Cesky Krumlov Hotels
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Ye olde feast and debauchery in Krumlov
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I hate to be boring here but honestly, it was just another ridiculously lax, extremely enjoyable day in the medieval village. I peeled out of bed in the mid morning, checking out that same glorious view outside the window above my bed, with the winding Vltava river and the green banks with terracotta medieval buildings lined along it. I could get very bloody used to waking up to this sight. Cesky's claws might not be quite as sharp as Prague's, but they're sharp enough to keep you there longer than you need to be.
Cesky Krumlov at night really is a sight and an experience to behold. Though it might have been totally fine all day, warm, sunny, glorious, by night the chivalric mistiness and hazy comes out as if on cue, like 'old man weather' knows that the joint is an old medieval town and takes his cue to usher in an appropriate ambience to appease the drunken, awestruck tourist. Last night, after saying bye to the Aussie birds, i just sat on the hill along the winding road near the Krumlov House and took in the hazy, luminance of the Cesky castle, the crescent moon arching to its left, bright yellow and equally blurred by the ubiquitous misty fog. You could smell roasting, charred meats, and cold, cooked stone. It was deadset a picture perfect scene from any medieval period piece - i was full on expecting a galant sir knight on an armoured up steed, steam puffing out of its nostril, decked to the hilt in chain mail and jousting stick (bloke's selling a joustin' stick....dreamin'), clippin and cloppin down the road behind me. Boar and Wine all the way. Moments passed, then a Fiat fanged it around the bend. No steed, no shiny ass knight, but i pretended it was.
Anyway, today was still a little overcast despite brief moments of warm sun. Played a fair bit of guitar in the lounge today, chatting to three other melbourninans, one chick who used to live in Northcote as well as Paul, the dude i got talking to the other day. They were all heading off this morning, another bunch of randoms you meet, get to know, then have to say farewell to. The old backpacker chestnut. Had a good conversation with Mike, the hostel dude, sharing many a story about the old stomping grounds in Melbourne, our common love of the city and its unbeatable, world class music culture. Mike nearly soiled himself when he saw that i had the 'Lester Bangs' book, and tried to persuade me to let him have it. The book exchange at the hostel was chock to the brim with Danielle Steel novels and literary classics like the Da Vinci Code, and it'd been a long winter without some decent reading material for the Mikester.
Anyway, the laziness got the better of me, i wandered like a lost soul on a mission of nothing around the laneways and streets, and eventually forced myself to go on another jog around town, taking a goose chase route down along the river banks and somehow finding myself at the lily pond at the end of the Castle gardens on the other side of town.
With book and pen in arm, i brushed off the desire to cook a meal and instead frequented an authentic Czech grillhouse, specialising in 'Ye Olde' cuisine. This joint's specialty was apparently a dish of 'Roast Knee', of what animal i'm not sure. Opting out of the knee, instead I ordered a full on bohemian mixed grill with pork, steak, turkey and chicken, and a sausage, served for the second time on an enormous chopping block. From now on i eat dinner off chopping blocks. Plates are a thing of the past man. Drank a pint of 'Budvar' with the huge wood fired grill right next to me cooking me into a warm sweatball, and making me more pissed than i should have felt after one pint. I wrote stuff in my journal a deflected glances from other patrons that screamed 'Hey...that guy's eating alone', by half pretending i was a food critic and busily scribbling away in my notepad. I gave the place three and a half stars, possibly four if i ate the roast knee. The only thing it was short of was a fully fledged authentic goblet pearled with silver gleam to drink my beer/mead out of. But alas, the food itself was succulent and delicious. Walked out of the Ye olde joint feeling half cut from the immense heat of its furnace, and strolled up to the look out point with castle in full view and sat on one of the park benches for a while. Wrote some more stuff, got all reflective, and thought about my next move, what i was doing next, where i'd be going, and all this in the greater scheme of things. Home was starting to not feel so far away. My mate from Prague, Jake, suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and we had a good chat on the bench, before parting ways, and heading to our respective hostels.
After failing to meet up with jake for a nightcap pint, i stayed in with the krumlov crew and played a game of 'Settlers' with Mike, Lisa the Canadian and Elena the Sydneysider. Mike wiped the floor with us all. It was like monopoly, but less urban, and less brutally Capitalist.
Time really does go too fast in the Czech Republic.
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