Final destination for our Poland smorgasboard... the deliciously charming Zakopane. We arrived at our log cabin gasping with delight and awe as we made ourselves at home, instantly collecting wood for the fire, laying out the Polish cheese platter and pouring the red wine. Already reminiscing on the good memories created from our previous destinations, we couldn't be happier with cosy surroundings and the perfect company of our travel buddies and flat mates, Joel and Loz.
Our adventures continued and perhaps epitomised with our epic day on the ski fields. I invite you to imagine the four of us, completely suited up in our snow gear, I myself particularly excited to be wearing my new pants, beanie and gloves. Tim was just as excited however his anticipation came from putting on his familiar and trusty old snow pants, relieved to have them on once again after the long days of snow absence. He wouldn't admit it, but there were almost tears of joy when the rolling, frosty mountains became more than just a backdrop, and were now his play ground.
So, Tim the pro-snowboarder, gazes upon the fields when suddenly his day-dreams (soon to be reality) are interrupted with the sound of a slushing of snow underneath a trudger's foot. He feels a grab on his arm and turns around to see me stumbling through the snow holding a snowboard nearly the size of myself. In true Tim form, he graciously smiles and tells me how cute I look and I excitedly return an oversized grin and squeal I can't wait for him to teach me how to snow board.... it could be a very long day! Slowboarder was soon to be my new nickname, and I was happy to own it as I knew I was far below par. After a good couple of hours of zig-zagging down the beginners slope I begged Tim to go to the top on his own to get a good chance to shred some snow. He unwillingly obliged (not really - I saw right through him and knew he was dying to go) and off he went. This is where the tale takes on a twist. I suddenly was overcome with a monstrous inner ability and determination to tackle this mountain (which, really was too oversized for us to be labelling it "beginners", it was more like a borderline expert mountain - a feat for anyone, little own humble starters like myself).
We all met down the bottom and we were questioning whether to all go to the top, and I (playing it all down, of course) mentioned that I wasn't sure I was ready, but hey I will give it a go! We ascended the overcoming, overwhelming, over-towering mountain of achievement. As I strapped myself in I got up and without a flint of fear began my descent through the fluffy white snow. At this point in time the sun had disappeared and we were snowy under lamps with the view of the whole town lit up in night sky. It was stunning, but it did not distract me from my Mission Impossible assignment, which I chose to accept. There I was going down the almost vertical drop, when suddenly I could hear people behind me as I swooshed past them, "wow, she's doing alright", and then I could hear the cheers and cries of my name (ok, so it was Lauren, Joel and Tim). I quickly earned my official title, Shelley - The Shredder! I did it, with minimal, but not absent stacks - a few crackers I might add - but I conquered it! I'll admit I was probably the slowest boarder the slopes had ever had, however the proud moment was entirely soaked up and we had the biggest laughs that day. We apologise that there are no photos of our skiing/boarder. We were just so busy carving up the snow that it was impossible to take a spare moment!
The next day, I felt like I was dying. Our limbs were hating us for our extreme sport attempts the day before, and our muscles were rebuking and harshly chastising us for the workout we'd given them. But, it did not stop us from our exploring. We rugged up and ventured out into the small touristed town to check out the markets and the shops. The ample stores of sheep skins, snow socks, wooden kitchen wares and fluffy hats kept us intrigued and entertained. We didn't know what was to come. And thank you Jesus that it came.... baked Polish cheese with a serving of cranberry jam on top. Oh my dear! The memory of the smell and taste is instantly recalled when thinking on such sweet times, however it could never be put into words just how wonderful it was. I continue to develop my belief that one of the best components about travel is the journey of the tastebuds. It cannot be separated from the history, the natural beauties discovered, the people met along the way... food is so intrinsically a part of it all, and I wouldn't have it any other way!
It eventually had to end, and to farewell us Poland put on a spectacular snow show with blizzard conditions that Joel had to contend with whilst driving us all to the airport. The entire trip was just unforgettable, each destination offering something unique and wonderfully intriguing. We hope you have loved taking the journey with us, as we truly feel grateful and blessed to have the amazing opportunity to discover, endeavour and grow on this trip!
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