Bicycling around Cesty Krumlov-Day 5

Today, the clouds lifted, the sun appeared and we biked 42 km (30 mi) through the Czech countryside. It really doesn’t get much better than this.

I was so excited by the prospects afforded by a bicycle that I didn’t mention that we are staying in a very cool former Jesuit seminary in the Cesty Krumlov. I would say that it is on the river, but the way that the river winds through the town leaves little room for anyone not to be on the river. In this case, however, our room is perched above the river, and one can hear the river babbling as it goes by, which is a very nice, non-city like sound with which to wake up in the morning. The décor is very medieval, which is a little strange since the seminary was built in the Counter-Reformation, sort of between the Renaissance and the Baroque periods. After breakfast, we got our route map and our directions for the day. Yesterday, our loop went west, following one of the creeks that feeds the Vlata. Today, we headed north, along what was described as the hilliest route we are likely to get this week, ending up in the little town of Borsa na Vlata for a “real Czech lunch”, according to Olga and Jan. Sounded really nice. We went.

Riding out of town, our route took us through the Soviet-era apartments that were ubiquitous throughout Eastern Europe. A word of history will make some of this make sense. Cesty Krumlov began as a Czech town with Hapsberg rulers under Catholic rule. Then the Hussites blew threw town, followed by the Jesuits (who built what is now our hotel) and finally some very shrewd nobles named the Rosenbergs, who made a fortune in trade, beer and carp (yep, they started fish-farming around here 400 years ago). The Rosenbergs brought in Germans from Bavaria and Austria, and there were the usual Jews and Roma and Italian- court followers- by 1600, Cesty Krumlov was a happening place.

Over the next 300 years, the town gradually fell into disrepair. The carp and beer business lost their vigor, the Rosenbergs died out and the Schwarzenburgs, their successors, had nothing going for them other than their connection to the Hapsberg empire, which finally collapsed in 1918. In 1938, the Nazis moved in and the Jews were sent away. In 1945, a newly independent Czechoslovakia sent the Germans (by now, 80% of the town) packing. The Communists build apartments and tried to promote industry, encouraging people to move back into the town now half-vacant after the Germans moved out. And during the 40 years of Communist rule, the town had nothing much going for it. Just a bunch of old buildings on a gorgeous river with the largest and most beautiful Baroque castle in Czech. Come 1989, and the velvet revolution, and the entrepreneurs realized that they had a tourist attraction to rival King Ludwig’s Castle. So the town rebuilt itself as the perfect example of Baroque Europe.

Riding through the Soviet era apartments and into the countryside let us see that Communism had not, despite its best efforts, ruined the countryside. It also let us see where a lot of Czechs live. The newly entrepreneurial Czechs are trying to spruce up the apartments, to make them more colorful and less like cinder block, and it is sort of working. But the countryside, just beyond the ring of “suburban apartments” is glorious. And the network of bicycle paths is extraordinary. Once we left the industrial lands, we saw farms and woods and villages of extraordinary beauty. There were a couple of interesting hills, including one up a ravine in the woods that left Julie and I breathless, but these were countered by gentle wafting breezes and the ultimate emergence of the sun. In the farms, there were frequently shrines, a tribute to the days when the farmers held more with religion than is not the case (only 30% of Europe expresses a religious affiliation at present, a legacy of years of religious strife, I suspect).

The lunch was great, as advertised. I had baked pork and rice, Julie had fruit dumplings; both were great. And the ride home took us through some of the developing suburbs, with housing ascending in value and tastelessness as you ascend the hill. Capitalism will do that for you. Olga says that many Czechs are not sure how to deal with poor taste and bizarre aesthetics of some of nouveau riche. I assured her that the US, with it McMansions and suburban sprall, hadn’t figured that out either. We also saw a riverside campground, where Czechs camp while canoeing down the Vlata. Old fashioned camping this was- fire pits and tents. It was a glorious 42 km ride- rumour has it that we do 70 km tomorrow and I can’t wait.

We were back in town by 3 and Vermont Bicycle Tours had arranged two hours of city touring for us after that, which was probably more than we needed. Great stuff, though. We saw under the stage of one the last Baroque theatres in Europe, and got the chance to piece together the history I related above. Wonderful stuff.

As you can imagine, after our dinner at “The Two Virgins” (long story, don’t ask), we were ready for bed. Tomorrow, into Germany!