Cesky Krumlov... hype t'was justified

I immediately knew the hype about Cesky Krumlov was justified. The train ride from Cesky Budejovice was when I knew. In a train that consisted of the engine and one carriage on hard proletarian red seats, we bumped through the stunning Czech countryside. The train hosted locals, and a couple of folk with big backpacks. The backpacked ones exchanged glances, knowing we were all on the same pilgrammage. The train stopped every five minutes, it seems that three houses clumped together is enough to constitute a town. The "train stations" ranged from nothing at all, to buildings resembling the cubby house I played in as a child, to one that looked like a Sydney Buses stop that had been transplanted in to South Bohemia in the Czech Republic, and another that resembled a portaloo with the station name stuck on the front. The hills were green and rolling and largely untouched except for the farmhouses and the occasional power line, and there was always something to look at, from a pub in someone's backyard to a school which consisted of a small house and a playground of colourful play equipment that looked like fun but would never pass public liability tests in most countries. The speed of the train could best be described as "scenic", since Cesky Krumlov is only 25km from Cesky Budejovice, but it took an hour to reach it.

Finally we arrived, and the backpacked ones stumbled out of the train looking disoriented. I talked with a cute Bostonian who was still wearing the dazed look of someone who had just arrived overseas. He told me he had just arrived in Prague days earlier, and would be travelling for two and a half months. He will soon lose that look of confusion, after a while you just get used to being lost and the more interesting place the better. We decided to follow an old local man down the steep hill. We finally sighted the medievil town, and as we walked through the ancient town gate, I was delighted to discover that the town gate was actually my hostel. The Bostonian and I parted ways, and I checked in... climbing up into an attic room was not easy with my pack, but worth it. Exposed beams and ancient door fastenings that make a loud thud when closed awaited me.

I decided to Czech out (hehe, nice pun) the town, and it is stunningly beautiful. Tiny, and overlorded by the rather gaudy coloured castle which is one of the largest in Europe, Cesky Krumlov is encircled by a river with a good current. The river carves a horseshoe shape around the town, so you can float around the town, jump out of the river, haul your floatation device of choice for five minutes across town, and then do it all over again... which I shall be tomorrow. It's really relaxed here, the perfect place to chill for a few days.

In fact the only thing wrong with Cesky is that there are currently a lot of Australian and British yobbos and lager lads around on one of those Busabout trips. So glad I didn't do the Contiki thing or anything like that, much prefer being an independent traveller. Oh well, at least there will be people to watch the World Cup game with this arvo, even if some of them (not all, I met a few nice ones too) are bogans!

But Cesky Krumlov is the ideal place to celebrate a special anniversary... the one month relationship between my backpack and I :) It's been one month since I left London, and it's gone very quickly. Only 6 more weeks to go before it's back to reality...

But for now, it's back to Cesky for me to chill, wander and forget about the world. Until some dumb yank starts talking politics in the hostel bar again.