Cesky Krumlov

And western Czech Republic.

This was always going to be one of the highlights of the trip. Along with so many others! The town sits on a hill overlooking the Vtava River, which sort of arcs around the castle and older part of the town. Cobbled streets, Gothic doorways leading in to vaulted ceilinged rooms, narrow laneways, history, the town has it all. It dates back centuries, indeed it was once sold to pay off debts inherited by a crown prince!

We drove into the town and bypassed cramped car-parks to find a suitable spot to abandon Helga while we touristed. We found a student festival going on and a pretty young girl in traditional, almost, dress gave me a little cake from a batch in her wicker basket. It wasn’t until later that I discovered one of the ingredients is not a traditional one. But it made my afternoon very relaxed.

We walked the legs off ourselves, drinking in the special atmosphere that this wee town exudes.

We had to buy a vignette, a badge that allows you to drive on Czech roads, most countries have them.

Our last stop was to the post office to buy it, where we were face with a stern faced woman, who laughed once, possibly when at school forty years ago! Never mind, we went to a different spot after thanking her profusely, almost, sort off!

Clutching our new possession, we walked the twenty minutes back to Helga where we found the local constabulary parked behind her. One officer was in the process of sorting out a wheel clamp, and the other was about to stick a notice on Helga’s screen. Waving the vignette at them I hoped they thought we had only just gone to buy it. It worked and they begrudgingly got back into their car and sulked off. Again I thanked them profusely, only this time questioning their parent’s status!

Away we went, we put the coordinates in for our next stop, we knew it would be impossible to wild camp anywhere near the town. Our site costing a little over nine quid was right beside the river. It was being refurbished for the coming season, but it was only on the bus route into town!

While we were there a group of people were completing a course as instructors for water sports, the river kind. We got talking and happily accepted an invitation to raft own the river at ten that night.

Wow, the town was lit up like a Christmas tree, and apart from the weirs was as calm as silk. The trip lasted about an hour but no pics were taken because it was advised not to bring anything camera wise as it would get wet. It wasn’t as rough as I expected, but a bit hairy in a couple of places, the river was running high.

Back to camp, and slept like a log,

Next morning, we went to visit Rosmberg Castle, a thirteenth century pile with a very varied and colourful history. The rooms we visited were virtually unchanged through the centuries, and again our guide looked and sounded like someone from the Colditz staff.

On our return to Cesky we parked up in a bus park come waste ground conversion and paid the fee for our stay. There was a German and a Danish van there as well. After our strolling and looking and oohing and ahing we went back to leave. The two vans were still there and I asked the Danes if they were staying the night. Yes, they were, and so were we.

We dined out about four hundred yards from the van, and again a lovely meal for two with drinks for under twenty quid, and there were six drinks!!!!

Lousy sleep that night, there were three dogs, one north, one west, and one east, all barking until around three thirty, then there was the snoring…….

We left before ten and drove east, the weather had been fabulous but today was grey, our drive of only around a hundred miles might not offer any big change, but the next adventure was only up the road.

The coordinates for our next stop were in, and we drove lazily through countryside, rich with traditional culture and sights and sounds. Nobody stirred, it was Sunday and the whole of the Czech population must be spending it in their homes with family. Even the roads were empty, it was a joy to drive.

We found our next base after the satnav had tried to get us to go up a back entry of sorts, and across a six foot wide rickety old bridge. Te village hasn’t changed since the communist regime had it built for the workers of nearby light industry. There’s a lot of those relics still in use, reminds me a little of India, and the slow change there.

We arrived at Camping Vidlak, after  a mile and a half of real rough county road. It was so bad a road, had we not needed laundry and hook up, we would have turned around. That is until we drove into the site. Wow, perfect location, manicured lawns all round, a large Carp lake with nesting swans and ducks. A woodpecker drumming away on a nearby tree, a cuckoo, decreeing his presence, and bright sunshine.

Jur and Lillian Vinke, from Holland own and run the site, the large club house with alcohol, but no food at this time of year, features a roaring log fire on cold rural nights.

The couple could not be more helpful, their English perfect, and charm even more so.

So we got the washing done and hung out, then went for a meal in another nearby village. Escalope of pork, Calazone enormous pizza and two pints, around the ten pound mark.

So on that note I’ll go away, tomorrow is something else……