magnificent.
At almost the top there was a great restaurant where people would stop to eat lunch and have a drink. On Friday we had the daily offer, which I think every single person in that huge venue was also eating:
To our credit we didn’t drink any beer until we made it all the way down. If you are at nice grocer you may be able to get Edelweiss, which is an excellent wheat beer. I’m not a big fan of fancy beers myself, but it was really good. And for Györgyi who is typically Hungarian, therefore a wine-drinker, she said she really enjoyed the Edelweiss. (Though last year when she had it she said it tasted like banana bread, so maybe you shouldn’t take her advice.)
The more I go snowboarding, the more I can understand those people who abandon their office jobs, move to a little ski town, and become a ski or snowboarding bum. Amid the pines and peaks it almost seems reasonable, especially mid-February when the sun feels like a warm, velvet blanket. But for now I’m going to have to be a weekend snowboarder, and try to enjoy any time and peace I do have on the mountain.
In a few hours we’re leaving for Austria’s Eastern Alps. I’ve been hearing amazing things about the resort and I can’t wait to snowboard above the cloud line. [And dutifully write about it as well--ahh the difficulties we traveling travel writers face].
Györgyi bought me an early early birthday present. I just adore Burton’s preppy line.
Now of course I’m going to have to accessorize with a new jacket and board. It wouldn’t be fair to the shoes to mismatch.
We will be staying mid-mountain, so I’m not sure if they will have internet access. If so, I’ll post a slope report. Otherwise, pics and stories when we return.
As I mentioned last week, we spent a few days in Donovaly with our friends Szilvi and Meme. Donovaly (Dóval in Hungarian) is a small, Slovakian village in the Banská Bystrica Region. It’s located between the Veľká Fatra and Starohorské vrchy Mountains in the Low Tatras National Park, which lends itself naturally to a very popular ski resort.
The drive to Donovaly from Budapest takes about three hours. There is some warranted criticisms about Donovaly that it is crowded and full of a too-posh crowd (or–not-friendly-to-Hungarians crowd–though we didn’t experience that attitude at all). And of course, it’s not Austria. But for a three hour trip through mostly small villages, it’s a nice weekend ski resort. You could, I would imagine, even just go for the day if you left early enough. As you can see from the pictures, the weather was ghostly. That gray haze from the ice and fog didn’t clear the entire trip.
We stayed at DamiSport right at the top of the blue slopes. It is a 3-star hotel/restaurant/bar/ski rental/ski school. And actually it was a very nice three-star establishment. The rooms were lodge-inspired, though with modern shower and electronics amenities. And free wireless Internet, which even certain five-star hotels don’t offer these days. For less than 200 Euros we had lodging, breakfast, and dinner for 3 nights. They are also open in the summer and host the wild downhill biker crowd.
Since we are still learning, Donovaly was a good choice for us. The blue slopes were high enough, though allowed us to spill out toward the untouched sides of the slopes and come down slowly as we practiced.
By the beginning of the week, the crowds weren’t as bad, which of course made it much easier for us. And actually we did really well. I can now confidently say that Györgyi is just as hooked on snowboarding as I am.
Probably one of the best parts of the days spent on the mountain were the time we sat down in the powder to the very side of the slope and just looked into the haze.
As cold as it is out there, you can really work up a heat in all of the gear (since we’re still beginners, we were wearing FULL body armor, like snowboarding football players). So it was nice to just sit down in the snow and listen to the sounds and look at the snow-logged pines.
And of course, we had some amazing meals and drinks in the most adorable little folk-lodge settings.
I was a big fan of the Urpiner beer, which was the local beer from that region in Slovakia. Györgyi enjoyed 1 or 2 Becherovkas, which is a bitter made in Czech Republic.
And ONLY because we were getting so much exercise on the mountain, we decided to have a few rather rich meals. The top selections were from a delicious lunch we had on the second (and third) day. On the left–Chicken Paprikas with dumplings and cream. And on the right, (I don’t know what it is officially called, so I will give it a name) dumplings’n cheese with fried bacon. Seriously.
We had a wonderful time in Slovakia. The pines were beautiful and the weekday slopes weren’t too crowded. And for the price, it was really worth the trip there. (But I hope it won’t be our last snowboarding trip this season.)
Somewhere around ten kilometers from our hotel is the entrance to the Plitvice Lakes National Park. I’m not sure why I was under the delusion that there wouldn’t be that many people there, but even at 8am, the parking lot at the park and path entrance was filling up with tourists. It’s a world heritage site after all, and Europeans take their hikes pretty seriously.
We hopped on the bus at our parking area and were shuttled to the first entrance of the park, just above a series of caves where it seemed we were at the highest point of the park, with the best view to start our hike and look down to the beautiful lakes below. For those of you who know Györgyi it probably won’t come as a surprise that when I turned around to look for her, she was up at the front of the pack confirming the trip location and drop point and who knows what else with the shuttle driver, and also giving some map advice to some other tourists. But since she did such a good job of keeping us on track during our trek, I’m glad for this character quirk of hers.
As we looped down through the top part of the path, we came to the first view of the lakes, and I must say it was really spectacular. I don’t recall ever seeing water that color, and I apologize because my pictures really don’t even do it justice. But it was azure, like a jewel, and you could see many feet under the surface just by following the clear rays of the sun.
Gazing down at the people below on the boardwalk, I couldn’t help but think that the scene was reminiscent of one of those fantasy movies with elves, or maybe something out of the jurasic. Apart from the tourists, it all seemed so untouched and preserved.
We made it down to the ground level around 9am, and luckily we were able to have the boardwalk and the close view of the smaller falls and shallows mostly to our selves and only a few other visitors. In just a few short hours, the whole place was swarming with tourists, so much so that it was almost hard to walk on the paths there were so many people.
The fish didn’t seem at all bothered by the crowds. Obviously, being that it’s a national park, there was no fishing, so the little trout didn’t seem to care that people were so close, taking pictures, walking above. I couldn’t believe how many of them there were. I wanted to pet one, but didn’t.
Zsolt had a very high tech underwater camera so that he could get a few shots of the fish. I’m looking forward to seeing them, because I imagine they didn’t really mind the subaquatic intrusion as they didn’t really scatter away, only just turned over, seemingly, to their more photogenic sides.
One of the more remarkable things was how the smaller waterfalls and alleys of water just rushed right down on the side of the path. Water was everywhere. Even in the more wooded areas you could smell the water and hear it constantly as it scaled down the various slopes.
The trip wasn’t all directly on the boundary of the lake, either, and in fact the landscape and flora changed a lot throughout the day. We saw reeds, tall trees, rock caves, in addition to series after series of waterfalls.
After a few hours, we made it to the ferry boat that took us twenty minutes across the larger lake to the otherwise where we were going to see more woods and more waterfalls. The boat ride was incredibly peaceful and almost nothing made a sound as we glided through the water. On the otherside of the lake, the woods were darker, and each bit of water reflected looked like the smoothest surface of marble.
We saw some local animals like frogs and ducks. There was a huge group of Japanese tourists who I really don’t think ever saw a duck before because they must have cumulatively taken about 500 pictures of it.
For about two hours we circled the opposite side of the trails until finally coming back through a larger set of waterfalls, splashing their mists onto the boardwalks. Since it was past midday and hot, people crowded to the center to get a coating of the cooling sprays.
We took the boat back to where we left off the first time, and found a nice table in the shade of the trees to eat lunch. It seemed like everyone on the picnic grounds was eating the same things: sandwiches, trail mix, fruit and beer. And a few ice creams.
After lunch we lumbered back toward our starting point, which happened to be the bottm of the caves. We climbed up and up and up the steep stairs until we were back at the highest point again of the trail.
Patiently we waited for the park bus to come and pick us up, and we finished our hike mid afternoon. It was a long day but a very lovely one. I don’t know for sure, but I estimate that we hiked around 15 kilometers, perhaps a bit more. And it wasn’t straight walking either, but rather ascent and descent and rocky terrain. But it really felt good to be out there, in the fresh air.
I have to say that I was so incredibly impressed by how well maintained this park was, especially for the amount of foot traffic that it seems comes through every year. The paths were extremely well marked and clean. The water and woods and other surrounding areas were completely free of any unnatural contaminants. No trash. No gum. It was unspoiled and lovely and I can see why people would go there for an experience away from the city.
By the time we got back, we were so exhausted we ended up taking about a two-hour nap before dinner. Having some time to reflect back on that day, I would definitely recommend it to anyone visiting the area and in search for a good outdoor experience. It’s not extreme sports. It’s not a luxury sea vacation. But it felt so good to just be somewhere calm and peaceful for the day. And I’ve never ever been a nature-hike kind of gal, in fact I’ve usually avoided such things, but I will whole heartedly admit to really enjoying this little Croatian treasure.
a portrait with friends
There is so much happening in the next few weeks I’m having a hard time even keeping my days straight. I’ve been busy with consulting work, but also with editing and sending out agent query letters. And all while the spring is charging toward summer and before I have a chance to catch my breath I’ll be back in America for a few weeks. Until then, next week is Szeged, the following is an oil conference, the following is a short vacation in Croatia, and the following is a wedding. And then it’s only about eight weeks until I’m at home, eating at Rocknes, Primos, watching the Indians, and drinking Great Lakes Dortmunder.
Sigh. Now, back to Budapest.
On Sunday I walked out to the rakpart to take a walk with Barnabás and I was really shocked by the lack of cars down by the river. We crossed the usually packed road and went by where the house/restaurant/touring boats dock during this season. I wanted to take Barnabás down the steps to the water to see what he would do, all while keeping in mind how Katherine Hepburn fell into the canal in Venice and had a permanant eye twitch, which is only to say that I didn’t want him to actually go into the Danube because it’s probably similarly dirty. Of course he tired to, getting his whole lower body (and new food cast) wet in the process.
I had totally forgotten that it was the day of the Margit Island races. I think there was a fun run, a 5K and a 10K. I don’t think there was a 1/2 marathon, but there could have been.
It started with just two front runners following a police car and motorcycle. And since we didn’t take our chance to cross back over the street to walk home when we had the chance (before the pack caught up), we had to wait about thirty minutes for the other 9,998 people to run by.
It was nice, actually. Perfect time of morning. I wish I would have looked into it because I was feeling really envious of not running the race, especially because with those roads close down, the view would have been incredible as you got toward Margit Bridge and then back onto the island. Oh well, there are more races this spring and summer, so once everything else settles down, I’ll make more concrete plans. Until then…back to the grind.
Departure and arrival of mountain gondolas
Since I have lived here, I almost always have done my writing while sitting at a nice, solid and simple Ikea wooden desk, which allows me to gaze out my balcony window and over the thirteenth district’s old European rooftops. But today I am writing from the couch. Why? Because my arms are so sore from snowboarding that I can’t lift them high enough to reach the computer keys on the desk. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
At least we felt 100% prepared
Györgyi and I had everything planned for our long weekend at Kreischberg resort in Murau, Austria. We had our cute snowboarding outfits bought, our helmets, pads, braces, goggles, snowboards, boots and bindings rented, and we had satisfactorily read the prep book and watched the videos on idiot’s guide for learning how to snowboard. For those of you who have never snowboarded…You. Cannot. Imagine. how difficult the first day is. Nor the amount and kinds of muscles you can strain and pull allll at the same time.
small Austrian village
We left Budapest early on Thursday morning with Zsolt, Györgyi’s boss, and his fiancé Szilvi. The trip was really great actually. After we passed west of Vienna, the landscape started changing dramatically. Suddenly there were MOUNTAINS and old castles on remarkably sharp ridges. And tunnel after tunnel after tunnel as we drove through the mountains.
When we finally made it to the hotel, we found that our room looked right over the lower slopes. It seemed high and steep from our view, but we learned that what we could see from our balcony was only about 10 percent of the height. The rest was hidden by the ridge where the gondolas disappear. In fact, even though we didn’t go to the very top of the mountains that can be snowboarded and skied down (just the part for beginners) it still took us over 10 minutes to ride up the mountain on the gondola.
The hotel, Relax Resort, is Hungarian owned, and it seemed like the majority of the people there were Hungarians, like in our group. The Austrian presence was felt, though most strongly when the waiters brought us exactly measured glasses of wine (1/4 or 1/8 liters) and then mistakenly tried to serve some of the guys in our group a single short shot of Jägermeister instead of the more generous, let’s say, Hungarian pour. The food at breakfast and dinner was all buffet style and for the most part quite delicious. There was a mixture of Austrian and Hungarian classics, and a wide variety to give plenty of energy for the long day of snowboarding, or as we knew it on the first day, falling down the mountain.
Szilvi and Andrew with much needed Beer
Now, we didn’t go snowboarding unaided. We had a really amazing guide, Andrew, who is a snowboard enthusiast and adventure store owner who at times, while you were lying on your back face covered in snow and ice, leaned over you and waxed poetic about his snowboard-as-life philosophy that was quite touching and actually quite motivating.
Andrew discussing fundamentals
The four women I was in a group with were all beginners like me, and Andrew would hold our hands about 25 meters down the mountain and then run back up and get the next person, waiting on their stomach or backs after falling.
Here, Andrew is holding both me (just fell) and Brigi
He did this all day long. I really don’t know how. And while it only takes him about six minutes to get down the whole lower part of the mountain, it took us over three hours to get just HALF WAY. Luckily, at the half way point, there is a cute little mountain lodge where you can buy drinks and food and simply rest on a picnic bench, take off your jacket, and relax in the sun before taking the gondola back up for another run.
Györgyi and mountains
It was much as you would expect the first day to go. We learned how to stop on our toes and on our heals, which is more about feel than anything else. After you’ve fallen about a hundred times, I suppose your body just doesn’t want to get hurt anymore and you learn how to stop yourself. And we eventually did.
I smile and wonder if I will be able to get up again
The next day the storms of the first day had subsided and the skies opened in a magnificent burst of sunshine. Though we could barely walk, lift our arms, lift our legs, or move our necks from side to side, we got back up the mountain and finally learned how to do the S turns. Once I finally figured it out, Andrew, who was finally able to be on his own snowboard, met me toward the end of the first slope, and held my hands all the way as we zigzagged down to the lodge. He spoke English well enough for me to understand his instructions, though I especially adored his gleeful shouting go, go, go, go, go, and he pointed me down the mountain in a kind of tandem dance. Suddenly all of my fear about falling and correcting and perfecting left me. I’ve always considered myself to be kind of a beach girl. I love to swim. I love the ocean. I love water sports. But after this weekend, I definitely have a new-found passion for snowboarding and I really hope that I will be able to go again soon. Once I can lift my arms over my head again, of course.
Regardless of how well or quickly people caught on, or if they did at all, the experience was absolutely beautiful. As I stopped every fifty meters or so and sat down on the snow to look out at the panorama, I was astonished by the beauty, exhilarated by the view. Snow-capped mountains. Ancient pines. The modest, almost sleepy town hugging the snow-dusted valley.
The skiers and snowboarders on the mountain in their swaying forms, those just resting in the lodge, others collecting sun on the chairs, and even the guests they brought with them to enjoy the winter rays at the top of the mountain:
This dog had a seriously awesome hat
It all made me realize how fortune I am to be here and having these experiences right now. Not only was I dazzled by the resort and the region, but I feel overwhelming gratitude to Györgyi for inviting me, for the incredible generosity of her company, and for the kindness of her colleagues.
Hovi, Zsolt, me, Györgyi and Andrew
It was truly one of my most favorite winter adventures.
Budapest has been blanketed with her second snow since Thanksgiving, though this time it’s lasted for about two weeks and has covered most of the city. I don’t think it’s going to last long, as by the first of the month the weather is supposed to warm up again, but it’s beautiful while it’s lasting.
Snow on rooftops, lines of street cards, lions’ heads.
And it’s perfect to put anyone in the mood for a little slope time.
Tomorrow we’re leaving for a snowboarding trip at the Kreischberg resort, which is in Murau, Austria, at the foot of the Stolzalpe Mountain, which apparently is the sunniest mountain in the region. That sounds nice. We have all of our equipment, including helmet and protective gear (picture above for my mother so she won’t be too worried about me plummeting down black diamond hills like an ice rocket). I probably won’t be posting until I return on Monday unless the videos of me falling and falling and falling repeatedly for hours on end are too hilarious not to post during the weekend. I can tell that I’m slowly turning into my father, in that even more than the snowboarding, I’m looking forward to the resort and sitting by crackling fireplace with a window view to the mountain.
I had another lovely weekend in Szeged, as usual, and it wasn’t just because the Steelers won, though I did stay up until 4:30 before heading back to Budapest a few minutes later. G and I tried to find Americanish things to cook for our little Super Bowl party, but without key ingredients like cilantro, hot sauce, torilla chips, jack cheese, avocdos, etc., it was a bit of a challenge. We ended up ordering pizza around nine and making popcorn balls, the only other thing I could think of as I stood pouting in the long aisles of Tesco. We did find American beer, though. Even though I would never drink Budweiser in America, when I drank it on Sunday night I had that this-is-the-best-drink-ever-invented feeling.
February is goign to be a busy month around these parts. This weekend I’m going to the theater and the Mangalica Pig Festival. And further down the month there is snowboarding in Austria and hopefully a sidetrip to Belgrade at the end of February. I find it’s best to keep busy during February, though it’s much easier here since the weather is pretty survivable right now. Almost 50F. Not bad considering my parents have snow higher than their mailbox in Akron.
