The first summer on which I can provide a detailed report started exactly twenty years ago. Until then, two months of holidays almost always looked the same.
On the 1st of July we would leave for our summer house in the Low Tatra mountains and return on August 31st. From there we would sporadically take off on trips to internationally attractive locations, such as Kokava nad Rimavicou, Domažlice or Zemplínska šírava, the latter being known out of pure desperation as the “Slovak sea”.
The westernmost city I had ever seen was called, appropriately, East Berlin.