Well today was clearly a punishment for bragging about bad marking of paths and getting lost. It fully proves the theory that “everything is the way it is supposed to be… its just us, humans, who think it should be different” – fate changes my plans but at the same time takes care of me.
In the morning I got out of the tourist shelter on Nizna Klakova at around 8.30 am. I have asked the horse herdsmen which way to go to Sivakova (my next stop), they showed me so I started that way. But after like 20 meters without a single marking confirming the direction I came back to confirm, they have again repeated their claim so I thought “they work here, so there surely know”. Also in the notes from other tourists in the shelter it was written that there were fallen trees and the path was not clear… Well there were no trees here but path was surely unclear. So I walk, and walk… After half an hour down the hill I find myself on a crossroad and still no marking… crap. Left? Right? Crap*2! I might be on Sivakova and am supposed to go left now, or I am on a completely different place and any route except of going back is a way to get lost even more. So I finally decide to turn back – the only thing that gives me energy while climbing up the hill back to the meadow is designing the exact swearing I will tell the herdsmen who advised me so well, I even consider that if they are not around to listen to me I will write a nice message for them on the door of their hut next to the fence where the horses sleep. It takes me more than an hour to get back to Nizna Klakova.
There is nobody on the meadow, I try every possible direction to look for the beginning of the path I am supposed to take but no marking at all are to be found. I can hear the bells that some of the horses have mounted to their necks, take a map and decide to look for the herdsmen and get some proper information. When I finally locate them, “surprisingly” they actually have no clue – never been to the place where I was going, its just that some tourists have told them its that direction (#$%* !). Frustrated I skip the swearing plan and decide that instead of risking the route again I will take a different path – going around Tisovec to the village of Muran, thus loosing 2 hours compared to original track plan. And again “surprisingly” even here the marking is so bad that I get off the path and take a route to Muran which is half an hour longer.
When I finally get to the village of Muran its already 1 pm. I find a place where I can have a hot soup and sit down to replan my next steps so that I can join the planned route - to the hill of Trstie. I take delight of two cold Kofolas (www.kofola.sk) and start the 4 hours walk of dusty/stony roads across forests to Trstie. I find signs informing me that its actually a tourist path following a 16th century road between the towns/castles of Muran and Filakova called the Route of Maria Czeczi. VERY well marked I have to say. There is hundreds of places where You could possibly go off the path but there is always a well place mark pointing the right direction. When I finally get to Trstie and feel like giving up I see a sign saying “Tourist shelter – 10 m” – things are the way they are supposed to be 
I get ther and its not actually a shelter but a proper big cottage with ironcovered closed windows, but that doesnt matter, I can sleep on the veranda and there is a spring with drink water. When I am nearly ready to lay down the owners arrive – I am feeling pretty awkward, but I ask if I can stay. They say that I can even sleep inside – I still feel awkward. Only after a while I realize that these guys are actually members of the Slovak tourist club and the cottage is not private as I thought but belongs to the club and is just in reconstruction. They actually offer accommodation there for 50 SK (2 USD) per night! But because its in reconstruction I can sleep for free
I sit down again, take the map and realize that I am late compared to plan by more than 5 hours (I was to be on Trstie at noon time). So I decide to change the route and take the closest way to the border – finishing in the village of Lenartovce on the Slovakia-Hungary border. That means some 3 dozens of kilometers of walking on the road, yack! But I dont see any other way to finish on time (On Tuesday I have to be in Prague because of my Ghana visas).
As “bed time stories” the guys share their stories of encounters with bears. Looks like there is too many of them now and they are less and less afraid of people. When I finally go to sleep I realize I am happy that I dont have to sleep outside 
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