You never know what you might find at the end of a quick evening romp up to 2900 m.
As he is typing this Cranky is listening to the monks of St. Bernard chanting joyfully. They have been inhabiting this hospice at 2400 m for some 1000 years blessing the alpine environs with their community service. The plague, Napoleon, his troops including elephant, and the world wars have come and gone and still the monks are chanting and petting the thick fur of the St. Bernard’s.
Gusty winds and sleet are a jolting reminder to pack extra gloves and socks for our alpine excursions. A little sleet can’t wipe the smile off of this mountain girl’s face.
No finer way to heed the call of the High Tatra than to board a train and roll by countless station agents nodding in approval of this mission to scale as many peaks and passes as will fit into six days.
Look closely and you’ll see the RMS Queen Mary 2 in the background …
Awkward name, amazing exhibit.
“I cross out words so you will see them more. The fact that they are obscured makes you want to read them. “
(c) Jean-Michel Basquiat
You are seeing all the pews. 
