Central Slovakia: Ružomberok & Brezno

After successfully leaving Hliník nad Hronom through the help of my new Slovakian friends, I took a couple trains to a town in central Slovakia called Ružomberok (pronounced: Roo-zhom-bare-oak.) After being apart for a couple weeks, Lisa and I reunited there for a relaxing weekend. It is a pretty good sized town and has all sorts of options for accommodation; people often stay there when skiing in the low section of the Tatras mountain chain. Since it was off-season, though, we were able to find a very nice penzion that only charged about 8 Euros per night.

Prior to going there, some people told me that the whole town smells funny due to a nearby paper factory. I didn’t smell anything, though. Who knows.

Friday night was peaceful—I was tired from the day’s hectic travels and Lisa was in a similar mindset. She met me at the train station and showed me how to get to the penzion since it was about a ten minute walk and night had already fallen. Once situated there, we ran out and grabbed a pizza—nothing special. Just something cheap to fill us up so we could turn in. We were both pretty tired from teaching in the morning and traveling in the afternoon/evening.  In fact, this is the night that we started watching the TV show Mad Men.

We are now 2 seasons into the series—you can only walk around and sightsee so much once Winter arrives.

***

Saturday morning, we went to Billa—our favorite grocery store by far in central Europe—and picked up a simple but pleasant breakfast. We explored the town for a while and eventually returned to the penzion to regroup. We knew we wanted to do some hiking, but Lisa had also discovered something in her Lonely Planet guide to Slovakia & Czech Republic that seemed intriguing. Apparently, central Slovakia is the region where the process of making Bryndza (an unpasteurized sheep cheese that I have mentioned all but infrequently in this blog) became popular. Nearby to our penzion (about 10 minutes by car) is a place called Salaš Krajinka, which is a traditional farm and building complex where sheep cheese is still prepared and sold as it has been for centuries.

We wanted to check it out, so we looked into taking a bus. Nothing. So, Lisa decided she would just call the establishment and see what the best way was to get out there. It turns out that the
phone number listed is simply a cell phone number for one of the owners of the company who, luckily, speaks brilliant English because of his time studying and working in Australia. He told us that, while transportation to the building is a little tricky to come by, he was in town doing some business and he was willing to pick us up on his way back.

And this he did.

Excited for cheese.

While there, we walked around the complex (which was located in a gorgeous spot between some beautiful hills and cliffs), checked out the buildings that were recreated to look like traditional shepherd’s barracks, went to the on-site bakery and tea house, ate some halušky for dinner (topped with—you guessed it—none other than more smoked cheese), received a very comprehensive tour of the building where the cheese is produced by the same guy who picked us up in town AND were given an incomprehensibly large sampler of all the different kinds of cheeses that they sell for free. While I am more than willing to tell all of the juicy details about our visit to this cheese utopia, Lisa has already done so.

Check out her blog post here for a much more thorough account of our trip to Salaš Krajinka —> http://incurablystircrazy.wordpress.com/2012/12/15/salas-krajinka-an-education-in-cheese-and-hospitality/

Free platter of 7 different kinds of sheep cheese.

This is the kind of place that is defined by an overwhelming sense that everybody involved in the operation is very dedicated to what they do and how it’s done. That could not have shown through more during our experience. I would whole-heartedly recommend that  anybody I know should pay a visit to Salaš Krajinka and check out a guileless and impressive Slovak company that has their priorities straight in all regards.

***

We got a ride back into town in the same car, but not before our host gave us some information about where we should hike the next day. Our journey for the morning, then, was a short bus ride to the village over to try to tackle Veľký Choč—the highest peak in the Choč Mountains (pronounced: Hoach—but the first ‘H’ is really throaty, like Hebrew or something.) We were pretty ambitious to take it on as we hadn’t done very much hiking in a while and were eager to explore the surrounding hills which, up until then, were only able to be appreciated from afar.

We took off in the morning (though, later than originally planned due to some laziness on our
part) and took a 10 minute bus ride to the trailhead. The beginning of the trail led us up a road and out of the village, toward the ever-growing hills in front of us. Eventually, we were thrown into the forest and were faced with a pretty sharp incline in the landscape. It, by no means, was an easy hike. The sky was incredibly clear in the morning, but as we hiked more clouds rolled in and the sunshine ceased altogether. It was one of those strange situations when, although it was very chilly outside, I was sweating like an animal because of how strenuous the grade of the hill was—definitely one of the most difficult hikes I’ve taken in a while.

I would be as bold as to say that it was almost not enjoyable. But I won’t say that. I might have at the time, though.

Trailhead eagerness. Not prepared for how difficult this hike is about to become.

“Am I having fun yet?”

We reached a point along the trail that flattened out and allowed for what I can imagine would have been an excellent view. The only problem was, there was no view to be seen—everything in every direction was fog. You couldn’t really see more than 10 feet in front of you. In any event, we stopped here for some food (rolls torn open and filled with leftover cheese from the day before) and to take some pictures. We were 1,248 meters above sea level; the summit of Veľký Choč is 1,611 meters. We hung out for ten minutes or so, trying to make our decision—whether or not to go on in the relentless fog or turn back. In the end, though it seemed like a defeatist move, we decided to call it a day and turn around. To be fair, though, we did get back in time to meet up with our boss at the train station and get repaid (about 75 Euros each) for past train/bus tickets. Probably a good decision.

Some fellow hikers partaking in a foggy lunch.

Veľký Choč is definitely a place to which I would like to return, though. It remains to be summited.

***

So ended our weekend vacation in Ružomberok. We then headed to Brezno—a town of over 20,000 people and our next teaching destination. Our friend Kevin had already taught there (though, in a different school) and was able to give us directions from the bus station to the accommodation. [This is more helpful than you may think. We usually arrive places on Sunday night. In Slovakia, Sunday nights in any place that isn’t a city can be equated to an old, western ghost town—not the best situation if you’re not sure about which direction to head.] Even with these directions, though, we had to ask some woman for further information on the street. Usually, though, we stay in places that nobody in town has ever heard of.

It’s sort of an endless cycle.

To be perfectly frank, my time spent in Brezno wasn’t my favorite. The town sort of reminded me of Bradford, PA—a place that at one time was probably more booming than it is now. The weather was pretty atrocious for most of our stay and our accommodation was uncomfortable at best. It was constantly filled with strange, shifty men and the inside of our room made me feel as if I was sleeping inside a Winnebago. Not to say it was unsafe, it just wasn’t ideal.

Sleeping in the Winnebago made me miss this perfect dog that we ran into during the prior weekend. We almost stole him.

Our walk to school was about 25 minutes every day (some guaranteed exercise, at least) along a main road racing with trucks and cars. The school was a nice building and we were graciously met by the English teachers—both of which spoke English very well. They were very helpful and seemed eager for some conversation to brush up on their skills. The students ranged greatly; we had a few that were excellent and charming, a few that forced you to do everything you could to not backhand them every time they spoke, and lots that fell in the middle. It was a nice week in some regards but, with a couple exceptions, rather forgettable. I will talk about those exceptions.

***

Our accommodation was equipped with a small kitchen. We decided that it would be the perfect week to save on some cash and cook cheaply for ourselves since we would probably be spending lots of our free time in the room watching Mad Men, anyways. Two nights out of five, we whipped up some pasta and veggies for ourselves. Each time we were in the kitchen, this man was in there with us, complete with sweatpants and slippers, making some incredible stew. He had nice cuts of beef, what looked to be self-picked mushrooms, carrots, celery, etc. He was a sizeable guy and pretty much defined the word jovial. While he spoke no English, Lisa and I felt as if it was an unspoken understanding that he found the other men in the accommodation to be as deplorable as we did.

We bonded with him, in one way or another. I never did get to try his soup, though.

In addition to the soup man, we had a couple very nice experiences at Restaurant ELF—the nicest restaurant in town according to the locals. The students told me about it on Monday when I asked about things to do/see in town and our teacher friend invited us to get some wine there on Wednesday. We graciously accepted and were a little bit shocked when we walked in. The first thing that greets you upon entering is a painting of Gandalf (from The Lord of the Rings) wielding the ring of power, more or less shedding some light on the restaurant’s name.

Contemplating the Thanksgiving scenery. I’m sure Tolkien would be proud in one way or another.

The building is complete on the inside with what could be described as a playfully forest-like theme. There is a large tree with a winding staircase on its right that leads up to a second tier of seating and a creek on its left (with a small wooden bridge crossing the running water.) Everywhere you look, there are murals on the walls of different scenes and characters from The Lord of the Rings—Legolas, Frodo (at Rivendell, the home of the elves), a map of Middle Earth, etc. It was an odd sensation because, while this all makes it sound like a Disney ride of some sort, the restaurant was a very classy place.

In fact, Lisa and I returned the next night for Thanksgiving dinner. Admittedly, it wasn’t very traditional, but the food and drinks were both excellent and reasonable. I indulged in some creamy tomato soup, a balsamic chicken breast with grilled asparagus and some chocolate mousse for dessert.

Certainly not turkey and stuffing, but still festive in its own right.

Today’s Recommended Song: Shovels & Rope – “Birmingham”

Off to read some more Sherlock Holmes.

Au revoir.