Tags
Central Europe, countryside, road trip, Slovakia, Spania Dolina, UNESCO, Vlkolinec, Weekly Photo Challenge, windows, woods, World Heritage
We left Bratislava and headed northeast toward Vlkolínec, a UNESCO World Heritage village in Slovakia. It was a particularly dreary day, punctuated occasionally by the squeak of the windshield wipers and the raising and then dismissing of other places to stop along the way. Trnava and Banská Bystrica – nahh, too big. The abandoned castle Pustý hrad in Zvolen – meh, tired of castles. How about a Benedictine monastery in Hronský Beňadik? A unique wooden church in Hronsek? Let’s not bother, we yawned.
Stuck in the middle of my trip notes was the name Špania Dolina. Thinking it was an area (dolina means valley) and not a specific town, I had relegated it to last place, so when we finally looked it up and saw it was a picturesque mining village, home to fewer than 200 people on the border of the Veľká Fatra and Low Tatras forest and mountains, we said Bingo.
We exited the main artery and navigated a heavily wooded, winding road up to the village. Pulling into the main square, we saw no signs of morning life. There was a cute bus stop with library books (but no people) inside, a covered stairway leading to an old church on the hill above us, and through the morning mist, we spied a smattering of stone and wood houses above us. We parked the car, grabbed our umbrellas, and tentatively peeked in the windows around the square. Nothing open.
Let’s climb up and look at the church and the views from there, I suggested, but I’m not going up inside those dark steps! (160 of them, said a sign at the bottom.)
We found a lane curving steeply up to the left and in minutes we found ourselves among quaint houses that we later learned were from the 17th and 18th centuries and typical examples of the rustic folk architecture in parts of rural Slovakia. Within view of the newer houses built into a hillside across a small valley, these old wooden homes were lovingly cared for, with decorative windows and neatly tended gardens and flower boxes. We crunched up the gravel road, trying to be quiet in the morning stillness, until we reached the church.
Although J had no interest in peeking inside, I stole up to the door and cracked it open, finding to my complete surprise a congregation in the midst of a murmured prayer. It was Sunday! Oh, that’s why there’s no one out and about. I gently closed the door and rejoined J, and we crept down through the covered stairway to the square, chuckling at our vacation-induced obliviousness and, ultimately, our luck in finding this tiny, authentic place in the middle of the Slovakian countryside.
~ ~ ~
We continued on toward Vlkolínec, which we knew was situated near the bigger town of Ružomberok. We had planned to park in the latter and walk into Vlkolínec, but the rain discouraged us, and we punched the village name into Googlemaps to drive in. We saw a vague sign or two for the village, and got two orders to turn at places where we saw no real roads, so we kept going. Finally, the impatient mapping lady told us to turn where there was a path of sorts, and we obeyed; three minutes later we found ourselves rattling through a meadow full of cows on a track of gravel, destroyed asphalt, and mud.
Cursing my husband (because of course) and GPS inadequacy, I looked for a place to turn around, but there would be none of that. The “road” fell sharply off into pastureland and was barely wide enough for our little rented Audi (which I was now worried about damaging in the 6-inch deep ruts), let alone any oncoming traffic or a turnaround. Four anguished miles and at least twenty minutes later, as the trail became increasingly thin, muddy, and steep, we entered the village of Vlkolínec at its highest point, suddenly confronted by tourists and realizing that we had come in on a bike path and were now driving through a pedestrian village of twenty permanent residents and perhaps twice that many visitors on foot. Oops.
Embarrassed and apologetic, we steered our way slowly down through the village to the parking lot, where our punishment was a drenching downpour the minute we opened the car doors. In spite of the ignominious entrance and wet welcome, we took our time wandering this place out of time. Like Spania Dolina, Vlkolínec contained the wooden houses endemic to this part of forested Slovakia, but here the entire village had been preserved as if in a state of suspended life. These residents weren’t in church; they were probably hiding in the six enchanting log houses the villagers themselves still owned while we interlopers roamed their streets and snapped photo after photo of their water wheels, charmingly composed window vignettes, and wooden totems.
UNESCO’s synthesis of the town’s World Heritage designation notes its roots in the 10th century, its first records from the 14th, and the 55 or so remarkably intact homes of original folk architecture, primarily built in the 19th century. It felt a little as if Vlkolínec were not quite real as we drifted through its streets, but it was still the best kind of tourist spot, an understated place where the visitors were respectful and courteous, perhaps because most seemed to be fairly local themselves. There were families with dogs, couples huddled under ponchos, and intrepid hikers who braved deep grooves of mud to view the farm buildings and terraced fields on the edge of the unpretentious village. We didn’t hear a single word of English.
Back in the car, we felt we had just left the pages of two fairy tales, set in the big dark woods and replete with old stories of elves who helped the miners in Špania Dolina and the solemn but folksy wood figures that watched over Vlkolínec. It was a perfect way to spend a rainy day, and we felt lucky to have been offered a fleeting window into the Slovakian rural life tucked away in this wild and rugged countryside.
leggypeggy said:
What glorious finds. But I had to laugh at your entrance by bike path.
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lexklein said:
We felt pretty stupid! But we swear the signage was terrible!
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J.D. Riso said:
I’m surprised no one barked at you for driving up that bike path. I remember the woman at the ticket booth in Vlkolinec as being particularly surly. A perfect way to spend a rainy day indeed!
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lexklein said:
The only person who really saw us on that path (at the complete opposite end of the village from the ticket stand) was an old lady with two milk pails. We stopped and smiled at her, showing her the name of the village on my phone and pointing ahead questioningly. She nodded gravely, but with no anger (or even surprise!) and on we went. I just felt like an idiot driving down to the ticket place and the parking lot; there were absolutely no other cars inside the village!
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Bama said:
I can imagine the confusion among the locals and those tourists when they saw a car emerged from a bike path! At least the locals now have one more story to tell their kids. 🙂 Speaking of the lack of people you saw, I remember what my uncle said to me on our trip to Germany. “I see a lot of cars but no people!” he said. Coming from the world’s fourth most populous country the scene of streets devoid of people was really bizarre.
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lexklein said:
Oh yes, I bet some of these small towns would feel like ghost towns to you! We did get a few strange looks as we crept down through the town, but for the most part, everyone just went about their business. (Thank goodness!)
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Liesbet said:
Those two towns look very charming and authentic. I would love to stroll around them, despite the rain. That kind of weather just added a bit of mystery to the photos and probably kept the brunt of tourists at bay.
Don’t you hate it when you get on a road/trail like that by car and there is no turning around? It feels adventurous at first, but after miles of it, some kind of desperation sets in. And worry about the rental! I’m glad you eventually reached the destination you were loooking for, albeit on four wheels instead of two. 🙂
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lexklein said:
First of all, I agree (begrudgingly) that the gray skies added some nice moodiness to the village visits, and I’m quite sure Vlkolinec at least would have been busier in fine weather.
Your description of my feelings on that path is exactly right! First I laughed, then I got crabby, then I got worried, then I got that desperate feeling of wondering when on earth we’d be done with it, and then it swung right back through worry, crankiness, and finally laughter again!
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Cecilia said:
Your photos really capture the mood of that village, great!
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lexklein said:
Thanks! I always feel discouraged when taking rainy day photos, but they often end up capturing more of a mood than a bright sunny day allows.
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Alison and Don said:
Wow Lexie, what an amazing day. I love the way you describe it all, drawing me in until I almost felt like I was there. I love your entrance into Vlkolínec. I would definitely like to go to both villages. Too bad about the weather 😦 but you have to take what you can get eh?
Alison
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lexklein said:
You would love both places, Allison. The first felt like we’d happened upon a ghost town (albeit a darling, well-kept one!) and Vlkolinec was just so interesting historically and aesthetically. I insisted on keeping a nice chunk of days in Slovakia in our schedule even though it was the least known country of our trip, and I’m so glad I did. Our epic hike in the High Tatras is my next post (I think) – another really great day in Slovakia.
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Dave Ply said:
The locals gave you something to talk about, and you gave the locals something to talk about…
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lexklein said:
A perfect cultural exchange!
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thirdeyemom said:
How beautiful! It reminds me a bit of what I saw in Romania. Love all the photos! Looks like a great adventure Lexi!
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lexklein said:
It was a fun, informative, relaxing road trip – even better than I’d hoped for. Romania is on my list – I still remember all your nice posts!
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thirdeyemom said:
looking forward to more!
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thirdeyemom said:
Love also how you ended up on the bike path! That has happened to us too! Such a great story!
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lexklein said:
The clueless tourists! It was good for a laugh after the fact, but was not quite as amusing in progress!
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thirdeyemom said:
I love these stories though. That is what makes the trip so incredibly memorable. Walking in on a church service in a tiny town, driving down a bike path…it all is great! 🙂
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lexklein said:
I totally agree!
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Curt Mekemson said:
The detour is pretty funny, Lexi, it sounded rough even for a bike path. And I can see the older woman thinking here comes more tourists misled by their GPS. We use GPS (who doesn’t?) but I always make sure we have old fashioned maps along! Sounds like it turned into a great adventure however and a lovely, non-touristy town. –Curt
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lexklein said:
The sad thing, Curt, is that we HAD old-fashioned maps along! That place was just so teeny that there was no way to find the actual road in, let alone identify that we were on a path of some sort. Very fun story in retrospect!
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Curt Mekemson said:
Got it Lexi. 🙂 My brother-in-law has traveled extensively through Europe using GPS and has some wonderful stories to tell. I’ve ended up on a few ‘short cuts’ myself. –Curt
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LDG luciledegodoy said:
It’s been a while since I’ve visited a place that was still untouched by crowds of tourists and not contaminated by selfie sticks. You found them! And both entries in the villages were epic. I’m still laughing also because I totally related to it. We just came back from a week in Mallorca and got a car rental to go around the island at our own pace but also to avoid the touristic places. Not once, but countless times, that GPS lady sent us to a bike path, a farm road, and also to the wrong direction. We got so used to that and quickly learned that her understanding or right or left was exactly the opposite or reality. We sometimes went back to paper maps.
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lexklein said:
I really thought most GPS systems had finally worked out some of these kinks! Other than this silly routing, we had no problems most of the time in Europe and I rarely encounter crazy directions here in the U.S. anymore. (Nevertheless, there are still a few glitches, one of which covers a major loop highway here in Houston, so I make it my business to always have a general idea of where I’m going.) I love maps anyway, so GPS will never take their place entirely!
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awtytravels said:
I love these names, I can only imagine how well I’d mispronounce them… I can’t help but wonder how Vlkolínec would look on a nice autumn day, maybe with some fog rolling in and not a soul around…
As for driving up the bike path and down the pedestrian road: it goes with having an Audi. Don’t know about elsewhere, but in Italy and UK Audi drivers tend to be the ones that tailgate you on the fast lane, drive in the pedestrian-only roads, park on the zebra crossing and generally toss the highway code down the rubbish bin. I hear it’s because of the air conditioning! 😉 (just kidding)
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lexklein said:
I loved all the names and words on this trip, too. We pronounced them however we felt like, and I’m sure every one of them was wrong. Luck (or not?) of the draw on the Audi – I booked the cheapest car I could find that was not miniature-sized, and this is what I got. I was a very efficient and polite left lane user, but as we all know, I am 100% guilty of driving in both bike and pedestrian zones!
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Dina said:
Lovely entertaining post! 🙂
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lexklein said:
Thank you, Dina! It was such a fun trip, it was easy to write about!
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AndysWorldJourneys said:
they really are adorable looking places. Looks like a wonderful area to hike!
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lexklein said:
From what I remember, you have been to the High Tatras … did you get a chance to hike there?
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twobrownfeet said:
Sounds like a fun trip! 🙂 I’m not sure if I’d venture into the dark entrance of the church. Churches like these spook me. The town looks quaint and it would be nice to walk around and explore.
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lexklein said:
I was a little creeped out by the very dark covered stairway when we arrived, but as soon as I walked all around and was ready to come back down to the center of town, it didn’t seem quite so intimidating! (It was still dark enough that we had to use our phones for light, though!)
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shoreacres said:
Now, that’s my kind of day! I love the atmospherics that nature provided, and the story about arriving by bike path is just hilarious. Well, at least it is now. I still remember driving up the California coast, getting into the Lost Coast territory, and suddenly realizing I was on a logging road that was getting very, very narrow, with truly precipitous dropoffs. Then — over a hill, and there was the Pacific spread out in all its glory — and a widening road. I suspect my relief was akin to yours.
Your description of the village and the woman with the milk pails somehow reminded me of my childhood, when the Swedish, Croatian, and Italian women would sit and do handwork together. All of them had come from such villages, and all of them still spoke their languages, and carried on their customs. That’s fading for us now, I fear.
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lexklein said:
Judging by your affinity for out-of-the-way places, you would have indeed loved this day of slowly poking around a few small villages deep in the woods of Slovakia. Funny you should mention her – the woman with the milk pails reminded me of some of the little old ladies from my own childhood, too! Many of the people on this trip brought back memories of certain old world “types” I grew up around in western Pennsylvania. I felt it most strongly in the Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Hungary, and that makes sense because that’s where many of my childhood friends’ families were originally from. I found them so “foreign” back then, and it was strange to be in their place years later, seeing the last names, food types, and even physical features that were familiar yet long-erased from my current life.
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Madhu said:
Such an evocative narrative Lex. And atmospheric photos. Walking in on the church service must have been a high point. With our navigational skills, I can see R and i making our grand and embarrassing entry through that bike road 🙂 I would love to do this someday (the exploring small villages of this region, not the bike road entry!)
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lexklein said:
Thanks, Madhu. You may end up doing the latter when trying to find the cute little villages to explore! 🙂 This was our first time in Slovakia and I was so taken by it all, from the incredible mountains and forests to the small villages and even the medium-sized cities in between.
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CompassAndCamera said:
Hilarious! What a grand entrance!
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lexklein said:
Haha – except for the fact that we wanted to be very small, shrinking down in our seats to avoid the stares of all the other visitors! Quite funny after the fact, though!
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Manja Mexi Movie said:
Sweet story and images. ❤
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lexklein said:
Thank you! It was an excellent day in both places.
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