Driving home from Slovakia last Sunday under an apricot-colored sky, the ski crew made the observation that skiing really was just an obscure tangent to the weekend. This was the point of our journey after all.
Picturesque, but chilly Banska Bystrica
The reason why I love CETP-ers so much is that none of us really gets bent out of shape if, say, someone decides to shoot through the Hungarian/Slovakian border like sporting a toll pass if it appears to be closed. In Chad’s defense, there weren’t many lights on. The only sign of life being the guards that shouted after our car as it raced past the booth, and then again when we tried to reverse, but only succeeded in jerking forward. Luckily, our subtle charm won us entry to Slovakia…or maybe it was just pity for the crazy Americans and one Hungarian in the clown car (we referred to Juli’s car this way because at one point, we had to use Tetris logic to squeeze six of us in).
We managed to arrive in our quiet and calm Slovakian town late at night after an eventful few hours of driving. Juli, Chad, Jillian, Jon, and I were to meet Liz at a nice inn that night...however the woman at the desk didn't seem to understand our situation and it took a good ten minutes of using the group's limited German, pantomimes, and pointing to get her to allow us in Liz's room. We didn't end the night there, but headed out to the only happenin' night spot in town: the Kapitol Pub. We danced to a combination of Anastasia, Natasha Beddingfield, Robbie Williams...oh and for nostalgic purposes: Kriss Kross (Jump).
We woke up the next morning to a nice breakfast of eggs, ham, bread, and tea. Dressed in our ski garb, we were ready to hit the slopes. We cruised to the tunes of R.E.M. cutting through the mountainous terrain in Juli's car (all of us enthused to get outside and play in the snow). However, just around the bend, a Slovakian cop stopped us with his wand. With Juli's help, we eventually figured out that there was a dog race at the ski mountain that afternoon and we weren't allowed to drive any further. We turned around and followed a van full of Hungarians who were going to a different "mountain" to ski. Turns out, the mountain was someone's hilly backyard with tow ropes (and what looked like a lemonade stand at the bottom) Most people were actually sledding. We couldn't rent any equipment, so we headed back to our inn feeling a little defeated as the shadows on the ground became longer and longer. Our disappointment was soothed a little by a nice hearty Slovakian lunch in town. I remember eating a potato pancake filled with beef and chicken (it actually resembled a burrito). We took advantage of the warm restaurant for about 3 hours and questioned whether we would ever get to ski this weekend.
With Chad's exhuberant willingness to talk to the locals, we finally discovered that night skiing was an option. Shaking that post-lunch sluggishness, we threw on our snow-pants, (rain-pants for me) and suited up to ski again. This time, we got past the road blocks and headed for the rental shop. It was now night and snowflakes cluttered the air.
Juli, Jillian, and I should have worn our ski goggles at night.
After the inevitable and sometimes tedious task of boot/ski/snowboard fitting, we were unleashed to ski freely on the one lit-up slope. The skiing was refreshing and suddenly my energy returned. There weren't many people on the slope that night, so at one point, I flew down the slope, feeling as though I had the entire thing to myself. The snow and wind got so bad at one point that my entire goggle-less face was coated with icy flakes. I remember thinking to myself, "so this is what it feels like to be a snowman." At this point, we made a pit-stop to warm up and get drinks. The table next to us was occupied by some skiers, one of whom tried to do a John Lennon impression with some sunglasses sitting on the beak of a skiing wooden bird. On the way out, we passed a disco "igloo." In my opinion, this is a great idea! A place to warm up, dance, and quench one's thirst while still near the slopes. That night, shrouded in post-ski exhaustion, we stayed up late talking in our room...laughing at the human-size lamp that gave off minimal light and telling weird childhood stories.
We decided to go skiing for a few hours the next morning so that we could take in the scenery during the day-light and use our skiing muscles a little more. While Chad conquered a slope on his own and without falling down during his first weekend of snowboarding, I made it down a different mountain only ONCE. The top of the mountain stole my breath in more ways than one. First, it was extremely wind-bitingly cold and second, the view was maginificent. The blue sky framed the snowy mountains and forests in that post-card perfect way. Juli and I took pictures at the top...trying to delay the moment when we would have to cut our way down the impossibly steep top of the mountain on our skis. John and Liz had taken off long ago, as if born with skis attached to their feet. Familiar panic entered my stomach, but I knew that it was a decent challenge. Although I did wipe out several times...even doing a record-long slide backwards with skis in air, I made it down that damn mountain. Liz and John had to guide Juli and I down the icy top of the slope. Towards the end of the run, I re-gained a little of my old confidence and felt a pang of jealousy every time I saw a little seven or eight year old kid shoot past on their short fearless legs. Our two hour pass ran out before Juli and I could redeem ourselves on the old slope from last night.
The most colorful and fun store front I've ever seen.
After a quick cafeteria/ski resort style lunch we hit the road back to Budapest. We made it to the city at about 6:15 that night. I hopped a 7pm train back to Szerencs and completely passed out across from a girl who was crying about something. The next morning at school, I told my contact teacher, Etelka, how tired I was (I also had that good ski-sore). She told me, "you might as well do it now, because when you have a family you can't do that type of thing all the time."
A great trip with not as much skiing as I expected...but once again the good company, humor, stories, food, and music didn't fail to make it a favorite weekend of mine.
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