Day 1 of our 3 day mountain getaway, it’s just barely turned dark outside and the kids are both in bed and one of them is even asleep. That could be the good mountain air, but I doubt it.
It’s been raining most of the day. We arrived before noon, but the lady who manages the place was fine about letting us in early. I was quite surprised that she remembered us from previous visits. Helena brings the kids up to ski in the winter, but I haven’t been here for 3 years (she says it’s two, but I know it’s 3. ) I’ve tried skiing 3 or 4 times in my life but mostly I just spend the day falling down and I’m a firm believer in the old adage “If at first you don’t succeed, try once or twice more, but if it’s still not working, pack it in, life is short and there’s not even enough time to do all the stuff you like and are good at so no point wasting your time on something you suck at and really don’t enjoy much,” so it’s been awhile since I’ve been here.
Harrachov in the Summer
It looks really different in the summer. So much so that I didn’t recognize it, even after we’d pulled into the driveway. It’s the difference between white and green, the difference between a flat blanket of one color and the amazing variety of summer, with the trees and the flowers and the babbling brooks and all of the pretty little cottages.
We went out for lunch and then for a walk in the woods, which the kids protested against vehemently. Maybe we wore them out and that’s why it was easy to get them to bed, but I doubt it. It wasn’t a long walk.
The reason why we get tired when we travel, someone once explained to me, is sensory overload. Since you are in unfamiliar circumstances, even if they are not bizarre or challenging, your brain is working harder than usual to take in and process all the new sights and sounds.
Come to think of it, I’m about ready to turn in myself.
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