Convalescing in the Carpathians
Let’s say that this summer, you’re craving a trip that’s a little … stranger than usual, but something that let’s you come back refreshed. I’ve got just the thing.
What you’re gonna want to do is explore the Ukrainian side of the Carpathian Mountains, or Karpati as the locals call them. Karpati are known for numerous sanatoriums thrown across its long mountain range. A sanatorium is a sort of medical resort, usually located in a picturesque location and always next to thermal springs. They’re insanely popular in Europe, the most famous one being Karlovy Vary in the Czech Republic. If you find yourself frequently perusing Russian literature, you’ll notice many duchesses and dames and particularly melancholic blue-blooded gents vacationing near these thermal springs to cure their eternal ennui.
The most important thing to pack while vacationing in Karpati is of course your mineral water sipping cup. You thought you were done with them as a toddler but if you omit the sippy cup from your convalescing in the mountains, the sulfur-infused mineral water will corrode your teeth. So, better pack one of these beauties. The point of these is to put the mouthpiece past your teeth, so water flows freely into your esophagus, leaving your pearlies be. Of course, you could opt out and get a Camelbak, but Americans are already mocked overseas, so why push your luck?
No planes fly directly to Karpati, so you’re likely arriving by a long-distance train from the nearby Lviv. At this point, you are the personification of angst, but instead of hitting the hay or enjoying sycamore-covered hills, you’re prompted to the doctor’s office. If you don’t have a readily available list of everything that’s wrong with you, they’ll make one for you. After a rigorous strip down, you find out about your minor scoliosis, impending arthritis, and the too-well-known indigestion issues. Good news is, mineral water can fix it all! Bad news is, mineral water can fix it all if you submit to several hours of daily procedures and eat exclusively unsalted, mild, broiled, baked, and steamed produce only. You’ve survived public school food — how bad can it really be?
The sanatorium has no pretenses about it; it’s already an established part of the Ukrainian psyche so the administration doesn’t bother with marketing. The place is perfectly utilitarian. Your room has one bed with one rock mattress, one nightstand, one reading lamp, one table, one chair, and one closet. You wake up at 7am every day because breakfast ends at 9am, which also happens to be when your first procedure starts.
It’s the usual: peloid wraps, some jacuzzi, some massages, some extracorporeal shockwave lithotripsy for those kidney stones. By 2pm, you’ve already eaten lunch and are on your way to the springs. The springs are strategically located about half an hour away from the sanatorium to force you to walk after eating, see the beauty of Karpati, and pay special attention to the local vendors lined up outside of their villages. You don’t mind them. You buy lots of chachkies for the family and woodland strawberries for yourself.
The thermal springs are beautiful and are located at the center of the spa town. You learn that folks with ulcers drink cold water and the rest drink hot water. The high temperature of the water makes the sulfur especially palpable and you feel like you’re drinking liquid rotten eggs. But it’s good for you, so you chug it like a champ out of your sippy cup.
Then make your way back to the sanatorium, eat dinner, and pass out by 9pm. “This is kind of absurd,” you think, as you slip into one of the best slumbers you’ve had since infancy.
