Pibo is a cat who frequents the hot springs looking for love and food. In Dora he found both affection and a ready supply of soy pate, served up on an enamel platter. Pibo lives a life of opulence and doesn’t care for travelling around Europe in a London ambulance. This makes sense, but makes the humans very sad as Pibo is the kind of cat you could imagine waking up to. Farewell Pibo.
Words: Hugo Pullen | Photos: Dora Damian
I awoke from a deep sleep desperately needing to pee, naturally I yielded and padded out of the safety and comfort of the van to the nearest bush to let nature run its course. On returning to the van I noticed a furry shape in the dark… Only four metres away stood a Slovakian brown bear. Heart racing I quickly shut myself back into the van to wake Dora up and opened the front curtains to watch a mother bear and her two cubs rummage through the bins only two metres from the comfort of our bed. Occasionally she cast furtive looks to the van, then back to rummaging to feed her cubs. After tipping the bin to get the last of the juices out, mother and cubs slumped back down the trail and into the woods.
Words: Hugo Pullen | Photos: Dora Damian
We met our friendly Slovakian man of the mountains today. He took great pleasure in telling us of all the things that are forbidden in Slovakia. A lot of the mountain trails are forbidden, we walked them. Picking wild fruit is forbidden, we picked it. Wild camping is forbidden, we camped.
Lukaš was the best guide we could have wished for, tailoring the mountain climbing to our needs… mainly our need to stop and photograph the vistas. Our second day took us to the top of Jahňací štít (2229 m) in the high Tatras. Illicitly we set up a discreet camp of sleeping bags and roll mats, shared a chocolate bar as the clouds rolled in and the sun set. From our clandestine vantage point we had a view of Slovakia on one side, and Poland on the other.
Words: Hugo Pullen | Photos: Dora Damian
We met Laetitia and Maurice at the highline festival, although our paths had crossed long before then. Their trip started in Greece and finally we met in Poland. We drove in convoy for a while, stopping to pick the plums that are in abundance this time of year. Before nightfall we reached our destination deep in the Sokoliki woods. Climbers over the years have affixed bolts to every granite tower and made these deep dark woods an unbelievable sport climbing Play Park.
Our days took a certain routine: In the morning, bags would be packed full of climbing and slacklining gear to be hauled into the forest. Lunch would be a Tupperware full of plums and dinner would be discussed at length before Dora and Laetitia embarked on some of the best van cooking ever. When it was cold enough we would light the log burner in the van and read until tiredness took a hold.
Words: Hugo Pullen | Photos: Dora Damian
Stuck in Krakow waiting for a wheel bearing to arrive, a Slovakian friend told us of a highline festival happening that very weekend 300km away. We thought the van could handle another 600km on a noisy wheel bearing, so off we limped to Olesnica for some excellent times with the great unwashed.
Encamped in the castle grounds was an eclectic mix of circus folk touring Europe with their families in vans and a few familiar slackliners. In the evenings we were treated to upbeat bohemia vibes and dancing in the streets to polka rhythms.
Words: Hugo Pullen | Photos: Dora Damian
