

Wrong Way to the Czech Republic
Zakopane, Poland
Riverbanks are at their edges, cellars are flooded, and the roof of this wooden home is leaking in one of the guestrooms. It's been raining nonstop for days, and this afternoon, on our final day in town, we've finally seen some sun through the overcast sky.
I took the opportunity to take a relaxing walk into town and hammer out our transport options for tomorrow morning. I'd been walking around in the absolute warmest gear I have for the past two days: Thick hiking socks, shoes, pants, sweater, fleece pullover, rain jacket, fleece sock hat, and a lit pipe. This is perfect pipe weather—ashame I'm the only one walking around smoking one.
I've been debating on where our next destination should be since we arrived, giving much thought to the Czech Republic. I want to see this country, but don't have any desire to see Prague or just a single town alongside the triple border with Poland and Slovakia.
FYI: Czechoslovakia was the former country in central Europe that was divided into the Czech Republic and the Slovak Republic, or Slovakia, on January 1, 1993.
The sad truth is that you can't see everything, and the Czech Republic is simply in the wrong direction. This country will have to wait for another time, which is easily reached with inexpensive flights dumping into Prague hourly. It's best to do it more properly in the future, than to spend a bunch of money on transport just to say I've been there.
South, though the Tatra Mountains we'll go, into Slovakia. From the northern hub city of Poprad we'll jump on a train and go to Košice.
I've no idea what's in this town, I'm picking it at random. Without any Internet connection since we left Kraków, I'm just taking a shot in the dark here. Let's see if it pans out.
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hikari
December 18th, 2008
hi! your the only person that i saw that has an entry stamp to poland. and in the picture you have of it, it had your date of entry and the number 67.
do you know what 67 means?
Craig | travelvice.com
December 18th, 2008
Good question — If I was to venture a guess, it'd be that it has something to do with the agent who stamped me.