The big train ride, day 4 - Stary, Stary night…

Time for a change of scenery and a confession of sorts…

Ostrava not, frankly, having an awful lot to detain the curious traveler in search of entertainment, it was time to set off for one of the high points of the trip, Slovakia’s Tatras. Why Slovakia, I hear you ask? Well, the scenery is apparently spectacular, the air is clean and fresh and, as for the trains…

The day got off to a good start as I boarded the Slovak Railways Pendolino to Poprad-Tatry. A welcome glass of Sekt was never going to be turned down, and if I can persuade Greater Anglia to do something similar, my life would be somewhat enhanced. 

The Slovak scenery was rather attractive, and it gave for an easy journey to relax. And, whilst the connection at Poprad-Tatry was an unrelaxing, and unsignposted, seven minutes, I just about made it.

Now, for the confession. I may have mentioned that I am not a train spotter. Whilst I stand by that, I find unusual trains interesting and what the Tatras have is narrow gauge electric railways. And yes, this one was a bit like a tram, but it was certainly different.

Upon arrival at my destination, I took a gentle, if uphill walk to my hotel, the Grand Hotel Stary Smokovec. It’s one of those classic “turn of the last century” places, built for the comfort of the Austro-Hungarian elite. Breathe in that fresh air, take walks in the great outdoors, shoot the wildlife, that sort of thing. The spa looked very inviting, and the terrace, looking out over the plain below, particularly so given the price of beer in Slovakia.

And, apparently, the Queen and Prince Philip had visited the hotel more than a decade ago, something the hotel was rather proud of. I wonder why they were in Slovakia?

Once I’d dropped off my luggage in the room, I took a train to Strbske Pleso, a nearby ski resort with a lake to boat on or promenade around. There’s also a top notch Kempinski hotel, serving the winter sports set. 

Back in Stary Smokovec, beer was drunk in moderation and a club sandwich eaten. I tend to think that a club sandwich is a good test of a hotel kitchen, as it’s quite simple as a concept yet easy to do badly. Fortunately, this was a pretty good club sandwich…