Hike to the Koloska Valley

Itinerary

• From the starting point, we walk south to the first intersection, where we turn right onto the P trail.
• Along the Koloska Valley, we follow the P trail all the way.
• After the Koloska Spring, we turn left onto the Z▲ trail.
• At a fork, we turn left onto the K+ trail.
• When the K trail joins, we head right on it, aiming for the Jókai Lookout.
• From the lookout, the K signs lead us into Balatonfüred.
• The Z trail joins, and from the fork in front of the Christ the King Church, this trail leads to the train station.

About the hike in detail

The Lost Monastery

We start the hike from the bus stop towards the church (crossing the barely visible stone bridge today, built from durable material due to the stream's floods), then turning right onto the P trail aiming for the Koloska Valley. The main street we turn our back to may have been part of the Roman road along Lake Balaton’s northern shore, which due to water level fluctuations and swampy terrain, mostly followed the hillside along the shore at approximately this height. The name Lóczy Lajos Street honors the famous geographer and significant Lake Balaton researcher who spent his last years in his Balatonarács home. (His grave is located in the nearby cemetery.)

The Koloska Street heads straight toward the hills and follows the stream. On the right, Itató Lane branches off, historically known as the place where cattle were driven to drink from a once scattered ford of the stream before buildings were constructed. The valley mouth is so narrow that houses remain only on one side - allegedly during the Turkish era, the inhabitants built a barricade between slopes that approached each other about 20 meters apart and barricaded themselves. On the approximately 5-10 minute section before us, we see only dense forest lining the asphalt, which hides the broadening of the hollow. According to Lóczy Lajos, the Koloska Valley got its name from a Benedictine monastery (and derives the name Koloska from the word “kolostorka”), but apart from the rock popularly called the “friendship cement,” there is no evidence supporting this theory of a monastic building. Furthermore, as the valley’s name predates the linguistic reform-era word for monastery (formed after “klastrom” and “monostor”), it is more likely that the true source is the personal name Kolozs.

Balaton Style

Opposite a parking lot stands the inviting building of Koloska Tavern in the shade – as much as the dense vegetation allows a view. It is worth visiting the garden area, as the building’s history preserves exciting architectural features: its predecessor was a representative of the “Balaton style” program launched in the 1930s. This architectural movement sought to regulate the diversity of rapidly growing holiday homes with a unifying approach emphasizing Hungarian architectural solutions, and (according to one of its source works) considered tools such as low ceilings paired with wooden floors, open porches, or the contrasting pair of white walls and black shutters capturing the “rhythm of Hungarian blood” — symbolizing the joy in sorrow. The Koloska Tavern was built within this popularized program, burned down later, but the rebuilt building still preserves some of the appearance of its predecessor.

The hiking trail passed through the tavern courtyard for decades but has long since bypassed it, leading to the other side of the stream. Its diversion heralds the valley’s tourist development: just as most visitors still use the valley floor road, earlier crowds also sought the spring that way. When the area was declared protected in 1954, it had its own nature conservation keeper for decades, who voluntarily recorded visitor numbers. His data show that while in the early 1960s only 4,000 people annually chose Koloska as their destination, by the late 1970s this number stabilized around 100,000. The development of the excursion site progressed slowly; the wild trail before us was created around this time.

Karst Stream and Drinking Troughs

The charming path after crossing the stream passes through a forested pasture and then enters mixed forest: oak is the dominant species, and it is evident that forestry management works to restore natural conditions. Numerous dead trees lie on the ground, the shrub layer is very rich, and individuals of various ages make up the forest, including many mature specimens.

The path approaches the stream several times and bypasses a mossy rocky outcrop at one point. In parts, the landscape evokes our higher karst mountain ranges. The water also reveals karst origin, as at some points limestone deposits cover obstacles and create small tufa steps. We do not encounter this interesting natural phenomenon in the upper section of the valley, but the atmospheric walk ends in a scene both wild and infinitely gentle. On the left, rugged dolomite rocks wrapped in moss patches guard the valley; on the right, the valley basin is lined with wooded flatlands. Among the old trees, a small pond reflects, signaling that we have arrived at the outlet of the Koloska Spring.

Locals once called the Koloska the “valley of seven springs,” as water seeped from the sedimentary rocks at several points. Today's construction was completed in 1961 and transformed the valley’s character shaped until then by animal husbandry with rapidly increasing tourism. The predecessors of the fresh meadows served as wooded pastures and hayfields, but on the area still called Déllő (southern resting place), cattle spent the afternoon resting. The appearance of visitors around the spring naturally made watering impossible, so troughs were planned below the tavern, whereby water would have been led by pipes. This idea was never realized because animal husbandry ceased around that time. Simultaneously, resting and grill places were built near a small shelter around the water outcrop, and a local trail network was also established.

Behind the Rocks, on the Shore of the Pannon Lake

Sunlight illuminates the lake shore, but deeper in the forest, darkness prevails: the valley narrows almost into a gorge, and rocks appear more often. We leave our former path on the left and slowly climb higher on the Z▲ trail. The steep slope reinforced with steps turns back, guiding us through ancient trees and dolomite ridges into increasingly exposed terrain.

As Scots pines replace deciduous trees, resin scent and Mediterranean atmosphere fill the hollow. On the left appears a rock outcrop secured with railings: we have arrived at the Koloska Rocks. The view is rather pleasant than wide: forests enclose the valley, edged by flat terrain, and the cliff falls sharply like a wild drop into the otherwise mild landscape. It looks as if the earth has split, with Koloska cutting sharply into the plateau.

To understand how this sharply outlined form appeared here, we must look back about 11 million years: then the shore of the Pannon Lake waved at the valley mouth, where streams ran down from the prominent surface of the Bakony. The watercourses cut into previously deposited sedimentary rocks while also depositing their sediment (for example, Balatonarács lies on such a cone). The location of the Koloska Valley was marked by a tectonic fault line between dolomite and limestone layers, where stream water found a path through a shallow depression. Later, the Bakony massif rose further, and water, speeding up, sawed deeper into previously deposited sediment and loess blown in by the wind over time, thus forming the present valley. The relatively resistant dolomite towers exposed by erosion are still shaped today, slowly breaking off piece by piece, while the loess-covered part of the Koloska Valley may undergo visible changes during major floods.

On the side of the cliff, in a hard-to-reach spot, lies the Millei Cave (or Koloska Valley rock shelter). Named after a thief from Arács who, after his thefts, did not dare to return home and was later remembered in legend as an outlaw. The small hollow is unsuitable to stay in, so even the “wandering lad” (in Lóczy Lajos’ words) probably never kept himself there. The path pierces into the bushes, so we must turn our back on the lookout and head into the forest!

The Lost World

Instead of dense forest, the area shows blurry, somewhat grovelike character. Small clearings are natural formations; the habitat's features are evident in the absence of woody plants: the dolomite plateau's shallow soil pairs with a relatively dry climate because the rising Bakony blocks moist air masses arriving from the Kisalföld (Little Hungarian Plain), so much drier air typically arrives here. Limestone-loving downy oak forests indicate a transition toward rocky grasslands on slopes inclining toward Lake Balaton, and their value lies in their natural condition and abundance of native species. This part of the Balaton Uplands, heavily transformed regarding vegetation, is a nook protected from intensive agriculture by ridges shading it from the north and poor soil: it was not really suitable for vineyards, orchards, or even pastures, sparing it from serious disturbance and acacia planting. (In the small valley on our right, in the discontinued Kék village area, vineyards were planted, but regarding its quality, it is enough to recall that it was also known as the “Borsovány Valley” at the time.)

The charming path soon leads under taller trees, where at a fork, we turn left onto the K+ trail. Here, the forest has a quite different character, with larger sizes, and planted pines mix with downy and turkey oak. A long, somewhat monotonous walk awaits us in this environment, but the terrain poses no obstacles as we cross the plateau.

From a clearing, the low ridge of Tamás Hill appears, where we meet the K trail at its base. Then we turn right, uphill, and the landscape changes again: moderately difficult but more strenuous compared to earlier climbs follows, with bush-like forest next to us again. The trampled soil ejects limestone, so we trudge along a bumpy path typical for the mist-guarded mountains above Lake Balaton. Slowly we reach the ridge, and the tower of the Jókai Lookout also appears. The southern slope of Tamás Hill was one of Füred’s most important vineyard areas before the phylloxera plague; in its place, native oak forests have returned, replacing the frequently planted acacias in this direction. (The lake-facing sides of the Balaton Uplands are excellent for certain grape varieties not only due to their sunny location but also the lake’s reflected sunlight, providing more light and a warmer microclimate.)

Lake Balaton from Above

We make a last “wave” attack on the 315-meter peak, finally allowing us to climb up to the lookout. The steps are especially steep and somewhat uncomfortable to step on, requiring careful movement, but the panorama is worth the effort. The landscape is defined by the huge, green surface of Lake Balaton, with Balatonfüred spreading out at the foot of our mountain. The eastern part of the lake unfolds almost completely, and we can admire the view up to Kenese (covered by summer haze). The volcanic surface of the Tihany Peninsula appears like a model landscape, clearly showing the depressions bounded by high rims. Turning away, the forested ridges and green plateaus of the Balaton Uplands rise, and the silhouette of the Bakony mountains stands frost-covered in the distance. The predecessor of the lookout was built in 1951, named after Mór Jókai, who once had a villa in Balatonfüred.

After descending, only a short walk awaits us in nature, but the landscape soon changes again. The K trail calls us downward and soon leads the path into a wooded terrain. We again have views of Lake Balaton from smaller rocky grass patches and get closer to the town. It is noticeable that the settlement has surrounded Tamás Hill, its southwestern tip extending among the streets.

The splendid panorama then fully opens, but next to the cross defining the hill’s view since 2006, we can slowly say goodbye. We descend stairs; distant sailboats disappear, and cars and asphalt appear. The trail winds extensively through streets, and seeing the Christ the King Church (better known as the red church), we need to leave it: here we turn left onto the Z signs, which already indicate the way to the train station. (It takes about half an hour from the cross to the train station.)