Break ups are universally understood to be confusing, infuriating, depressing and often disorientating. Questions often go unanswered about why there was a change, how there was a change or even when the change occurred. Most people would have experienced the numbness this implosion of emotions creates at some point in their life. The first step of an unexpected breakup begins before the penny even drops. With no knowledge of the pending doom that awaits, the relationship is seen as an impenetrable fortress of enjoyment, laughter, beauty and simplicity. This denial of vulnerability makes it even more difficult to look at the walls as they begin to crumble from the inside. We think back to the moment we dropped our drawbridge and allowed the wooden horse of pure happiness into our hearts. From there, we rue the darkness we allowed to slip over our euphoric eyes that created a smokescreen for the red flags to run rampant and hack away, unquestioned, at our nirvana from within. In this case, the Nirvana I speak of, isn’t a relationship with someone, but a relationship with somewhere.
Almost Four years to the day since meeting a side of Asia I wanted to uproot my life for, I found myself running to escape as the heaven it created rapidly perished within my mind. It was a swift process brought on by events out of my control at the time, but like ripping off a band-aid it was best not to dwell too long. Briefly, I reflected on the life I lived, the experiences I’d shared and the lives I’d changed. I remembered the times I felt I’d never leave the land of smiles (Thailand), the land of diversity (India), the land of the Blue dragon (Vietnam) or the land of a million elephants (Laos). The idea of living somewhere that wasn’t so simple became inconceivable at times. I had resigned myself to the idea that I may not be able to return to a life outside of the happiness those countries brought me. But just as quickly as Asia captured me it began to be taken away. As I watched a good friend of mine lead a group that was supposed to be mine, I realised that this wasn’t going to be an easy breakup. It’s not just goodbye to the job, its goodbye to the people. It’s goodbye to the friends. It’s goodbye to the streets. It’s goodbye to the food. It’s goodbye to the bars. It’s goodbye to the language. It’s goodbye to the customs. It’s goodbye to the culture. But as I found out as soon as I left Asia, it’s goodbye to the confidence that comes with comfortability. So once again I found myself lacking direction and needing something new to take my mind off the missing. Some people dye or cut their hair, others move to a new house or town. The point is that most people tend to change something about themselves or surroundings when a big change occurs. Breaking up with Asia had me looking for something different. I booked a flight online and four days later I was flying to the other side of the world for my something different. I traded the hot for the cold, the sweat for a shiver, the singlet for a coat and the beach for the snow in search of my rebound from Asia.
Every rough breakup needs the support of good friends and I felt no different. For years I had shot bullets of banter at my English friends about the cold, grey, little island that they held onto after once ruling so much of the world. That little island turned out to be where I felt I needed to be. On that island were some of my oldest friends, waiting with open arms to reconnect to a brotherhood created well over a decade ago. Anecdotes of who I was before my oriental sweetheart that I called home were a perfect antidote to the poison of self-doubt running through my mind. Old friends, new friends and ex-travellers turned friends combined to extract the disappointment and show me the opportunity at hand. They opened my eyes to the chance I now had to explore places id never considered without rushing to a deadline or being pulled away for another person’s purpose. I was on my own schedule for the first time in over 4 years. It was then that I found the Southern Polish city of Krakow. Changes were made hastily like in most breakups. Although aware of what the climate was like where I was going, I hadn’t prepared for sub zero temperatures and snow. Glances from locals as I walked around in a light hoodie, holey shoes and a snapback cap told me I was very much not in Bangkok anymore. This was a new kind of confidante introducing itself with a cold sting to my face and cobbled streets undertoe. The introduction was swift, fiery and forgettable. In other words I bonded with Krakow the way the locals do, with vodka and beer. It impressed with its big city walls and extravagant gothic architecture, but it was this city vibe that had me understanding that Krakow was not to become my new mistress. It turns out that Krakow was my gateway to her.
A comfortable 2 ½ hour bus ride south, climbing through the hills of Poland brought the natural Slovakian border to me in the shape of the Tatra Mountains. A 785 square kilometre range, reaching up 2,655m above sea level at its highest point. Ridged rocks forming snow-capped mountains surrounded the bus on both sides as I got my first look at the Polish mountain getaway town of Zakopane. The cold, stone buildings of Krakow that hold so many stories and city secrets within were replaced by warm, stereotypical, wooden, European lodges scattered throughout thick forestry, under a fresh layer of powdered snow. The warmth spreads from its lodges into its soul and creates an ambience of frivolity. Squeals of excitement follow parents as they pull their young children through the quiet streets on wooden and plastic sleds of all colours. The crunch of snow accompanies every step to one of the small country style pubs. The pubs of Zakopane look quiet and sleepy until you push the heavy wooden doors open that lead to the sound of adults celebrating the end of a good day on the slopes, whether by ski or by board. The vodka flows and the vocals chords are loosened as many sing songs in their local tongue. Hearty, hot meals of schnitzel, stroganoff and soups are served thick and fast to line the stomach allowing for evenings to continue late into the night. Zakopane offered my head and my heart a peaceful pleasure only nature can provide. This was the “different” I was looking for. The Tatra mountains were quiet enough for me to feel comfortable but happening enough to appreciate what it has to offer. I can’t say I got used to the cold or the multiple layers of clothing restricting my movement, but I had found a happiness in myself blossoming from the roots of the Tatra mountains.
The thrill of a new found paramore brings an essence of exploration that needs to be satisfied. A cable car rising high above Zakopane takes people to the peak of Mount Kasprowy, reaching a height of 1987m above sea level. Over the 15-minute journey panoramic views over the southern plains and ranges of Poland treat your eyes to a feast of what can only be described as a frozen fantasy. The first views of Slovakia from above await explorers at the top. An avalanche of accomplishment and pride swells the body when you can defy borders and look across the land. With Poland on the left and Slovakia on the right you realise that borders are a human invention. We are all part of one world. It would only be fitting to descend the mountain and continue south into Slovakia. A small bridge crossing a calm, slow flowing creek took me to a bus stop with a very irregular schedule. I found myself sitting in the snow for over an hour until a man named Peter offered me a ride to my next destination. The kindness of this Polish sherper started my Slovakian journey the right way. I couldn’t be more grateful for his contribution to my travels as my body thawed in his heated hatchback. An appreciation for the mountains and now the people gave me a fresh lease on life, boosting that confidence that I felt had crashed weeks prior. It set me up to be in the right headspace when I stumbled on to my next destination.
The town of Zdair sits a mere 10-minute drive from the Polish border yet is much more relaxed and scattered in terms of population and buildings than the touristy town of Zakopane. Home to a church, a gas station and multiple restaurants, Zdair can’t be classed as anything more than a village. Behind the church sits a two storey, wooden house with a veranda out the front and a rainbow of colours decorating its exterior walls. This is where I was greeted into Hostelworld’s “Best hostel in Slovakia” by an old rescue dog called Wally. The Ginger Monkey hostel isn’t short of accolades from multiple travel websites over many years and it’s easy to understand why. Cleanliness, organisation and comfort are of paramount priority to staff but what makes it so homely are the people within. An instant communal feel brings a cosiness that relaxes the heartrate, eases the anxiety and calms the nerves of a new arrival. This is a place where everyone enjoys the company of each other. Events like pub quiz night and food challenges along with movie night and Slovakian dinners bond the group of misfits, from as far as Finland to Australia, together. Board games, instruments, sleds and snow apparel keep everyone bonding and resenting the fact that one day they will have to leave and say goodbye to The Ginger Monkey, Wally and its human inhabitants. Expert local knowledge places the cherry on top of a place that instantly feels like home. Although tranquil the location isn’t shy of things to do to keep people busy, so for me it was a perfect place to dig in and set up camp.
I’d spent a week depriving myself of a day of snowboarding in my attempts to protect my dodgy knees from possible destruction, but I couldn’t contain myself forever. It was inevitable that I would head up the mountain and risk further damage for the thrill of flying down the soft, white slopes. Shuttles pick up boarders and skiers from Zdair for free and hiring equipment is no more than 15USD per day. I thought this was a great bargain, but the biggest bargain was yet to come. A day pass at Bachledka cost me $28USD. All up i paid half the price of a day pass to an Australian ski resort and I had transport, rental and my lift pass all covered. I picked a perfect day for my first international snowboarding experience. A bright blue sky shone above as I followed an English couple called Ben and Steph out of the hostel. They were just another example of the likeminded people the ginger monkey attracts. After inviting me along with them we got to know each other between runs and began to compare what we had experienced in other resorts compared to Slovakia. The use of a cable car to reach the top of the mountain was foreign to me having only ever used chair lifts and T-bars previously. The biggest difference on the slopes from what I had experienced in Australia was the level of expertise of everyone on the mountain. I was used to avoiding people who had fallen over or who were learning to perfect their chosen specialty. It was as if everyone at Bachledka had ski jumped out of the womb when they were born. They were all naturals regardless of age. The pace of both the skiers and boarders of Slovakia was very impressive. The crackle of skis on snow quickly approaching from behind became a common sound heard on both sides of me. Eventually this would be a sound I’d hear in dreams that followed as I slept like a log as was always the case after a day of snowboarding back home.
Through comfort, adventure and change, The Tatra Mountains nursed my broken heart, left by the absence of Asia, back to good health. An unforgettable connection that lasted 2 weeks provided me the confidence in myself and the world around me to remember that life has it’s ups and downs like the mountains themselves, but there is a wealth of beauty to be seen. Like most human rebounds it didnt't last forever, but it will forever have a special place in my heart for its ability to pull me back to my feet when times were tough. Zakopane, Zdair and the Ginger Monkey reminded me that the world still spins tomorrow, so rather than drop your head and fall behind its best to lift your chin, puff out your chest and face the next day as a new adventure.