Český Krumlov

Maybe the simplest way to describe my stay in Český Krumlov is just to mention that I originally booked for two nights but ended up staying for seven, in what was easily the best hostel I have come across. The only reason that I left after seven nights was due to having very little time to see Austria and Slovenia, courtesy of a flight to Spain that I had booked two months in advance.

The town of Český Krumlov encompasses a compact medieval centre, extremely charming and full of character despite a boom in tourism in recent years. The fast flowing river that winds through the town like a wriggling snake was partially frozen, a testament to the low winter temperatures that held Český Krumlov in an icy grip for the duration of my stay. A magnificent castle overlooks the village from a steep rocky outcrop, and the castle gardens behind it were pretty despite the barren and leafless trees, although the castle staff routinely kept the gardens closed for no apparent reason.

The hostel itself — Krumlov House — was a truly refreshing experience, small and intimate, cozy and relaxing, and managed by a delightful young Aussie couple, Cam and Em. In Cam’s own words, the hostel was “like staying at a mate’s house, only there’s different people every night”. It was such a comfortable place that, for the first time on this trip, I felt absolutely no guilt in spending an entire day doing nothing except hanging out in the hostel, reading a book, watching a movie or talking to whomever else was around.

Like so many out of the way places in Europe the hostel was home to an almost exclusively Australian crowd, making it feel even more like home despite the ridiculous temperatures outside; the few travellers from other countries were decent enough to put up with this large Australian contingent. The atmosphere in the hostel was extremely relaxed, to keep it that way Cam and Em even refused accommodation to several travellers that they deemed unsuitable.

Looking back, it was one of the best groups of people I have encountered in a hostel — take a bow (in no particular order) Daniel, Holly, Michaela and Priya, Ally, Eric and Sally, Brent and Kerri-Anne, Cierra, Chris, Corinna, Emily and James, Justin, and last but not least, Cam and Em. Daniel, an American and one of only two non-Australians, was in town for three weeks for an intensive workshop on molecular evolution, so we saw very little of him. The only other non-Australian was Justin, a Canadian whose reputation preceded him: several people had already met him in Prague and his name kept coming up in conversation.

Český Krumlov trivia #1: the town castle is unusually large given the size of the town itself: of all the castles in the Czech Republic, it is second only to Prague’s Hradčany castle.

A holiday from my holiday, my time in Český Krumlov revolved around a few simple pleasures: sipping the wickedly rich hot chocolates available from several cafes; slowly working my way through generous slices of medovnik (a traditional Czech honey cake); admiring the streets, buildings and castle; and skating on a nearby frozen pond as a group, enjoying the novelty of it all and staying warm with flasks of delicious mulled wine, prepared for us by Cam and Em and essential for a good afternoon of skating. In fact, so luxurious was my stay in Český Krumlov that the medovnik and hot chocolate became a daily ritual, the only problem being that two cafes served excellent hot chocolates and each day a choice had to be made. One cafe served what was essentially a small cup of molten chocolate that had to be eaten with a spoon, while the other cafe served a hot chocolate that could well have been liquefied chocolate mousse. What a delightful dilemma to have!

In response to such luxury and laziness, I eventually felt impelled to have at least one physically active day. I was not the only person to suffer so, as one morning Ally mentioned that she was going to hike to a nearby mountain. Her boyfriend Eric was resigned to accompany her because he did not want her hiking alone, having no real desire to go on the hike himself. He was only too happy when I elected to join the hike, allowing him to spend his day relaxing in town. Walking through the new town (much less appealing than the medieval district) Ally and I soon reached the woods, the path diverging from the road and twisting between the trees as it headed ever upwards.

After two peaceful hours of trudging through the snow and slipping on patches of bare ice, we emerged at the summit to find a closed restaurant, a small abandoned observatory and an old Holden Commodore complete with Holden badges! Looking out across Bohemia, covered as it was with a low-lying blanket of cloud, we could just make out wind farms on some distant mountains but could see nothing of Český Krumlov. Having remained stationary for only a few minutes, a cold chill began to set in and we started the trek back to town, but not before a man from the restaurant stunned us by casually strolling outside in only thongs, shorts and a shirt to dispose of several garbage bags.

The evenings were typically given over to sampling Czech beers in combination with traditional Bohemian food, which was a little more exotic and interesting than the food in Prague. Another improvement over Prague was the service, which at times was more than acceptable, although one Indian restaurant kept its door firmly closed despite proclaiming to be open, the staff preferring to earn their wages by sitting in an empty restaurant than by serving customers. Following dinner the nights were often spent lounging in the hostel, talking or watching movies — it had been many, many years since I last saw the Goonies — and when the supply of bottled beer ran out, it was an amazingly novel experience to acquire more. Grabbing one or two large earthen jugs from the hostel, it was only a few steps to the pub next door. Once the steep wooden stairs were negotiated, the lady behind the bar would happily fill the jugs with the beer of our choice (Kozel Dark was our mainstay) and we would return to the hostel with grins on our faces, having paid around AU$14 for nine pints.

Český Krumlov trivia #2: the town is featured in films such as “The Illusionist” and “Hostel”.

Several other evenings were spent drinking at the nearby Horor Bar (sic), a small bar housed underground in a series of crypts, tables in the shape of coffins and ceilings adorned with skeletons and drinks bearing ominous names such as “warm blood”. The choice of music conspired to confuse the atmosphere, however, especially Tracy Chapman — given the appearance of the barman I would have expected some 80s metal, even (shudder) Manowar. Thankfully these evenings were relaxed affairs and the mornings were never unwelcome.

One atypical evening was spent in search of the local pool, which was apparently open until 10pm. After blindly following several roads in the dark, we stumbled across a building that might have housed the pool, except that it was obviously closed. Catching the attention of a local man who was about to set off on a jog, we attempted to ask for directions to the pool only to discover that the man spoke Czech, Russian and German. My confidence buoyed by my linguistic successes in Munich, I let German words pour from my mouth and was amazed to discover that an understanding had been established between us. Once this shock cleared, I was able to ascertain that indeed we had found the pool, and that it was open until 10pm every night except this night, when it instead closed at 9pm. We had arrived at five past nine. Some heartfelt thanks were exchanged in German, and we were dejectedly on our way back to the hostel.

Hearing the sounds of hockey drifting through the night, Justin and I left the rest of the group and headed for the ice rink that we had discovered earlier that day. What we found was a friendly and entertaining scrimmage between Czechs of various ages, some of whom were definitely of USSR vintage. As the players left the ice, we gathered the spare pucks for them and once again headed off into the night. By now, our stomachs were demanding sustenance but it was too late to find an open restaurant or pub kitchen. Unperturbed, we set out in search of the largest supermarket, Tesco, only to take a wrong turn and eventually give up — not that it mattered, the supermarket would have been closed anyway.

The next morning Justin and I again set out for Tesco, this time with the correct directions on paper. We stocked up on food, resisted the urge to buy a 1.5kg jar of Nutella, and emerged into the car park very hungry and with many, many bags of shopping. Carrying all of these bags for the half-hour walk back to the hostel was not an appealing prospect, so we casually pushed the shopping trolley out onto the street and began wheeling it all to the hostel.

The first twenty minutes were very successful, only drawing bemused looks from passing traffic, but just as we reached the home stretch we were pulled over twice by police. The first policeman spoke no English, but we were able to convince him that everything was okay and that we would return the shopping trolley. The second car pulled a U-turn through traffic and slammed on the brakes, one of the policeman not even waiting for the car to come to a stop. This second policeman demanded to see our passports (which we had left at the hostel) and was very reluctant to let us go. A few minutes later and the fully loaded trolley was blocking the hostel foyer as we unloaded everything into the fridge, before ending up in the yard of a tiny local supermarket a mere two minute scurry from the hostel.

And so, after eight glorious and carefree days, I was reluctant to leave but determined to see some of Slovenia and Austria before catching my flight to Spain. On the basis of several glowing reviews I elected to visit Lake Bled, a Slovenian lake famous for being amazingly beautiful and which my travel guide informed me would be frozen at this time of year. Tantalised by the prospect of skating on Lake Bled, this was enough enticement to convince Justin to head there with me. And so early one cold Czech morning, we packed our bags and left Český Krumlov behind. I hope I will return one day.