The Tatras

After a long drive to the family cabin in the Slovakian Low Tatras we all needed a good night's sleep.

The following morning gave me time to torture all of Michael's poor neighbors with my burgeoning trumpet skills.

Another short drive and a couple of gondola and ski lift rides later we were ready to start our trek to the highest peak in the Low Tatras.

On the way, of course, Rocky indulged in very scientific geological study.  Here he stopped to say, "look, Kathy, someone must have taken a piss on this rock."  Oh, that will be good for a laugh for a long time.  Right Michael?

The highest peak in the Low Tatras...we made it.  It is marked wtih the Slovakian symbol of the double cross.

This is typical of the trails.  They are like Roman roads and there are intermitent huts along the way where people can buy a meal or even get a bed for the night.  Many of them are so inaccesible, however, that supplies must be packed in and waste packed out...not by animals but by humans.  We arrived at a hut at the same time that a sherpa, as they call themselves, arrived with a pressurized keg of beer, water and assorted other commestibles on his back, weighing a grand total of about 240 lbs.  He had great legs!!!

 Unfortunately, we missed the last gondolas down, so we had to hike back down to the car.  The first route we took was straight down under the ski lift, through the brush and berries to the next godola station which was also closed.  The rest of the hike back was less trecherous but our knees were really hutrting by then.  However, the company was great and we celebrated our safe and sound arrival back in civilization with a toast of the local specialty, Horic.

The following day Rocky and I spent the afternoon in the ironclad water of a nearby spa surrounded by Slovakian native palm trees.

The next day found us treking the High Tatras with our native Mountain guide.

We all enjoyed the views.

Having gone back to Bratislava after our Tatra adventures we prepared to leave for lands further afield, until we discovered we couldn't find the cell phone.  Per Rocky's request I had turned it off to conserve the battery (never again) so we couldn't call it to see if it was simply hiding in our luggage.  Thinking that we had left it at the cottage Rock and I headed back in the borrowed car with the borrowed GPS (Thank you George and Kristina) where we did not find the phone...until I accidently spied it peeking out of my toiletry bag, which I had the whole time.  The phone is on, never to be misplaced again.  So we took advantage of the time and place just to rest...reading our books and messing around.

This is Rocky doing his best Bruno imitation.

Tomorrow we hit the road.

Love to you all