Over the weekend, we set off once again to visit the Špičák hacienda owned by the Kroft family, currently burried under a meter-high layer of fresh snow. A modest combination of five souls turned out to be just perfect - the weekend was totally peaceful, we stuffed our stomachs full of Indian curry, excellent pasta bake and other delicacies, we voluntarily suffered through a range of insufferable TV hits led by the The Little Big Man aka Dustin Hoffman, and we even went for a walk to see the Black Lake. We did not ski much, but that didn't seem to bother anyone. Only on Sunday, it wasn't at all easy to force ourselves to get up and leave the quiet oasis where time seemed to stop, and trade it for the big city where silence is a thing to be desired, fresh mountain air remains a distant memory, and snow turns into dirty slush the moment it touches down. And one has to work.
improvizovaná sladká tečka...
indické curry, courtesy of Patak's
zasněžené smrky v šálku čaje
Spicak pod snehem |
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