Les Marais parisiens

I used to think that the Parížske močiare (Paris Marshes) were just a funny nickname given to them by locals, but when I saw the name on a map, officially, and was intrigued by the origin of the name and then, after reading the history - it is one of the most valuable and last original ornithological sites for waterfowl in Europe - decided to finally visit the marshes!

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The marshes are supplied with water by the 41.5 km long Parížsky Stream, which rises at Kolta, starts to widen at Strekov, then becomes a marsh at Nová Vieska and turns into a channel after Gbelce, from which some of the water also reaches the ponds at Ľuba, to eventually flow into the Hron River. The swamps were first mentioned by Matthias Belius in his work Notti Comitatus Strigoniensis in 1731, when the area of the swamps was three times larger than today.

Sometime in the late 18th century, Count Miklós Pálfy commissioned a well-known Parisian engineer to build a drainage canal from the marshes in order to gain more agricultural land, after whom the marshes are named. (I should point out that I read another version of the origin of the name in a very serious article: according to it, the name originated from the haze, the vapour rising over the marsh at dawn called para/pára in both Slovak and Hungarian, but I prefer to believe the first version about the Parisian engineer).

György Gyurkovits wrote about these engineering interventions and water management changes in his 1839 article. Later on, in the 20th century, the Comrades also had plans to transform the marshes, they wanted to grow rice here, but fortunately they did not succeed, because they recognised the ecological importance of the marshes and finally, in 1966, they declared the Paris marshes a national nature reserve of 184 hectares, then in 1990 they were classified as a Ramsar site. However, it seems that this will not be enough to save them, the problem was already quite serious a few years ago, and sadly it does not seem that situation will improve anytime soon, which is rather sad, as ornithologists from all over the world come here, it is such an important and interesting place.

I walked from our vineyards in Muzla, from BarBar to the train station in Muzla (a pleasant 3 km walk) where I took the train to Gbelce, but I could have taken the bus as well - it's only a 10 minute journey anyway. From here I walked down Jarna Street and then Materska skolka Street at the end of which two nasty looking, hissing and wing flapping swans guarded the entrance to the marshes. After a few minutes of looking at each other, the swans finally relented and allowed me to enter their home.

At the entrance, I was greeted by a lookout tower and a bilingual (Slovak and Hungarian) sign explaining why is the marsh important not only to our area, but also from a national and even European perspective. The nearly 200 hectares of marsh are home to more than 170 species of birds, 500 species of insects and 160 species of spiders (brrrr), the most notable of which is the endemic insect called Gbelcia crassiceps, but the river otter and bog turtle are also unmissable.

The Paris marshes are surrounded by beautiful scenery and create a very romantic landscape. There are two nature trails around the marshes, and after I had my fill of the breathtaking views from the tower, I decided to explore them both. The first one runs from the information board towards Nová Vieska, along the flood barrier on the southern part of the marshes, for about 5 km - it's an easy, pleasant walk, but it can also be done on a bike. It was pleasant, the scenery and atmosphere were uplifting and I was not disturbed by the noise of civilisation from the nearby main road and railway.

The five-kilometre route was quickly over, I could have turned left into Nova Vieska if I had wanted to, but I preferred to rest on one of the lakeside benches with a broad smile of contentment.

Here I wasn't quite sure where the next trail started, so I headed towards Gbelce along the north bank of the marsh, which seemed like a perfect idea until the comfortable grassy trail lined with watchtowers ended somewhere halfway along. Not wanting to turn back, I continued along the ploughs, my boots getting muddy and my footsteps becoming increasingly heavy as a result.

After about a kilometre of wading in the mud I started to get ugly, I was in the middle of nowhere, walking slowly, having to look under my feet and not being able to enjoy the scenery, also the sky was overcast and the wind was blowing. When the heavens had had their fun with me, they returned me to the grassy, gravel path, where I soon forgot my earlier peripeteia (after all, one must suffer for beauty). As a reward, I saw and heard roe deer, in addition to many birds.

The grassy road led me to the 588 road to Gbelce, where luckily I managed to shake the mud off my shoes and arrived in a sort of civilized state at the famous Barus restaurant, where I licked my plate from hunger.

Despite the unpleasant stage, this hike almost immediately became my favourite because it is very close, it is easy to get to, it is enjoyable even in winter - ideal in spring or summer - and it requires no serious fitness or too much time, so it can be combined with other attractions of which Gbelce and its surroundings have no shortage, and about which I will certainly write more.