Poland's High Tatras

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The train from Prague was modern and travelled at a reasonable pace. Then, suddenly it slowed down dramatically. We notice that the stations were neglected with weeds in the platforms – we have moved into Poland. No sign of a border but we can tell we have changed countries.

At Katowice, we change trains. A few people of many nationalities are trying to find the train to Krakow. Nobody is very sure which platform it will go from, if at all - the electronic signs remain blank. A local helps us out - it is ten minutes late and might arrive at Platform 4, which it duly does. The train, a somewhat older and emptier version of our previous train, is not actually going to Krakow centre we are told, just a suburb. The conductor advises us to get off at the next station and catch a local train to central Krakow - it will arrive in 5 minutes. The next station is in the middle of nowhere and our conductor smiles as his train pulls out, leaving us all on the weedy platform.

But 5 minutes later, a little train going to central Krakow arrives. As we draw in to the city, Saturday night is just starting. The lights are on around the square and music is everywhere. We have a quick dinner and head for bed – it has been a long day.

Next day, we are on the early bus into the mountains so that we have time to hike We have a plan but it is Sunday and half of Poland is in a queue for the mountain chair lift. We quickly make a new plan and head off up another, smaller and quieter mountain on foot. After cities, trains and buses the peace is wonderful. Hills and mountains. Pine trees and pastures. Hidden huts and edelweiss. And goulash soup for lunch. Happiness.

Monday and we are up early again to make the most of the day - rain is forecast for later. We take a little bus to the start of a walk up to the five tarns. This starts with a gentle plod and ends with a near vertical ascent beside a spectacular waterfall to reach the first tarn. We thought that was the top and had lunch, walked west a little and discovered another 200 metre climb to get out of the valley. Great views, though, of mountains big and small and, of course, those five tarns. After a hairy descent, we splash out on a horse-drawn cart ride back to the village bus stop.

Today is Gill's birthday, so a celebratory meal awaits. Tomorrow we hope to take that chair lift, very early before the queues, and then walk down. Then it will be an international bus ride (well, minibus actually) into Slovakia and the south side of the mountains.

And for those still interested, the passports are still unexamined since St Pancras.

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