DISCLAIMER: I’m not sure why, but I haven’t posted anything on this blog in almost a month. For this, I am extremely regretful. Within the mind exists a wild, wild world and living in that world is Memory—a frail creature, indeed. I will do my best to recreate all of these events with the most vividness as possible; hopefully the passage of time will not treat me poorly in my restitution of these memories. I will also try to be more conscious about the inclusion of pictures with my ramblings.
This post starts from whence I left off and, while I am home for the holidays, I will make my most sincere effort to become fully caught up in all my travels. There is a lot to be shared—hopefully you will be interested in reading about it. If not, self-chronicling is a good enough reason for me. Enjoy.
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When I left Brno, I headed for a small town in Central Slovakia called Hliník nad Hronom. The name translates to Hlinik over the Hron, which is a river somewhere in the area. I never saw such a river, but as we’ve learned from taking some hiking trips in this part of the world, words like creek and stream don’t really translate directly. Therefore, any body of water that flows in a specific direction, regardless of size, constitutes a river. So, I guess I could have seen it without knowing.
Most likely I just didn’t see it, though.
A WAYFARER'S MURMURINGS 