Hi, Tatras

Oh what a wonderful weekend. This is a good week in Slovakia - history made the national uprising of 1944 almost coincide with the signing of a constitution several hundred years ago, giving two bank holidays. On Friday I'm off to Prague, and this weekend past I went hiking in the High Tatras and fun-having in Eastern Slovakia.

So: there are mountains in the north of Slovakia called the Tatras; there are high ones and low ones. On Saturday Manuela and I got the 05:27 train to Poprad-Tatry, where we met Julia, a friend of M's off with whom I hit it immediately, and the weekend was nicely set up. We hiked the Saturday, then went another hundred kilometres east to Presov and on to Saris, home of the beer and of Julia. We were welcomed with the fabled hospitality of the non-Bratislavan Slovaks, and again speaking a little lingo was most helpful. But I appear to be in a narrative, uninspired mindset today, so i will hope that the following are a thousand words apiece.

On Sunday Vel'ky Šariš had a theatrefest, culminating in a production on top of their hill, among the castle ruins and followed by bonfired sausages, motorcycling monks and much merriment.

There were six or seven scenes acted out along the spiral path to the top of the hill. Very good use of the setting. Languistically incomprehensible theatre more fun than equivalent salsa class.

Manuela and Julia, on our way to

the pleso in Popradske Pleso. Or it might be Štrbske Pleso. Either way, its water had the texture of cold, infinite silk.

It's not all beautiful though. The patch you can see is the edge of the destruction wrought by a wind in November 2004 which has wrecked what must previously have been incredibly beautiful woods on the southern side of the High Tatras. Just a wind, nobody to blame, and the feeling is an ongoing deep sadness among those from anywhere nearby. Someone has an extensive gallery here.

P.S: major thanks to Hazel - good luck in Malawi.