June 17, 2005 |
The Medieval town of Levoca |
| When I reached Levoca, my intuition told me that this was a place to linger for a "long" time and this is what I have been doing. Have been enjoying blissful sunny days in Levoca. Am spending time gratifying myself in a thousand little ways. Am contracting some unusual habits. In the morning, I savour a huge sweet pastry with my morning "Turkish" coffee. I guess at one time, the Turks came all the way here! Then, later, I treat myself to my daily ice cream. Finally, I sip a well deserved local beer at dusk before eating a "pantagruelic" meal. What a life... |
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Everything is cheaper here. You can have a complete dinner with starter,
main course, drinks and dessert for less than 10 dollars. Yesterday, I had
grilled trout with wild mushrooms and roast parsleyed potatoes. A truly
gourmet dish!
No more crowded hostels here. I am staying with the friendly Dubecky family. The tourist office gave me their address. When I rang the bell, a smiling Slovak lady opened the door. Her son took my pack to my room and her daughter brought me a freshly baked cake, still hot from the oven, as a welcome gift. |
| My quarters are on the other side of the vast garden. On one side a vegetable patch sits behind an enclosure for rabbits and geese. On the other a shady orchard. My prettily furnished room with laced curtains looks on to an old church. I also have my own patch of grass full of blooms where I can soak in the golden sunshine. All this for 10 dollars a night! I share a kitchen and a bathroom with other tenants: three burly Slovaks who are in Levoca to do restoration work on the church across from my room!. Everytime they see me, they grunt as a way to acknowledge my presence and greet me. I must say to their credit that they are beautifully house-trained. They always leave the shared premises spotless after using them! |
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Mrs. Dubecky approached me timidly yesterday. As her 19 year old son was
leaving for Australia shortly to visit relatives, she wanted to know if she
could ask me a few questions. It was such a long trip, so far away. He
would be flying from Vienna. Her questions were refreshingly "naive".
"What would happen to her son's luggage at the Vienna airport?"
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"What about his money, should he put it in his luggage?"
"He was going to stop for a few hours in Dubai. Should he get out of the plane? How would he know which plane to get back on?" I answered in detail, trying to reassure her the best way I could. I gave her a few practical tips and showed her my money belt that I always kept inside my jeans. A few hours later, when I returned to the house, Mrs. Dubecky ran out excitedly and presented me with a splendid money pouch that she had just sewn for her son! |
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| Levoca gives me the feeling that it has not yet crossed the threshold of the 21st century. It is small... 13,000 people live inside its walls. It is a charming Medieval town, entirely surrounded by fortifications. One big supermarket only, beside the bus station, outside the city walls. Otherwise, really small shops, long, deep and dark with a tiny old fashioned window to display the goods, reminiscent of the shops of my childhood. You enter the city through ancient gates. The main square is a gem, with the 15th century church of St James and a festooned city hall with finely chiselled turrets on top. |
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In front of the Gothic Hall, a big tall metallic
structure, the "Cage of Shame" where in the Middle Ages prisoners were
exhibited to the public eye. The church has a unique chime, similar to a
music box melody. It rings on the hour, enhancing the quaint ambiance. All
day long, between the church and the hall, farmers sell fresh fruit and
vegetables.
Levoca is the epitomy of a non-stressful life style. The houses and buildings are lovely to look at, with soft colored painted frescoes as well as ornate windows and statues. The people go about their daily tasks unhurriedly, always with a smile and a greeting in store for you. |
| I have come across many delightful surprises and unexpected sights here. The first evening walking back to the Dubecky's house through a side street, I heard a women's choir singing beautifully. I looked around and saw that the music was coming from the opened window of a Renaissance building. All I could see was the flickering of candle lights. There must have been at least 30 women in there rehearsing. The sound was immensely powerful. The crystal of their voices was so pure that I sat down on the sidewalk to listen to them. |
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Another evening, I decided to pop into St. James church. When I entered, it
was quite dark inside but I could hear the chanting of prayers. I looked
around. On the benches were kneeling many Slovak women, their heads covered
in scarves. One lady was the prayer leader while the others were answering
in unison. The melody of their litany reminded me of Buddhist nuns'
incantations. The atmosphere of perfect serenity and profound piety was
almost palpable. Then a sister came in quietly from the side. She walked
up to the altar and lit a row of tall candles. The moment was magic. The
magnificently carved guilded altar came to life. The naive looking icons
with their hands joined in prayer, were gazing at me, their eyes brimming
with innocent fervour.
The main altar piece of St. James church is very famous. In the central panel, the Virgin Of Levoca which you can also see on the 100 crowns note. |
| This exquisitely carved altar is the work of a Middle Ages craftsman called Master Pavol. I went to see some of his pieces exhibited in the near by museum. A beautifully talented and incredibly prolific artist, he has sculpted a profusion of icons and biblical scenes full of touching naivety. |
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One day, I went to a tiny village, called Dravce, 5 kilometers away. I
arrived at noon. The very hot air smelled of flowers and grass. The
village seemed asleep. Beautiful cottages with gardens brigtened by lupins
and irises. Old farmers sitting on their porches, pretending that they had
not noticed me but looking at
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The door of the Church was closed. He painfully got up, took out a key as rusty as he was and let me
in. It is as if he had been waiting for me. As soon as I exited the
garden, he got on a bicycle and left.
This morning, I woke up early to climb to Marianska Church. Two kilometers up on the hill. Marianska is a famous pligrimage sight in Slovakia. I hiked up through verdant countryside enlivened by bird songs. |
| Rolling fields of tall grass, almost silvery in the sun. Trees swaying in the balmy breeze and a profusion of wild flowers. Nobody was around. It was strange to think that soon at the beginning of July, the place would be thick with pilgrims. The trail was getting steeper and steeper. It quickly turned into the Via Dolorosa for me. I reached the top, totally out of breath and panting like a thirsty dog. I notice a shiny bench in the shade. Without thinking, I just went and sat on it. I felt something sticky on my derriere, jumped up and realized to my dismay that it had been freshly painted. How dumb, not to have put a sign. Would I have understood it? Fresh Paint in Slovak. |
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| Anyway, I saw the culprit. A nun with the arm of the crime still in her hand, further up, on the backwall of the nearby cloister. I decided not to say anything, unwilling to make her feel bad. After all she probably was not expecting anybody to come up there. I walked around the grounds, with my jacket around my waist to hide the stains of paint. Saw the church of rather modern architecture and admired the view, well worth the effort. Levoca looked like a toy village, in the crook of the velvety green valley, bathed in the morning sun. |
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| So this it. Tomorrow, I leave this paradise to go to Bardejov, another historical city before heading to Bratislava, the big city. Today Mrs. Dubecky moved me to more luxurious quarters, far from the grunts of the three burly Slovaks but closer to the orchard and the rabbits. Maybe she did this as a token of appreciation for my tips about traveling by plane. |
| On to Bardejov... |
