Absolutely brilliant and exhausting day wandering the nearby hills. Above the treeline especially, very difficult. In fairness, I've been at sea level for some time now.
Absolutely exhausted. Long maundering through a circular bike trail trying to find the elusive trail head, which took me a good ways orthogonal to the range, and ended up just walking up the access road to the larger hills. Blazes here are a bit spotty. The assumption appears to be that everyone has GPS. Much like the blank stares I get when asking at the cheap stores for compasses -- a few had some toy compasses which were quite an improvement on the traditional compass, as the latter has only one direction for north. Really, any of the usual Chinese bulk-buying websites would be able to get them decent compasses for $4, which they could sell for $20. (They're trying to diversify the tourist approach, but it's still fundamentally a ski town.) But the hills are extraordinary. Macedonian Pirin. Mythic in the Balkan imagination from the time of Phillip and Alexander. Gateway to the region.
After a 4PM turn around rather high up -- well above the nearby ranges, and an excellent view of the glacial lakes and ranges in the distance, made it back to the road before dark, and then walked down, sometimes only turning on the flashlight when a car approached.
Luckily, there was a 24 hour grocery open (at 24 hour grocery prices), so I bought much milk, turned on the tape from last night's first night at the Wagner festival, and some potato paprikash is on the industrial-strength hotplate. I found an enormous bag of it at the discount grocer for less than $2, and it has done me goodly service. Budapest in a bag. Then some Iris Murdoch until I drift off, and the mortal frame can begin its repair job.