In search of the deep, white, fluffy stuff and Santa's little helper!!

This time last year, I had taken August to Zakopane in Poland to visit the Tatra mountains and experience proper “deep” snow. We enjoyed it so much that we were keen to return again this year. Flights into Krakow weren't that cheap, and as I was trying to minimise the amount of time August would need to be out of school for, the schedule flying into Krakow and heading to Zakopane wasn't looking that favourable.

But Slovakia borders the Tatra mountains to the South and so to fly into Kosice would give us an opportunity to see somewhere new. Flights into Kosice from Luton with Wizz air were incredibly cheap, I think it worked out to about 23 pounds return per person. Some investigations let us to plan to stay in the High Tatras and it seemed fairly straight forward and cost effective to reach them taking a train from Kosice to Poprad and another train then up the mountains.

Upon arrival at Kosice Border patrol, I had a rude awakening with the amount of travel I've been doing lately, and another manifestation of the ridiculousness of the Brexshiit's aftermath, when I was held up at passport control for about 20 minutes whilst the overly zealous border guard leafed through my passport, which is now almost full, with still six years of validity left on it, trying to calculate the amount of days that I had spent in Schengen countries in the last six months. Oopsie, it hadn't occurred to me that this stupid rule might come to bite me in the ass at some point in time. Luckily his calculations confirmed that I was good to enter. Because we had arrived so late at night into Kosice airport, it wasn't going to be viable to head up to the Tatras that night. Therefore I had booked into a hostel in the city centre of Kosice, a short walk from the railway station, ready for our train in the morning, which we haven't booked in advance, but they seemed pretty regular.

The Vodna 1 guest house had advised us that the best way to get to the Hostal would be to either take a bus, which probably wouldn't be running at that time of night or to use the Bolt app. This was a great piece of advice, and even though she had advised it would cost in the region of 20 euros, our quick trip into town cost us in the region of six euros. An absolute bargain! everything ran smoothly, and we arrived at the Vodna hostel after about 20 minutes. This was August 1st taste of a youth hostel.

I’d definitely stay there again, it seemed to be in a nice central location within the Old Town, check in was smooth and efficient even though it was out of hours and the place was spotlessly clean. A quick Google identified some potential problem with the train the next day. Trains seemed to be running to Poprad from Kosice in the early morning, but then the trains later in the day seemed to have been replaced with bus services. Keen to take the train, because it is generally a nice way to travel with kids, I decided that we would get up early and catch the 917 train.

I was taken aback when the fare for the two hour journey came to 5 euros. August would travel for free. Amazing. It was a very scenic journey, and we enjoyed playing card games and talking about what we could see after the window and the journey passed quickly. Arriving into Poprad, again a very easy connection onto the line that would take as up to Stary Smokovec to then change and head in the direction of Tatranska Lomnica. This journey cost the princely sum of €1.50. Again August travelled for free.

As we climbed higher, there was more snow on the ground. When we reached Tatranska Lomnica, August squealed with excitement at the prospect of so much snow on the ground. TBF, so did I. I love proper snow. He couldn’t wait to get off the train and start playing in the deep, white fluffy snow; the order of the day for the weekend. He immediately spotted a place where you could buy ‘snowboards’ aka a cheap bit of plastic shite that would allow him to effectively slide down a hill on snow. He had been badgering me to go ‘snowboarding there, but I was conscious of the potential cost and wastage if he didn’t actually like it. I figured he would be satisfied with the plastic version. I procured a round spinner, super for the larger arse (yours truly) and we made our way slowly, punctuated with much snow play and snowball throwing to our Guesthouse.

It was a delight to see Augs hurl himself again and again into massive snow drifts. This is why we came. I wanted to show him what real snow was like. Snow of the 80s. We don’t get that sort of snow in England anymore, only the brown squoosy mushy type.

Ariving at the picture perfect Penzion Paula, we quickly dumped our bags then headed out to explore.

Google Maps had indicated that the base of the slopes could be reached by an easy walk from Penzion Paula, we followed everyone else that was carrying some sort of slidy device as that seemed a sensible move. We hadn’t reached the slopes when we stopped for a prolonged snow play on a large open space in front of a hotel. Fringed by some rather sharp inclines that had clearly been the subject of much snow compacting, slidy activity. August had no fear (halleluiah) as he climbed then hurtled down the steep slopes, on his bum, belly, standing up…. He would have stood on his head if he could!

It reminded me how important it is to every now and again view things from a child’s perspective, we get so caught up in adulting…. And …. Yawn…. How boring that is…. And how blissful childhood is. So I joined him, abandoning any form of self-consciousness, and hurtled down the hill after him, enjoying myself immensely.

I was keen for our trip not to rest solely on this hillock and so we headed onwards up the hill to the slopes. Damn! – the cable cars up the mountain were closed due to maintenance. I hadn’t foreseen this. I would have to get my thinking cap on for a creative elf seeking alternative for Santa letter excursion (see last year’s Zakopane post). We passed a few hours on the base slope with a few injuries in the true spirit of the ski wanker. In fact, poor old Augs got run over by a girl on a sledge, bit of a bottom clenching moment that one. Why didn’t she turn, he cried! Probably because she has about as much control of her ride as the rest of us….

After our extremities started to feel really cold, we headed to a food kiosk to warm up, which meant eating Pierogi, drinking hot wine (for me) and hot chocolate (for Augs).

The guesthouse was so close to the slopes and was a short walk home. I had chosen this on account of August's developed penchant for ‘hot tubs’ after last year’s trip to Zakopane, and was pleased we got a spot to warm our bones before dinner was served. A three-course meal at our guest house for two for cost us 25 euros. I had no clue what we were going to be served but it was all delish! In fact, all of the food we ate in Slovakia was – less stodgy, and a greater range of flavours that some of the other countries in the region.

On a mission to continue with the legacy I had started last year, I was determined to climb the mountain further. The cable cars were only closed from Tatranska Lomnica.There seemed to be a funicular from Stary Smokovec, so we headed back there on the train – 1 euro. August free. Stary Smokovec was a beautiful town with gorgeous ornate buildings, so we explored a little and procured some new, very costly gloves for the dude as his other ones had disintegrated the previous day.

It cost 13 euros up to Hrebienok on the funicular. Not a lot at the top and definitely no elves. Boo! However, the scenery was stunning. But August wasn’t there for the views. He was on a snowboarding mission which actually turned into mummy the husky running at top speed down the mountain pulling August behind who was sat on/ clinging on for dear life to his snowboard. We had such fun, and it was absolutely magical.

August started to complain about being cold. No wonder. His constant immersion in the snow (his choice not mine) had caused his clothes to freeze. We needed to thaw out, so we ducked into the very cosy and festive restaurant Spitz. Amazing grub, amazing service. Suitably thawed we headed back on the train to Lomnica and once again hit the slopes.

In true micro adventure style, the next morning we were headed home. We left our winter wonderland and headed on the train back down the mountain to Poprad, not realising until we got to the bottom how much snow had actually fallen over the last few days – A lot!

We were headed to Aqualand – a thermal springs water park in Poprad, hoping it offered a similar experience to the one in Zakopane. 23 Euros for my admission, August was a euro. A little disappointed really even though the outdoor thermal pools were lovely. No hot tubs except one containing some canoodling youths (did I just say that word??? Making me even less inclined to try the waters of the sex soup) and half the pools were closed. However, it would be the most amazing place to visit in the summer. Just seemed odd there wasn’t a price adjustment given half the facility was closed.

I figured a 3.30pm train would get us to Kosice in good time to have a good look around. The glimpse of the city we had on the first night had whet my appetite. This is where things started to not go so smoothly. Huge train delays due to bad weather. Thankfully our intended wasn’t delayed too badly and I had left a good buffer. Enough to enjoy a quick walk around Kosice and to decide I would definitely like to come back, before eating and taking a Bolt to the airport.

The airport was quiet. Cue the departure boards. Wizz Air flight WS114 to Luton – Cancelled. Oh. But underneath was Wizz Air WS114 to Luton – Delayed. Confused. No Wizz air staff anywhere to be seen. A few other passengers started to show up. All with conflicting stories. All similarly confused. We waited. Finally, some Ryanair ground staff showed up. It transpired that yesterday’s flight had been cancelled and the flight that was delayed was to serve those on the cancelled flight from the previous day. The guy from Ryanair established that this flight was due to depart probably 10% full and tried his hardest to get us transferred over, but a lengthy discussion with UK Border force ensued and because of a potential security breach in the passenger manifest it was a ‘no’ (computer says so).

Cutting what seemed like an age of attempted decision making short….

I was just trying to reach a decision as quickly as I could about whether we:

· Attempt to fly out of Budapest, Poprad or Bratislava on another flight asap

· Fly the next day with Ryanair from Kosice but into Stanstead and then must figure out how to get to Luton to pick up the car

· or awaits a Kosice to Luton flight that wouldn't depart for another two days

It was hard to know what to do for the best. Mummy organiser kicked in and my primary objective was to get the little man to sleep, so quickly hopped on to booking.com and booked the cheapest place closest to the airport. We also booked the flight the next day from Kosice into Stanstead. If we could just get back to the UK that would be great.

I was holding it together pretty well despite the generous helping of judgement from A.N. Other over August’s late night (2/365 boo hoo). I was more concerned for the crying Slovakian lady, who had the same heart wrenching sense of guilt over the potential wrath of her ex if she didn't get home in time to pick up her young son. I can absolutely empathise with how she was living her life treading on eggshells the fear of rocking the boat. I could see and feel the pain. She had brain fog over what the right decision should be for her and so I tried to help her as much as possible in rationalising what would be her possible courses of action.

As we had reached our decision, she said that she was going to spend the night at the airport, and that's when I offered up our spare bed at the White Coral Club (name choice intriguing and not at all reflective of the product) . In fact, there wasn't a spare bed, I booked a room that was big enough for the three of us just because I couldn't bear seeing her on her own so upset and wanted to do something to help. So, we got in a Bolt to the accommodation. She chatted with the taxi driver who seemed to inform her that we were being taken to a rather gritty area of Kosice, and upon arrival to a place that didn't really seem like a hotel, the predictions appeared to be true on face value. However, the place was clean, we were an element of curiosity, but everyone was very friendly and pleasant. I think it may have doubled as a homeless shelter or one for people with learning disabilities and there were a lot of long stay residents there. But we encountered no problems and in fact some of the kindest hospitality ever as the owner, or manager not sure what he was apart from somebody who liked to wear his dressing gown rather loosely and seemingly with nothing underneath, and I feared I'd get an eyeful of his old man (again, did I just use that turn of phrase? What is happening to me?!) hanging out, but nevertheless he raided his own fridge to make up a slap-up breakfast and extended very kind hospitality at a time when we really needed it. So, 10 out of 10 for that place. I didn't get a lot of sleep, the taxi drivers words playing on my mind, so I lay with my arms around August protecting my baby boy just in case.

I needn’t have worried and should have slept better. August got a stonking night sleep, and we woke reasonably refreshed to our slap up breakfast and then took a taxi back to the airport. Everything was looking good, and we departed pretty much on time. Upon arrival at Stanstead, we managed to hot foot it to the 2:00 o'clock National Express coach across to Luton. Things finally seemed to be picking up back to our car about 5:00 PM and were safely tucked up in our beds that evening, a strong lesson learned about the value of true hospitality, never judging a book by its cover and the importance of being kind and helping others 