I wake up in Zakopane. Its Wednesday. I don’t know where I’m going next. No target to get to. No invitation to accept. For the first time in maybe forever, I, the queen of being organised, am not. It feels liberating on the one hand. Strangely alien on the other.
First things first, whilst I’ve got the benefit of campsite WiFi I write my blog. This is a surprisingly time consuming thing but I’m enjoying crafting it, so I hope you’re enjoying reading it.
I look at Google Maps. Where should I go? Zakopane, whilst on the doorstep of some great hiking is a little too busy and touristy for my liking. I want to head somewhere quieter, and maybe somewhere slightly less mountainous so I can get out on the bike and achieve some distance rather than just meters climbed.
There was no science in my decision. I looked at the map, saw a big lake, thought “I might be able to swim in that” and headed east. Not too far, about an hour’s drive.
I find myself in a tiny village on the banks of the Jezioro Czorsztyńskie called Frydman. The weather is beautiful – sunny, warm and still – and the village has a quiet, relaxed air about it. I park up by the church, a white-washed, walled sanctuary, and without further ado I’m on the bike. I feel relaxed, content and at one with myself. And the bike ride only improves my mood.
The countryside in this part of Poland is delightful. Quite agricultural and with hills enough to test my bike legs. I ride for about two hours and hardly see a car or cyclist.
I’d be lying if I said I’m not getting some odd looks from people. Single girl, rocking up in a van from whence appears a bike which I then spin away on. Perhaps not your everyday sight in Frydman. But I’ve not yet felt unsafe or at risk.
On returning to the van I wander to the local shop and purchase some milk and fruit. The cooking in the van thing is going ok. It’s a bit of a faff having to tessellate all the cooking utensils and pans in the small cupboards, and my back is feeling the constant bending (everything is down by my ankles) but all goes well on the culinary front.
Because this village seemed so lovely and quiet I decided to remain where I was and after popping my nose into the church (simple on the outside, ornate on the inside), and inadvertently taking part in the tail-end of mass in Polish, I settled down for a quiet night with a book and a cheese sandwich – I couldn’t be bothered to cook!
I’m sleeping very well in the van. It beats a tent and I generally sleep well in one of those, so I suppose it was always going to be ok. So well am I sleeping in fact that getting going in the morning is a bit of an affair, and on Thursday I eventually get out on the bike by midday.
The training plan was a brick session I’d decided. That’s a bike plus run for the uninitiated amongst you. This is to train the legs into learning how to run in a triathlon after the bike. I generally don’t mind running off the bike though today, after a hilly round-the-lake loop, and in 30-odd degree heat, I could only manage a few miles. En route I scouted out a suitable swim spot for the next day so whilst the run probably had little training benefit at least it resulted in something worthwhile.
Concerned that questions might start being asked if I stayed another night in the church car park, I thought I’d move on to a riverside spot I’d passed on the bike the previous day. It looked idyllic, with a mountain river tumbling over boulders and rocks and I was in need of a dip in some sort of water having not actually showered since Tuesday!
It was a beautiful camp spot and as I submerged myself in the cold water of the river I decided I was a very lucky girl indeed. This feeling was only heightened as I had the chore of spending the evening with a book and a couple of bottles of my gluten free beer on the river bank in the setting sun. Jealous yet?
I was determined to make the most of Friday – another day of wall to wall sunshine forecast – so I actually set my alarm for 8am to force a decent start! This worked and by 11am (why it took 3 hours still I don’t know!) I was getting into my wetsuit and by the lake. A few locals were already sunbathing in the same spot and looked on, bemused, as I fastened my swim visibility/dry bag thing to my waist, put swim cap on and dived in. An hour later I returned and wrestled my wetsuit off in the shallows, pleased with my effort.
Sad to say goodbye to Poland, at about 2pm I crossed the border into Slovakia, my 7th country since leaving home (if you include England!).
First impressions? Two things spring to mind. The first was that it too seemed a beautiful bit of the world. Secondly concerns the nature of cycling and religion. To give this context, much as you’d see in France, all over Poland and it seems, Slovakia, small shrines and religious statues and crucifixes appear in the countryside along the roads. These are often well tended and have fresh flowers outside them. One of the first things I witnessed upon entering Slovakia was a cyclist (no helmet…something I’ve noticed quite a lot in Poland too) making the sign of the cross as he passed by one of these monuments. It crossed my mind that should he, or indeed any other rider, do this every time they passed such a site they’d be forever having a hand off the handlebars which could be a) unsafe and b) not very aerodynamic. I made a mental note to keep a watch of fellow bikers to see if it was a common theme.
Upon reaching the first major town, Spišská Belá, I parked by the town hall and got
straight on the bike. I’m following my nose when it comes to riding, and using a Garmin to make sure I can find my way back to the van when I’m done. This has worked well so far, and did so in this case too. I had a superb 3-hour ride in the Pieninský National Park with a lovely tail wind on the way out which resulted in a pretty gruelling return leg, also boasting a 25km climb. Phew. The scenery however got me through it as I had the High Tatras as a backdrop to ogle.
One of the great things I’ve learnt so far on this trip, or indeed even before it began, is how welcoming people are when you say you’re going on such a journey. I’ve had so many offers from people to come and stay, or stay with their relatives, or similar. These are people I’ve gone to primary school with, worked with, friends of friends etc. It’s great because as I learnt in Poland, you get to appreciate so much more about a place if you actually talk with people who live there.
And so it was that after my ride, a sticky, sweaty mess (and also, let’s not forget, fresh from an hour’s lake swim and the previous afternoons dip in a river and no proper wash since Tuesday) I found myself on the phone to a ex-colleague’s parents (who I’d never met) who live in Levoča, a Unesco world heritage town about 40 minutes from where I was. It had been my intention to go to a campsite in the lee of the Tatrus mountains, have an evening to clean myself up and then arrive with Nadia and David on Saturday. But when it became clear that I was so close they insisted I come to them there and then. I warned them of my ‘state’ but was assured it didn’t matter!
Feeling very self-conscious, I arrived about half past 8 and following a brief tour of their stunning restored medieval property (more on this in a sec), we went out for a bite to eat. I was hungry but even so, I experienced the best trout I have ever had. Simply cooked, it was delicious, as was the local garlic soup I had to start and the plum brandy slivovice chasers we all partook in. All in all it’d been a pretty awesome day. And I finally did get a shower 🙂
Nadia and David live in an astounding house. Within the medieval walls of the town, some matter of steps from the town square, this large restored property is like a museum. The vaulted hallway took my breath away as did all the original features – plasterwork, cellars, iron door, medieval ironwork, flag stone floor. The care and attention that has been taken in this restoration is clear to see and Nadia and David have been very kind and welcoming to me, allowing me to learn yet more history of this part of the world and giving me suggestions of how and where to best explore the region and all it has to offer. If you’re into castles and ‘the outdoors’ then you must visit the Spiš region of Slovakia. And if you’re into classical music, then the festival in Levoča every September, organised by Nadia and David, sounds like a must-do event. I’ll be buying a ticket for next year’s 10th anniversary edition.
After Friday’s exertions I opted for a rest day on Saturday and just as well; the weather was grey and wet. Had I not seen them the day before
I wouldn’t have believed the mountains existed, shrouded as they were in clouds. I spent the morning wandering around the town, visiting the church of St James with its 18m-high Gothic wooden carved alter (the highest in Europe no less, carved by the famous Master Paul of Levoča) and climbing its tower, some 213 steps, for the view of the surrounding area. A trip to the mountains for lunch with Nadia and David, to meet their friend Jonathan, a pianist who will be performing at the festival, and a quiet evening in was just the way to spend this dismal day.
Today the sun reappeared and I made the most of it. Another long ride planned. Another long ride done. The half ironman European Champs in Austria on the 4 September are not far away so I’m trying to cram in some hill work on the bike to prepare me for what will be a tough bike leg in Walchsee. My running is suffering because of this but that’s always the way with triathlon. Why do one sport when you can do three? Just not all three to the same effort and intensity all the time.
The ride today was 120 hilly kilometers, and I saw some really lovely things on the way. The geographer in me was fascinated by the travertine spring on the road out of Levoča. Just on from here I went through the tiny ecclesiastical walled town of Spišská kapitula, consisting of a catherdral, a former monastery and one street. Then, the crowning glory of the region, Spiš Castle, a 12th century fortress built on the site of an old iron age hill fort. Furthermore, just a short way down the road from the castle, the gorgeous little church at Žehra with its fine medieval wall paintings, which, whilst different to them, reminded me of some of the lovely churches in the South Downs with similarly preserved frescos. All this in the space of 10km. I was concerned if the trend continued I’d never finish the ride for keeping to stop to take pictures!
But finish the ride I did, including a lunch stop, and a chat with a fellow Slovak cyclist who I caught on a climb. We had a short conversation where he ascertained that I was on my own, travelling, training and racing. He showed surprise at this and then asked if I was a student. When I remarked that I wished I was but that alas I was 36, he assured me I looked nothing like that old. I liked this chap!
I can’t wait to explore more of Slovakia as I say goodbye to Levoča and move westwards tomorrow to the gorges and beyond.
And the matter of cycling and religion? I did witness more reverence being shown today by another cyclist, so I conclude, in this highly statistically significant survey (of two), that all cyclists in Slovakia must do this 🙂
Where Wheels Go 
Another cracking blog entry helene – back in Bicester after camping so catching up on things missed with limited wifi!
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