Road becomes narrow, winding at times through dense forests or increasingly less and less populated villages. There are some gravel dead-ends, and not too many sign posts. But on this autumnal day, there is always a local farmer working in the fields to point you in general direction. Not that there is a “right” direction; we are on a somewhat nostalgic drive through the foothills of Polish Carpathian Mountains, hoping to locate an old favorite mushroom foraging spots. The sun and memories are our guides. We are in luck; a colony of porcinis is waiting…
