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Published: July 15th 2023
Magnificent Mountain Scenery
Chata pri Zelenom Plese, backed by imposing peaksThe Tatras are a compact mountain range that forms part of the border between Poland and Slovakia. Although looking much like the Alps in miniature, the Tatras are actually a northwestern extension of the Carpathian Mountains, that form an arc through Eastern Europe. Sub-divided into three separate ranges (the White, High and Western Tatras) they are a chain of rugged mountains topped with jagged peaks, rising up to 2654m in height. And best of all, they are easy to explore - not only is there a complex network of hiking routes snaking throughout the mountains on both sides of the border, but as with numerous other mountainous areas in Europe there is also a series of mountain huts placed in strategic (and often downright beautiful) locations, allowing people the opportunity to walk from hut to hut over multiple days without having to carry food or shelter.
I had long wanted to explore the Tatras for myself, so after flying from Scotland to Poland to spend five days seeing the sights of Krakow, I then took a bus two hours south to Zakopane (a tourist trap like so many other alpine resort towns) before hopping across the border to the little
Nearing the top
The final few steps to Široké sedlo, after the most brutal of climbs town of Ždiar in Slovakia, to tackle the Tatranská Magistrála - a 60km hiking trail leading almost the entire length of the Tatras on the Slovak side. Hopping off the bus at 10am, I stuffed a chocolate muffin into my mouth and hit the trail, following an environmental education trail from Monkova Dolina up to Kopské Sedlo through the Belianske (White) Tatras. Established thirty years ago to allow access through the Belianske Tatras (which were closed to tourism in 1978 for conservation purposes), the trail was unrelentingly steep, gaining over a thousand metres in height in less than 5km.
Unfortunately for me, though I wasn't likely to need any of my camping gear for the next few days, I was nevertheless obliged to carry all of it with me, as I had no intention of going back to Zakopane. So unlike just about every other hiker around (all of whom looked to be carrying around 8-10kg) I had somewhere in the vicinity of 16kg on my back. And to further add to my discomfort, with a low blanket of clouds touching the mountaintops for almost the entire day, the humidity was horrendous. All of which meant that for the
Twin Peaks
View of the Belianske Tatras from Vyšné Kopské sedlo best part of three hours (the amount of time it took me to climb those thousand metres) I was sweating profusely... so much so that at one point, after a particularly brutal section of trail that gained over 260m in just 640m (a gradient of more than 40%) I peeled off my saturated singlet and proceeded to finish the climb in just my shorts, despite the fact that the temperature up there could have been no more than 10°!
Eventually I managed to haul both myself and my backpack up onto the pass at Široké Sedlo (Wide Saddle, 1826m) which separates the northern and southern ends of the Belianske Tatras, while offering the first impressive views of the High Tatras, whose highest summits were all buried in the clouds. From there the trail continued to climb up to Vyšné Kopské Sedlo (Upper Stack Saddle), which at 1933m was my highest point for the day, and offered the most spectacular views of all - with the High Tatras off to one side, the Belianske Tatras on the other, and the deep valley of Javorina Dolina (Maple Valley) in between. It was shortly before this that I came across a small
Mountainous Backdrop
View from the trail to Zelene Pleso, with Kežmarský Štít (2558m) on the left and Jahňací Štít (2229m) on the right herd (presumably a family group) of chamois, who effortlessly picked their way up the slopes in a manner that I could only dream of!
From there it was all downhill (well, almost) for the final hour of the day's walk, dropping down past Kopské Sedlo (Stack Saddle) towards Veľké Biele Pleso (Great White Tarn), before turning off towards a side-valley that terminated in a spectacular glacial cirque hemmed in by a vertical wall of rock, dominated by the angular peak of Kežmarský Štit (Kežmarok Peak, 2558m). And best of all, this was the setting for my first ever night in a mountain hut (at least in the European sense of the words) at the wonderful Chata pri Zelenom Plese, sitting pretty just above its namesake lake ('Zelene Pleso' meaning 'Green Tarn'). For €52 I secured myself a bed in an upper floor dormitory, a two-course meal for dinner (pumpkin soup followed by veal schnitzel with mashed potato) and access to the breakfast buffet in the morning. The incredible views, however, came for free.
The next day dawned clear, and with check-out time being 8:30am I was on my way nice and early, which was just as well considering
Mirror Image
Chata pri Zelenom Plese, reflected in its namesake lake the Tatranská Magistrála followed a switchback route straight up the side of a mountain - the same trail that I'd spotted on my way down from Kopské Sedlo the day before and thought 'geez, I feel sorry for anyone attempting that route'! At least I wasn't alone in my suffering though, having befriended a couple of Belgian girls named Emily and Olivia who I'd met the day before, as we sweated our way up to the pass of Sedlo pod Svišťovkou (Saddle below Svišťovka) at 2023m - a gain of almost 500m in just 2.5km. Unlike the day before, this time the humidity was tolerable and there was a cool breeze to help make things more comfortable - yet still, no sooner had I reached the pass than the 'sweat singlet' (more liquid than material by this point) was off to dry on a rock, as I basked in the morning sunshine. And with the peak of Svišťovka only a few minutes climb away, it wasn't long before I was standing atop my first Tatras peak - Munro-bagging be damned, I might just become a Tatra-hunter instead.
Unlike the previous day's high point, this time around the views offered
The Climb Steepens
Scaling fixed chains on the climb to Sedlo pod Svišťovkou an extraordinary contrast between the mountains of both the High Tatras and Belianske Tatras laid out on one side, and flat plains stretching out into the distance on the other side. This would have to be one of the few places I've ever visited where high mountains rise straight up out of flat plains, with no intervening foothills to speak of whatsoever. And the Tatranská Magistrála would continue to showcase this extraordinary juxtaposition for most of the day, as the trail slowly lost height while cutting across the southern slopes of the High Tatras, with the Poprad plains in full view virtually every step of the way.
Stopping off for a much needed break beside Skalnate Pleso ('Rocky Tarn'), I suddenly found myself amongst a crush off humanity as the cable car up from Tatranská Lomnica disgorged visitors by the dozen - many of whom would no doubt be switching to the upper cable car headed for the very top of Lomnický Štit, which at 2634m is the second-highest summit in the Tatras. Most of the highest peaks in the Tatras are off-limits to independent walkers, meaning that the only way to reach them is by going with an
High Peaks & Lonely Lakes
Lomnický Štít reflected in Skalnate Pleso official guide - though judging by the precipitous nature of these mountains, that's probably for the best!
In an effort to avoid the crowds I decided to press on for another hour to Zamkovskeho Chata before stopping for lunch, only to be met by another horde of tourists when I got there. Gone were the quiet trails of the Belianske Tatras from the day before! It was here that I had originally been planning to spend my second night of the walk (as Emily and Olivia were doing), but due to the hut having already been fully booked by the time I emailed them from Krakow, I had ended up booking a bed at Teryho Chata instead. As I gazed out at the throng of people milling about outside Zamkovskeho Chata during my meal of goulash with breaded dumplings, I was glad that I wouldn't be spending the night there - though this was tempered by the realisation that Teryho Chata sits a full 500m higher (at 2013m), adding a further two hours worth of climbing to the day. And to make matters worse I would then have to retrace my footsteps the next morning in order to return
Picturesque Valley
Heading toward the headwall of the beautiful Malá Studená Dolina to the Tatranská Magistrála, as the only other onward routes from Teryho Chata involve scrambling up steep slopes that I would be ill-advised to attempt with a full pack. But whoever said that solitude comes easy?!?
Setting off uphill from Zamkovskeho Chata the crowds were soon but a fleeting memory, as the rushing waters of the Malá Studeny Potok (Little Cold Stream) provided a soothing soundtrack. As the trail emerged into an almost flat basin, there was no mistaking the task ahead; much like the day before the valley came to an abrupt end at a wall of rock - only this time I would have to scale that rock wall to reach the hut! It was at this point that the Tatras infuriating propensity to channel water underground became apparent, as each time I spotted a waterfall pouring down the sides of the valley I would make a mental note to fill my water bottle when I reached the stream in question, only to find nothing but dry rocks in the creek bed!
Eventually I managed to drink my fill when the trail crossed the Malá Studeny Potok just below an impressive waterfall, before I continued my
Mountain Refuge
Teryho Chata (2013m), sitting directly above Malá Studená Dolina laborious climb up the headwall of the valley, while marvelling at the ever-improving views of the Poprad plains beyond the v-shaped cleft of the valley walls. And then just when I couldn't take any more, the trail finally emerged beside Teryho Chata - a little 24-bed mountain hut surrounded by solar panels, with a dining room looking straight back down the valley toward the plains below. And though the cramped sleeping quarters and lack of showers meant that my dormitory suffered from a less-than-pleasant aroma, this was more than made up for by the hearty food and convivial atmosphere... even if that 'hearty food' consisted of a second round of goulash with bread dumplings for the day! Washed down with a couple of whisky & cokes (courtesy of the half-litre of duty-free Jameson's I'd been lugging around in a plastic water bottle since I left Krakow) it wouldn't have mattered what they put on my plate.
Unfortunately the weather had taken a turn for the worse overnight, so it was under slate grey skies and constant drizzle that I made the steep drop back down the Malá Studená Dolina (valley) to Zamkovskeho Chata in the morning. Adding a peculiar
Morning Workout
One of several young men tasked with transporting supplies the old-fashioned way to Teryho Chata interest though were the young men lugging supplies up towards Teryho Chata, carrying humungous loads on their backs that towered way above their heads! I had spotted one the day before carrying an empty beer keg back down the valley, and immediately wondered who brings the full kegs up? Surely that would be a job for a helicopter - those things weigh 65kg!?!
With the weather actually getting worse I continued on down to Hrebienok, before climbing back up the southern flanks of the Tatras in the direction of the Horsky Hotel Sliezsky Dom (Silesian House) by the shores of Velické Pleso. The views should have been amazing, looking out over the Poprad plains towards the Low Tatras, but instead all I saw was the inside of a cloud. At times the visibility dropped to less than fifty metres, and apart from the bright green of the lichen-spattered rocks I saw no colour whatsoever other than grey. It really was quite depressing, and as I got slowly soaked to the skin I couldn't help asking myself what the hell I was doing up there! Eventually the clouds parted just enough to reveal a glimpse of the oversized hotel of
The Clouds Close In
Less than ideal weather on the morning of day three Sliezsky Dom, where I met up with Emily & Olivia (who had spent the night at Zamkovskeho Chata) over lunch, and together we wondered if there might be any improvement in the weather during the afternoon.
It wasn't to be so. In fact if anything the weather got worse. Between the constant drizzle, complete lack of visibility, and a path that continued to climb for what seemed like an eternity - gaining around 800m over 12km from Hrebienok - and on wet rock where every footfall had to be carefully measured, it was one of the least enjoyable days I have ever had in the mountains... and that was before I realised I had left my travel towel tied to my bunk bed at Teryho Chata, on the one day when I was truly in need of something to dry myself with! Truly the only thing luring me onwards was a hot shower and filling meal at the Horsky Hotel beside Popradské Pleso, which seemed so far away as to be in an alternate universe.
About an hour from Sliezsky Dom I started to hear the sound of rushing water, and guessed that there must be a waterfall
Lost in the Fog
Worsening visibility later on day three somewhere in the mist, until I reached the stream in question and noticed that the ground seemed to be flooded up ahead. It was only then that the clouds parted ever so slightly to reveal the lake of Batizovské Pleso, looking like some sort of fictional underworld with its backdrop of jagged peaks wreathed in mist and swirling clouds. I would have taken a picture but I'd long since had to pack my phone away to avoid drowning it in my pocket, and as much as I would love to have stopped for a break it would only have served to delay my arrival at the hotel, so there really didn't seem any point! Still, there was something about that lake that captured my imagination - an almost sinister feeling that would have had the hair on the back of my neck standing up if it weren't soaking wet like the rest of me. When a Slovak hiker stopped to exchange greetings with me and told me there is a dragon's lair behind the lake, it didn't seem the slightest bit fanciful!
And that remained the only event of note for the rest of the day until, finally, I
Break in the Clouds
Snatching a glimpse of the hotel beside Popradské Pleso at the end of a long, wet day reached what I suspected was Sedlo pod Ostrvou (the Saddle below Ostrva) where my descent to the lake would begin, and for only the third time since leaving Zamkovskeho Chata the patchwork of clouds that had been so effectively stitched together started to come apart at the seems, allowing me a fleeting glimpse of the most extraordinary scene. Suddenly I was standing on the lip of a deep bowl in the earth, surrounded on all sides by steep mountains; and there at the very bottom lay a deep green lake, beside which was the Horsky Hotel Popradské Pleso - my destination for the day! In a straight line it was probably no more than a kilometre away, but with 500 vertical metres separating me from the lake it necessitated about 2.5km worth of switchbacks to get there... and all still on rock slick from the rain. But at least the finish line was finally in sight... at least for a few minutes, before the clouds closed ranks again and I was left in my own little world once more!
Eventually I did make it down to the lake - right after I caught up with a fed-up Emily and
What a difference a day makes
Leaving the Horsky Hotel Popradske Pleso under sunny skies on day four Olivia - and before long I was enjoying a hot shower followed by an equally hot (and delicious) meal downstairs in the hotel's restaurant. And best of all, for the first time on my trip there was a freshly washed and folded bath towel waiting on my bed - which may have somehow found its way into my backpack by the time I left the following morning!
After stuffing myself silly at the breakfast buffet in the morning, I finally got going around 10am only to be confronted by the busiest hiking trail I have ever encountered. In the hour that it took me to negotiate the rocky path from the hotel at Popradské Pleso down to the resort village of Štrbske Pleso I must have passed at least a thousand people walking in the opposite direction! It reminded me somewhat of the Bondi to Coogee coastal walk in Sydney - which, by the way, you should never attempt on a weekend - and it was only now that the accuracy of the trail's name (Tatranská Magistrála meaning 'Tatras Highway') became apparent; it was almost like negotiating a London tube station at rush hour! Yet incredibly, when I spoke
Upside-down Pine Trees
Reflections in Jamské Pleso, my end point on the Tatranska Magistrála to a young Slovak couple at my campsite that evening, they warned me against hiking to the lake of Morskie Oko and onto the peak of Rysy on the Polish side of the mountains, because that trail would be even more crowded!
Emerging from the woods in Štrbske Pleso, the sheer volume of people heading up the mountainside was staggering - cars were lined up bumper-to-bumper waiting for a parking space, while the main road into town was lined with souvenir shops as vendors cashed in on the cashed up, offering a mind-boggling array of useless trinkets to anyone foolish enough to venture within their gravitational pull. I couldn't get out of there fast enough, stopping only to grab some takeaway food before continuing on to the lake of Jamské Pleso for a scenic picnic overlooking the water.
And it was there that I finally said farewell to the Tatranská Magistrála - for the time being at least - despite the fact that it continued on for another 9km to the village of Podbanske in the Western Tatras, as I had no way of moving on from there until the following day when the weekend-only buses would be
Lakes & Mountains
View towards Solisko (in the centre) from the lake of Štrbske Pleso running. So instead I followed a different trail back to Štrbske Pleso, before hopping on the mountain railway down to Tatranská Strba on the edge of the Poprad plains, where I was able to stay in my tent for the first time since leaving Scotland at the local campground. And crowded though it was, there was a wonderful vibe to the place, which had the biggest and most immaculately-kept bathrooms I've ever seen at a holiday park, in addition to a restaurant that was open until midnight - and which sported a vast array of drinking vessels for seemingly every beer available in Slovakia!
With my tent pitched for two nights I had the luxury of walking with only a small day-pack on Saturday, so after hopping on the mountain railway back up to Štrbske Pleso I headed off on an 18km trail that formed a loop around the nearby mountain of Solisko. Flying up the slopes unencumbered by my weighty backpack, I emerged above the tree-line to ample views of the plains below and the impressive waterfall of Vodopad Skok plunging off an escarpment halfway up the valley of Mlynický Potok. Mounting the steep slope with the aid
Taking the Plunge
Vodopad Skok waterfall, on the climb to Bystra Lavka of fixed chains, the waters of Pleso nad Skokom ('Lake above Skok') then came into view, before a prolonged climb led to the larger lake of Capie Pleso. Laying back on a flat boulder in the sun to dry both myself and my sweat-soaked singlet, the eye was naturally drawn to a steep cliff on my left where an intermittent line of people could be seen snaking their way upwards toward the pass of Bystrá Lávka.
Crossing a snowfield immediately above the lake, the trail then steepened dramatically as views opened up to include the smaller, higher lake of Okrúhle Pleso, whose surface was almost entirely frozen. Incredibly, only fifteen minutes after leaving the lake shore I was 200m higher, preparing to tackle the crux of the route - the crossing of a snow patch with a slope of around 60°, followed by a short section of fixed chains leading up an almost vertical rock chimney to the appropriately-named Bystrá Lávka ('Sharp Notch') where a gap in the knife-edged ridge just wide enough for a single person to fit through - and thus acting as a bottleneck for the assembled crowd of hikers - allowed access to the next
Not for the Faint-hearted
Crossing a steep snow patch just below the pass at Bystra Lavka valley over, where an equally-steep descent immediately followed. It was all pretty exciting stuff, though my heart was in my mouth for a moment when my left foot suddenly slipped a couple of inches about three-quarters of the way across the steep snow patch!
Having subsequently crossed the ridge crest through the doorway-sized gap of Bystrá Lávka, a similarly steep descent led towards the partly-frozen lake of Vyšné Wahlenbergovo Pleso, which I had stopped to take a picture of when a young woman started speaking to me in Slovak. I thought she was asking me to get out of the way, until she switched to English and asked if I would mind taking a picture of both her and her friend. When she discovered that I was from Australia she broke into a wide smile, unashamedly proud of the fact that someone from the opposite side of the world would have seen fit to visit her country! As the conversation progressed she suddenly asked "Would it be okay if we joined you for the rest of the walk - we're planning to head back to Štrbske Pleso via the refuge on Soliskom?". Her friend burst out laughing at this
Hiking Buddies
Susannah and Maria, on the way to Chata pod Soliskom point, exclaiming "Really? You just met him and already you're inviting yourself into his company?!". "But I like talking to him and I get to practise my English" came the reply.
And this is how I ended up spending the rest of the afternoon in the company of a couple of lovely Slovak women, Susannah and Maria, as we first made our way down the valley of the Furkotský Potok; before turning off to tackle the short climb to Chata pod Soliskom, a refuge at 1840m located beside the top station of a cable car coming up from Štrbske Pleso. With Susannah repeatedly complimenting me on my excellent Slovak pronunciation, and Maria sparking my interest by mentioning that she had visited around 60 countries, the time flew by; and before we knew it we were back in Štrbske Pleso saying our goodbyes. For someone that almost always hikes alone it was as pleasant an interlude as it had been unexpected, and it ensured that I returned to the campground in Tatranská Strba with a broad smile on my ever-so-slightly sunburned face.
With a mountain hut in Poland booked for Monday and Tuesday night, I bought myself a seat
A Perfect Day in the Mountains
Looking down on Popradske Pleso from near Sedlo pod Ostrva on the Flix bus from Stary Smokovec on the Slovak side of the mountains back to Zakopane in Poland for the Sunday afternoon; and though I could have taken a train between Štrbske Pleso and Starý Smokovec, I decided instead to take advantage of the continued good weather by reversing a large part of the route along the Tatranská Magistrála that I'd been unable to enjoy due to the ghastly weather of three days earlier. Admittedly this was a little ambitious, given that I first had to pack up my tent and get the mountain railway back up to Štrbske Pleso, then climb 700 vertical metres up to the Saddle below Ostrva (up the same switch-backing nightmare of a trail that I had descended on my way to Popradské Pleso on that fateful afternoon) and then continue for a further three hours all the way to Sliezsky Dom, before tackling the two-hour descent through the wooded lower slopes of the mountains to Starý Smokovec.
All of which meant that I was up at the ungodly hour of 5:30am; onboard the first train of the day at 7:06am; and had somehow completed the lung-busting, soul-destroying climb up every one of
Never-ending Viewpoint
Following a belvedere path high up on the southern slopes of the Tatras, overlooking the Poprad plains those 700 vertical metres by ten o'clock! It might sound cliched, but the views from Sedlo pod Ostrva took my breath away just as effectively as the climb to reach it had done. And when that breath finally returned to my body, I had the immense pleasure of following a belvedere path that contoured across the southern slopes of some of the highest of the High Tatras - slopes that dropped virtually unbroken almost 2000m from peak to plain.
Yet when I reached the lake of Batizovské Pleso - the same body of water hidden amongst the clouds that had reputedly hidden a dragon's den, according to that friendly Slovak hiker - I had to admit that maybe, just maybe, it had lost some of its allure under sunny skies. Don't get me wrong, the lake and its attendant ring of mountains was beautiful; but some of the magic seemed to have escaped with the clouds, and upon closer inspection there was no way a dragon could have taken up residence. I would just have to search for it elsewhere.
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Home and Away
Bob Carlsen
My wife's grandparents are from that area.
We plan to visit next year...but not hiking!