#8 - Czeching in...

DEC 12 & 13: Up to this point of the trip, I’d never felt like I was in a place that was uniquely different … and then came the Czech Republic. My meandering, aimless tour through Europe now saw me leaving Germany and heading on towards Cesky Krumlov, a small UNESCO World Heritage Listed town about two hours south of Prague.

I’d heard a lot about Krumlov, mostly of its beauty and history and its quaint look and feel. The town dates back to the 13th century, and as you walk down the cobblestone steps it truly does feel like stepping back in time... aside from the swarms of Asian tourists. In the last few years, this tiny town has become a bit of a mecca for tourists after a Korean soap opera was filmed nearby. Struck by the beauty of the place, they now come in their droves and it’s quite a weird sight to see so many of them in a tiny little outpost like Krumlov. Yet it’s not surprising. Krumlov is as beautiful as its history is rich. This little town has withstood 900 years of upheaval, war, communist rule, poverty, fascism and neglect, and now looks better than ever.

Krumlov is built around a winding river and a huge medieval castle that sits on a hill in the centre of town. To get there, I had to take a train from Passau and then a bus from Cesky Budějovice, where it seemed the English language didn’t exist, and nor did the locals want it to. I fumbled my way around a baffling shopping centre to eventually find the bus stop... but my bus was long gone. Thankfully, buses leave for Krumlov every thirty minutes, so I climbed aboard the next one armed with stacks of Euros ready to pay. The driver looked at me like I was a moron and said ‘only koruna’, and then pointed at me to get off the bus… My ignorance of European currencies had struck again. I was genuinely surprised at how many European countries didn’t use the Euro, and simultaneously exasperated that I’d inadvertently travelled to what seemed like all of them. Half an hour later, I was armed with another weird currency, a bus ticket, and a bruised ego as the bus trundled along in the direction of Krumlov.

I eventually arrived at my hostel, and after some brief trouble finding the place, I was inside the cosiest little hostel you ever will see. It was completely empty besides Nathan, a 26-year-old bloke from Brisbane. What are the chances, right? (Well, there were also two Asian people there but they seemed entirely disinterested in engaging with a couple of talkative Australians, so they don’t count.) I settled in, chatted with the cute American hostel host who provided an exhaustive list of things to do, and headed out to grab dinner and explore little Krumlov.

The next two days were wonderfully relaxing and laid back. On our first day, we took a guided tour with a local bloke who was full of pride and had fascinating tips about the town. For instance, he explained that symmetry was so important in the design of the town that dozens and dozens of buildings have windows painted on them, just so they look neat and symmetrical. Or how German people were banished from the town following WWII. Or how a home in Cesky Krumlov was worth about 2000 euros in 1989 before the restoration of the town began. Now, the same house would cost over 1 million euro. Bonkers.

Krumlov's most popular centrepiece is a wooden bridge that connects the two sides of Old Town and overlooks the castle and the confluence of two rivers. In summer, our tour guide said it was almost impossible to move on the bridge due to the number of tourists and their selfie sticks. Mercifully for us, in the dead of winter, Krumlov was essentially empty. We had much of the town to ourselves, and loved it. The only downside was the lacklustre Christmas markets, which closed at 6pm and were devoid of any atmosphere due to the lack of foot traffic. Still, it was worth the payoff. Before leaving for this trip, I’d copped a bit of grief for deciding to go through winter, but as someone who (hypocritically) despises tourists and loves to explore places alone, it was perfect. The main cities remained lively, and most of the hostels were still full, but the streets were essentially empty of twonks ruining my photos.

After the wallet pain inflicted by Switzerland, it was refreshing to find how cheap the Czech Republic really is. My Aussie mate and I ate and drank our way through town on $7AUD main meals and $1.50 beers. Even a shot of Jack cost a little over $3, only slightly more than a serving of tartare sauce. I like Krumlov. A lot.

We explored the giant castle, smashed local Czech beers at a hometown brewery, wandered up and down beautiful cobblestone streets, narrowly avoided getting mugged by two young ice addicts, fell in love with the creamiest and best hot chocolate of my life, toured a surprisingly graphic and risqué photography exhibition that displayed a ferocious interest in the female ass, flirted with the cute U.S hostel host once again and vowed never again to try our luck with ‘Fanta Madness’.

The Hill Of The Cross chapel that sits above Cesky Krumlov... a highlight of my visit, no doubt.

My favourite part of Krumlov came in my final hours there, when Nathan and I climbed a nearby mountain that features an old chapel and sweeping views of greater Krumlov below. It was raining, but we forged ahead anyway and were rewarded with gloomy skies and an extremely atmospheric little chapel known as Hill Of The Cross. As we walked inside the crumbling structure, a little old lady waddled over and explained to us – in broken English - the history of the chapel. Her passion was so clear and she was just happy to see people taking an interest in the place, which had stood there in some form since 1710. Years ago, before war and communism gripped the region, the chapel was a focal point and a meeting place for the Krumlov community. The congregation would wander up the hill and celebrate mass several times a week in the rotunda-like building, which underwent many restorations and redesigns over the last three centuries.

However, once the Nazis and later communism swept the then-country of Czechslovakia, the chapel – and Krumlov in general – fell into disrepair. It took until the fall of communism in 1989 for Krumlov to be given the care and attention it deserved. When the country was renamed the Czech Republic in the mid-90s, the new government set about restoring priceless towns like Krumlov.

Statues that used to be featured on the outside of the chapel... after the church fell into neglect, they were moved inside for safety.

Unfortunately, the little chapel on the hill missed out on any funding and is now in a poor state. The little old lady asked us to sign a guestbook to prove to the local government that the church deserved a facelift, and we gladly signed it and thanked her for the history lesson. Nathan, like me, enjoyed photography so we spent the next few hours snapping away and practising filming stabilised video footage with my DJI Osmo like the massive geeks that we are.

Afterwards, as the gloom of dusk approached and engulfed us on that hill, we returned to the hostel and I was eventually on my way to Prague. I was about to find out how lucky it was that I’d spent the last two days taking it easy.