
I'll start by saying this article is extremely subjective. What's more, it was written by someone who only acknowledges two seasons: fall and waiting for fall. When the Slowhop team pines for summer dresses, I happily pull out my sweaters and greet the cool evenings with a smile.
I've prepared a slow bucket list for you, one that's intensely autumnal. If you also love fall, you'll find inspiration here. And if you still don't believe life is best at around 15°C, maybe you'll let me convince you to change your perspective.
Zosia from Slowhop

It was September when I saw three bears in two days. The Bieszczady Mountains had emptied after the summer rush, and it was easier to find paw prints than shoe prints—which was both awe-inspiring and a bit intimidating. From that trip I learned that mountain meadows aren’t my thing, but I can’t wait to return to the Otryt Range. This time I'll bring just a warning bell on my backpack so I don’t have to keep singing on solo hikes…
I already have a tried-and-true spot: Chyża Hapełe, whose hosts also run the wonderful cinema-café Końkret. It’s right by the San River, near abandoned villages and the charm of the old Bieszczady.

The intergenerational theatre group PLEMIĘ isn’t made up of famous names but of local community members. Monika Babula brought together these enthusiasts and now each autumn she invites audiences to a performance inspired by Part II of Adam Mickiewicz’s Dziady. But instead of Rózia or Józio, the chapel hosts the spirits of the Low Beskids: WWI soldiers, deer, Roma women, and carpenters. You can see the show in Wysowa-Zdrój during the first three weekends of November.
When I’m in the Low Beskids, I can’t imagine staying anywhere but Dom na Łąkach. Plus, host Aga can share backstage stories from the rural theatre—she’s part of the troupe herself.
Photo from the performance by Beskid Bliski / source: teatrplemie.art

I counted 60 stags in the largest herd I’ve ever seen. And since in the Kłodzko Land forests mingle with wide meadows and winding roads, you can spot scenes like that even from your car.
But the best experience is watching the rut from a chair—and I’m not speaking poetically. Just book a stay at Artystyka (specifically the Dziupla Apartment) in the Bystrzyckie Mountains and set your alarm clock. It’s totally worth it, and you don’t even have to change out of your pajamas.

I didn’t meet anyone for the first hour. Just emptiness, wind, sand, and my overjoyed dog. Some people say they love the Baltic most in summer, when it smells more like waffle cones than sea breeze. I recommend seeing the sea off-season, with a thermos under your arm as you search for storm-washed amber.
I drove to the deserted tip of Hel from the Co za Widok apartment. Included in the price: that namesake view of the Baltic, a sauna, and a basket of regional treats.

If Outlander were filmed in Poland, some scenes would be set in the Drawsko Lake District. Take the so-called Devil’s Heatherlands—over 900 hectares of violet moors, some of the largest in Europe. Add the Wolf Gorges, the Valley of Five Lakes, and the Old Railway Trail, and your imagination will run wild.
I owe my love for the Drawsko Lake District to Ana—host of Jelonków 2 and creator of the Dzikie Zdroje project. Ana welcomes all lovers of wild thickets to her three charming apartments. For those who wish, she serves warming breakfasts and dinners straight from her garden.

Here’s another nature tip—in parallel with the deer rut, there’s the lesser-known moose rut. The prime spot is, of course, Biebrza National Park, where you’ll find moose along the Royal Road (my record: 13 in one drive!) and on the boardwalk trails over the marshes.
For accommodation, I recommend Zagroda Kuwasy, where I was treated like royalty and listened to wolves howling from my room.

Sometimes I wake up thinking: I want to see the Tatras. And that’s it—no matter how many months I spend in the Bieszczady or the Sudetes, I’ll still dream of those sharp ridges. This year, to beat the Tatra fever, I’ve already booked a stay at Lost Road House so I can watch them from the terrace. I’m counting down to my October getaway.
Because the Tatras in autumn mean: fewer people on the trails (and in the middle of the week it’s practically empty), hot chocolate in the mountain huts, and more predictable weather.