While we enjoyed seeing Krakow, the real intent of our trip to Poland was to hike the Tatra mountains. This range stretches along the Polish-Slovakian border and is the highest range in the Carpathians. We had done our research. We had ordered maps ahead of time from a Polish company. We had figured out how it was all going to work. We took a bus from Krakow south to the resort town of Zakopane, just on the border of the Tatra National Park. It was crawling with tourists so we were glad to hop in a little van which zoomed around corners to take us to the border with Slovakia. We walked across the border, but dallied a little too long and missed the connecting bus. We waited, got some food, and took the next bus into Stary Smokovec, a small town that the guides assured us was the place to set out for a hike into the Slovakian Tatras.

As we got off the bus, we were accosted by a group of women (and a couple men) who were renting out private rooms. Why not? we thought. And went with a woman on a local bus to the village of Nova Lesna. We walked with her through the town, past a the main street of houses, each with a vacancy sign in its window, in one or more of several languages. The woman's house was on the other side of the village; no one would accidentally stumble by it. She didn't speak any English, or German, or French, and we didn't speak Slovak, but we still managed to communicate. The room was quite inexpensive, but as we found out when we went out to dinner that night, the cost of living was also quite low. Our one-night stay provided a tidy sum to the woman's family. It turns out that Nova Lesna lies right outside the Slovakian Tatra National Park and so isn't advertised in all the tourism literature. No wonder so many of its residents cross into the park to pick up tourists.

We got up the next day, and it was overcast, but not raining. The woman and her children had left by 6:00am, but we were more leisurely and strolled out to the electric train stop around 8:00am. Still, when we returned to Stary Smokovec, we were too early; nothing was open yet and we couldn't buy the detailed maps or provisions we needed. We also tried to reserve spots in one of the mountain huts, but had to no avail. Not an auspicious beginning.

MK

A ladybug. One might think that because we saw so many ladybugs on this trip, that we were bound to have good luck.

 MK

Ben studies one of our maps in our room in Nova Lesna. Our great plan was to hike up from Stary Smokovec (1010 meters) to Sliezsky Dom at 1670 meters. Then we'd follow the Tatranska Magistraria east, skirting the tallest mountains just above the vegetation line. We'd end the first day by descending to Popradske Lake (1494 meters) and spending the night at its mountain hut. The second day we'd hike the steep pitch up to the mountain hut just below the summit of Mount Rysy, the tallest peak in the range which allows unguided climbers. The third day we'd peak Mt. Rysy (2503 meters), cross the border back into Poland in doing so, and begin our descent. From there we would spend the final day hiking to one of several spots where we could easily pick up transportation back to Zakopane and Krakow. We had built an extra day into the trip to take care of the unexpected, and we could even go into a sixth day, if necessary, and miss out on sight-seeing more of Krakow.

MK

The morning was overcast, but not raining. Visibility was poor, but we could see a couple nearby mountains.

BH

Stary Smokovec.

BH

Well, it rained. It rained the whole first day, on and off, but mostly on. It drizzled. It occasionally rained harder. We were very wet, but still optimistic.

BH

Occasionally the clouds would move enough for us to catch a glimpse of the splendor of the area.

MK

Even the flowers looked wet.

BH

After a long day of hiking over hard rocks with nothing much to see except clouds and, well, more rocks, we came to our final descent.

BH

As if by magic, the clouds parted briefly and we could see our destination: Popradske Lake and its hut. We were very much looking forward to becoming warm and dry.

MK

Flowers on the mountainside.

MK

We had packed sleeping pads and sleeping mats. All the guide books specifically explained that the Tatras become very popular in summer and the huts are usually packed to overflowing. It is not uncommon to have to sleep on the floor. Imagine our surprise, then, when we discovered we could get a beautiful double all to ourselves for 412 Koruny (about $12.50) per night. We even had our own sink. Very soon we were dry and warm -- and very tired. But happy.

Unfortunately the rest of the story is less happy. This trip was, really, a flop. The next morning we woke up and it was pouring rain out. Not only that, but my knees hurt. A lot. Too much all at once -- a full pack, a hard route, a long hike. We decided it would not just be unpleasant to try to hike up Rysy, but it was also a bit dangerous, especially given my knees. We decided to wait out the day at Popradske and hope for better weather and happier knees the following day.

No luck. My knees felt a bit better, but the rain was coming down as hard as ever. I was amazed. It had poured non-stop for over 24 hours. It kept raining. We decided to give up and descend back into the valley. From there we could take a bus back to Stary Smokovec and retrace our route by bus and van back around to the northern side of the Tatras. It was probably a good decision, too, as the temperature dropped and hiking became not just wet, but downright cold. Instead of T-shirts, we were hiking in sweaters, rain jackets, hats, and gloves.

Back at Zakopane in Poland we found ourselves a room and contemplated what to do next. We spend the next two days wandering around the tourist town of Zakopane a bit and trying out one of the valley hikes, just to do something. We were tired of playing cards, of making up crossword puzzles for one another, of simply being indoors. It was still pouring rain. Seventy-two hours and counting. We had a TV in our room and the weather forecast clearly explained that there was a weather system that had come up from the south, over Croatia and Hungary, and was now sitting, swirling, directly over southern Poland and northern Slovakia. It wouldn't budge. The smiling woman weathercaster told us cheerfully that the weather was beautiful in all the rest of Europe, in the low eighties and sunny. "Europe, enjoy clear weather for the next several days." All of Europe, but us, that was. Even in Bavaria, where it had rained almost every day from April to July, had a sunny week that week.

MK

We go on a valley hike in the rain. Wet, but at least we were outside.

MK

The rivers rose as water cascaded down from the mountains. On the TV there was news of local villages flooding.

As we were landing in Munich, I caught this glimpse out the airplane window. This single cloud, hovering to the south -- probably over our town of Bad Aibling, I thought gloomily. The weather was following us home.