Autumn is the perfect time to go to Eastern Europe where the days are sunny and warm up to November. Megi Rychlikova spent a healthy day walking among the beautiful Slovakian mountains.

Slovakia is justly proud of its mountains. They cover most of the country and although not as high as the Alps, the best of them can equal anything that Switzerland or Austria can produce.

In addition, Slovakians practically worship "priroda" or the countryside and devote considerable energy to making it accessible. A huge well-marked network of paths of varying difficulties covers the country and makes our public footpaths and long distance paths look like small beer.

I chose one of Slovakia's best-loved areas, the Zapadni Tatras, at the extreme end of the Carpathian Mountain range which curves for 500 miles through eastern Europe. The scenery is breathtaking, as you would expect in a land where the passes start at 1,500 m (4,900 ft) and any peak below 2,000m (6,500 ft) is not worth mentioning. By comparison, Britain's highest mountain, Ben Nevis is 1,347m (4,419 ft).

The main difficulty is reaching the best walking territory. There are staffed and paid-for car parks at the foot of well-used paths, but otherwise walking routes can usually only be reached by bus - and Slovakian bus stop timetables only include a service's final destination, which is not much use when you want to get out at an intermediate stop and didn't learn Slovakian geography at school.

On arrival, you need one of the excellent "podrobna turisticka mapa", the multi-lingual and beautifully clear Slovakian equivalents of the OS series. The entire country is covered by its 1:50,000 series (equal to the pink one-inch OS maps) and they are slowly bringing out a 1:25,000 series (equal to the OS Explorer) for their national parks which include the best of the mountains.

Each path is colour coded according to its difficulty and the maps have the routes clearly marked in their respective colour, together with the time an average walker would take to cover each section. This is something English maps could take up.

The knowledge that a slope takes an hour to go up and 20 minutes to go down is far more use in planning a day than knowing it is one mile long. The Slovak times are remarkably accurate, if a bit generous when walking on the flat, and are repeated on the brown signposts at various significant points along the route.

I took a seven-mile circular walk up and round the Rohacs valley. Valley! You have to climb 500 metres (1,600 ft) just to get into it and when Slovakian paths go uphill they mean it.

Every step is slightly higher than the next for kilometre after kilometre. There are no little dips, no level stretches where you can catch your breath. And when you finally heave up the last metre and stand with trembling legs and gasping for breath at the top, proud that you have achieved something major in terms of expeditions, you see a youngster half your size walking up the same route. Slovaks are tough.

I passed several families including fathers carrying babies on their backs. They were doing it the easy way round - gentle slope followed by breakneck descent, but it was clearly regarded as a children-friendly route. Its high point is 1,710 metres (5,600 ft).

The effort is worth it. You can start Trstena, in the Orava region of northern Slokavia, and take the bus to Zuberec-Zverovka, one stop before the bus terminus, which is also called Zverovka. Even if you overshoot and stay on the bus to the end, it only takes a few minutes to backtrack to the walk's start.

You are in deep forest and after a short stretch of gentle inclined road start the real upward trek on a well-marked path. Forget about British green public footpath signs.

In Slovakia, as throughout central East Europe, paths are marked by 10cm squares painted on the trees, boulders, fences or ground every few hundred yards. Each square has a strip in the appropriate colour for its path. It takes a lot of effort to get lost.

The first sight is the tall Rohacs waterfall, which was pouring water over its rim even in this year's hot dry summer. Then comes the real climb - with a picnic spot with wooden tables half way.

As you stumble over the peak you look down on the first pearl of this walk, the highest of the Rohacs lakes. Cupped in the mountains, the water is so clear it reflects the sky's colour.

There are three more on the way down, the last of which is back in forests and has a buffet discreetly tucked behind a small ridge with drinks for thirsty walkers.

The peace has to be experienced to be believed. Although the Rohacs valley is famous throughout the region and on sunny days fills up with Czechs and Slovaks, there is room for everyone. You are right out in the wild, in the haunts of bears, wolves and other beasts long extinct in Britain, yet civilisation is just round the corner, and the authorities take care of your safety.

The Tatra National Park, which includes the Zapadni Tatras, is closed to hikers between November and June, partly because it is covered in snow, partly because of the risk of avalanches and partly to protect the wildlife and humans from each other.

There are other park rules to protect visitors which only the foolhardy would think of breaking. Keep to the paths - you don't know what may be lurking in the deeper forest with a hungry stomach - no overnight camping and everyone out of the park between sundown and sun-up; the slopes are dangerous when you can't see.

Treat the mountains with respect and you can spend a very enjoyable week or two - and don't forget several extra films for your camera.

Updated: 18:16 Friday, October 03, 2003