CZECH ODDITIES

 

THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF CZECH

The Czech Republic is a wonderfully odd place. Being, as it was, both an ancient kingdom and a part of the Soviet Union, each town is a mish-mash of medieval splendour and depressing concrete apartment blocks. Streets are riddled with abandoned objects, a pram filled with bricks, a half-finished construction site. Roads, too, follow no good sense, and sometimes ended in a large barrier, or coincided with the tracks of a tram-line. 

The Czech Republic is decidedly awesome in all its peculiarity - the people too. Don't get me wrong, they are lovely people, and human, just like you or me. But there is a certain charm there, a je ne sais quois. Maybe it was the way they dress? On one particularly broiling day under the Czech sun, we spotted five shirtless pot-bellied men, and one man wearing a shirt but no pants.

Whatever the source of its charm, the Czech Republic warmed my heart.

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OTHER WEIRD WONDERS WE ENCOUNTERED

The many army supply stores, where one can freely buy ninja stars, batons, and brass knuckles. Naturally, these places were swarming with children.

The bank notes, each picture portraying what appears to be a wizard.

Two brothers wearing Borat-style swimsuits, smoking while paddling down the river Vltava.

Pickled everything: pickled sausages, pickled beets, pickled fish, pickled pork rinds.

The many nuclear power plants.

The never-ending construction zones, most of which have no signage, traffic cones, or warnings.

The superb and extensive selections of beer in every supermarket, often with two whole aisles given over to the stuff.

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That one time we emerged from a backroad to find our way blocked by a tonne of concrete. I considered driving around it and into the large ditch on the side, but then reconsidered and turned back the way we had come.

That other time I found myself driving on an ever-narrowing road, till, without warning, I was stuck between the pavement and a large fence. And again, I sighed, and turned back the way we had come.

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Some parting words... They say it best, in their place.

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CESKY KRUMLOV

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It is the year 1253, and on the banks of the Vltava river, that same snaking water that winds its way through the heart of Prague, a castle is taking shape. 

The castle is situated on a swarth of green meadow, caught between a twisted loop in the river - a natural embodiment of security from the thieving bandits around-abouts. 

Where there is a castle, there grows a town. Around the walls, people flock to find work, patronage for their art, or markets for their livestock. And so the town of Cesky Krumlov was born - named after the curved meadow on which it sat. 

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WONDERS OF A MEDIEVAL TOWN

Terracotta roofs, huddled close to one-another.

River-rafters braving the rapids; Oliver and I, watching the spectacle from a bridge above.

Small shops selling dusty books in unknown languages, traditional spiced cookies, and barrels of mead.

The dark-doorways of the bars, and the promise of a cold draught beer for the price of a smile.

Walls covered in Renaissance style sgraffito and painted illusions: bricks, stones, florescues and curlicues. 

A moment spent sitting on the wall of a park, watching children play a game of piggy-in-the-middle below my feet in a private garden.

During the sun's pinnacle ascent, the crowds in the old town became too much. This was the perfect time to find a tea-room, and rest a while on pillows under the shade, drinking teas infused with rose waters, coconut flakes, and exotic flowers that bloom when hot water is poured on them.

Winding streets, alcoves and arches - the ideal setting for a promenade of hand-holders.

A market-place in a medieval courtyard, stalls piled with wooden spoons and blown glass.

A meal in a dark hovel of a place, the pork knee cooked upon an open fire. 

The sheer mystery of it all... All the while, I was trying to peer behind the screen of façades, to learn of the once-beating heart that was this medieval town.

“Cesky Krumlov, the little jewel box of a city in southern Bohemia.”

— LAINI TAYLOR

LET'S BE INTREPID

CURIOSITY

OVER MOUNTAIN AND UNDER MOUNTAIN

“Curiously enough, the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias as it fell was Oh no, not again. Many people have speculated that if they knew exactly why the bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the Universe than we do now.”

— DOUGLAS ADAMS - HITCHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY

Standing a meter and sixty centimeters above the soil, I am able to survey a wide range - my sight moves beyond the immediate. 

Some scientists have pointed to our height, in an effort to explain our natural curiosity as humans. Because we see further, we wish to go further. Others point to the inner workings of our brains. Whatever the cause, humans have always been an intrepid bunch; crossing ice bridges, venturing to the outer extremes of our planet - those rivers, glaciers, poles, mountains and seas. We explore the inner world too, the world of cells and atoms, the world of the mind and the psyche. We are naturally curious. 

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.”

— T. S. ELIOT