The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. The sky was cloudless, the sunlight poured down from every angle, and the green of the landscape was so vivid it felt like nature itself was putting on a show. My boyfriend, Jack, and I set off for an 8-hour hike to the High Tatra Mountains at 8:00am.
For those who don't know, the High Tatras are a hiker’s dream and nature’s masterpiece, where wild mountains meet wild-flower-covered valleys, crystal-clear lakes, and alpine meadows. It’s a soulful adventure that feels like stepping into a postcard.
This was our second time hiking in this mountain range, and I was excited to be surrounded by towering peaks and mountain goats once again.
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| The beginning of a wander in the woods, Ždiar |
The hike began at the forest’s edge, and I could still vividly recall the feeling of that moment, as if it was just yesterday that I started volunteering for the summer at The Ginger Monkey Hostel in Ždiar, a quaint village in Northern Slovakia, a gateway to the Tatras. The warmth of the day wrapped around me, but every now and then, a cool, fresh breeze would sweep across my face, making me feel alive with the pulse of nature. I was ready for this adventure, eager to immerse myself in the sights and sounds of the woods. The ground beneath my feet was soft yet solid, still damp from the morning dew, and the gentle sound of a stream beside me echoed soothingly, like a calming melody. The rest of the forest lay still, as if holding its breath, waiting for me to pass through.
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| The High Tatra Mountains, which border Slovakia and Poland |
As we ascended a very steep, rocky path, I was so focused on the uneven ground beneath me that I didn’t even realise we had left the forest until I paused to catch my breath. The further we climbed, the more our legs ached from the steep incline, but the reward was the purest scenery that unfolded before us.
Below, the shadows of valleys and hidden caves started to take shape, and it wasn’t until I saw this magnificent view that I truly realised how far I had come. Surrounded by endless emerald wilderness, with the sun highlighting every plant, every bird, and even the invisible creatures that called this place home. At that moment, I felt completely in tune with everything around me, as though I was on a sacred pilgrimage, searching for the deeper meaning of it all.
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| Small Cold Valley, High Tatra Mountain Rage, Slovakia |
The hike through the valleys was long and gruelling, but Jack and I powered through, rarely complaining as our adrenaline and determination carried us forward. The higher we climbed, the more people appeared on the trail, which sort of irritated me. We had gotten so used to the solitude, enjoying the quiet majesty of the mountains all to ourselves.
As we came over a hill Kamzik (Alpine Chamois Mountain Goats) appeared. Their sharp eyes locked onto us, observing with an intensity that bordered on fascination, guarding their territory. I didn’t dare step off the path to get closer, worried they might converge on me in a spontaneous frenzy. These goats had striking features, but there was something impulsive in their behaviour that made me hesitant. So, I respected their space and left them to their domain. After all, this was their home, and I was just a guest passing through.
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| Kamzik (Chamois) Goat-Antelope nestled in the grass of the High Tatra Mountains |
It took five long, demanding hours to reach the summit of the Tatras, and by the time we got there, I started to feel strange. Nauseous and completely exhausted, Jack suggested it might be the altitude, and I reluctantly agreed. But we had made it, and the view from the top was nothing short of perfect—every shade of beauty you could imagine.
As we devoured our tuna and mayonnaise sandwiches, gazing out over the dramatic valleys below, I realised I had lost my usual sense of wonder. The food tasted bland, and I was so drained that all I could think about was getting into bed. I wasn’t quite used to this kind of physical exertion, so I assumed I had simply pushed myself too hard. After finishing our food, we decided to take a different route back, hoping for a slightly easier descent.
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| 'The Belá', which runs through the High Tatra Mountains |
As we made our way down, with Jack a little ahead, I began to feel increasingly uneasy. My stomach was bloated, as if I had overeaten, though I hadn’t. I blamed it on the carbs I had scoffed down earlier, plus the altitude sickness kicking in. Then, out of nowhere, I stopped in my tracks. I could feel it coming—a wave of nausea that I couldn’t suppress...
“Nice view,” I thought, as I relieved myself, half-heartedly appreciating the scenery despite the situation. I had wanted to explore and soak in the views, but the energy to appreciate it had slipped away. The change in my mindset made everything seem distant and unimportant.
After being sick, I felt better and, oddly enough, a renewed sense of clarity. I was ready to enjoy the hike again. I turned around, smiled at Jack, and gestured for some water. As he walked toward me, I absentmindedly stared at the mess below, but just as quickly, a wave of exhaustion hit me like a freight train. I felt like I could collapse right there. This wasn’t just tiredness—it was a complete drain of energy. I had no motivation left, yet there was only one way to get back home: I had to force myself down the mountain.
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| The village of Ždiar in the distance |
The walk back down felt like the longest mission of my life. My mind wandered to all sorts of things, even cursing ‘Jeff’ under my breath, the traveller who had brought the sickness bug to the hostel we were living and working at. Despite feeling off, there was a strange sense of contentment, as if the peaceful appreciation I had this morning still lingered, refusing to be overshadowed by my present misery. Trying to embrace the 360-degree view of pure bliss, with no one in sight, my moments of serenity were constantly interrupted as I threw up—again and again, and again. Jack stayed by my side, offering comforting words, but I was so sluggish and miserable that every time I opened my mouth, I thought I was going to be sick.
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| Malá Studená Dolina (Small Cold Valley), High Tatra Mountains |
Everything felt so different now, and I was barely conscious and beyond dehydrated. At one point, I could actually understand Frodo Baggins’ agitation while climbing Mount Doom, swatting away hallucinations, lost in a daze, and having some kind of out-of-body experience. Yes, it sounds ridiculous, but I was in such a foul state that I couldn’t even be bothered to wipe away the sick that was drooling down my chest.
“Why is this taking so long?” and “Water, Harry.” were the only things running through my mind. We still had a couple of hours to go, and my body was already screaming for a bed.
“Oh sh*t!” Jack blurted out.
“Oh, what now… We’re not lost, are we?” I rolled my eyes, irritated.
“We have no more water left.”
Sh*t.
