Managed to accidentally create cruise control on the van! More scary antics by the van Napoleon. Imagine you take your foot off the accelerator and the vehicle continues at the same speed unless you brake or lower the gears. Investigations with the help of James discovered a tie clip stuck around the accelerator cable. Whatever way it had been caught it was preventing the cable from relaxing.
Eger, famous for….Bulls Blood, for all you wine lovers. £1 per litre of very fine and immeniently drinkable vino rosso. We are camped about a field away from the wine cellars, so this is altogether very pleasant.
Finally managed to get GAS. After asking lots of people and attempting to buy a new large Hungarian Gas cylinder, was beginning to wonder if a gas bottle was an item to be inherited as opposed to bought. Finally a breakthrough, whoopee. More generosity, when a mechanic drove us to where our camping gaz bottles were refilled at a PrimaGaz depot. A feisty beautiful hotpants clad lady served us with a lot of macho kindness! We were also able to purchase a full large cylinder. Kerching! The mechanic would only take a firm handshake and plenty of verbal thankings. Yet again the warmth and love for humanity is restored.
Besides the wine, this is a lovely old medieval town, also famous for briefly defeating the onslaught by the Ottoman Empire and soldiers, as per usual with only a handful of men, they held an army hostage!!!
There are plenty of old town buildings to keep the eye amused and the people are all fairly friendly. Haven’t managed to sample the nightlife, but the vibe is all quite chilled, unless you are wishing to use the post office. Queues and verbals!
Next stop is Visigrad, slightly north of Budapest, once we manage to drag ourselves away from the vineyard. Good thing we have some empty bottles we can refill with wine to go!
Thursday 28 June 2007
Policeman Plod
Day 36 was a particularly frustrating day. It began with a drive along a nice road clearly marked on the map which would have taken us conveniently to our next destination. Unfortunately this road turned out to be closed. Even more unfortunate was that we only discovered this when we were pulled over by a policeman. A £20 fine did not put us in the best of moods and also left us rather short of cash. When we found they wanted £5 just to park at the Ice Caves it was not a difficult decision to drop this from our itinerary. We then drove back and forth or rather up and down a spectacularly winding stretch of mountainous road, straight out of a Bond movie. First in search of an ATM, then a campsite, which turned out not to be suitable for campervans (nice level pitches just no way of driving onto them, not even for off-road Napoleon Sport), so back down the series of U-bends and off to another site just north of the Hungarian border. Another incredible thunderstorm rounded off ‘one of those days’.
An early start the next day enabled an easy border crossing (no risk of over heating this time) and we entered our 8th country.
An early start the next day enabled an easy border crossing (no risk of over heating this time) and we entered our 8th country.
I Fell in to a Burning Ring of Fire! and I Yelped
Feel like a proper fool writing this recollection of the fire story. Essentially made the mistake of attempting to connect the portable stove to the non resealable gas cylinder inside the van. Mental checklist decided there was no flammable source nearby – forgetting the flame at the back of the fridge. How could I have forgotten the damn fridge and all the twiddling I have been doing there. Still, with these type of cylinders you expect a small leaking of gas prior to tightening. The following happened in milliseconds. Gas spraying faster than normal, me tightening superfast the cylinder to stove. Running for the door, fireball engulfing me and van, jumping out of the van and dropping the burning cylinder, trying to put out the cylinder with a wet towel, towel on fire, fire extinguished, help from neighbours. Complete shock set in as damage to van non visible, L’s feet looking red, me smelling very singed.
We managed collectively to remember the need for cold water soakage. Spent 30 minutes under an icy cold shower and then the rest of the night with my arms immersed in a basin of cold water. Managed to avoid hypothermia in the process and the heat from the burns was much lessened.
Despite all the above happenings, I feel lucky.
We managed collectively to remember the need for cold water soakage. Spent 30 minutes under an icy cold shower and then the rest of the night with my arms immersed in a basin of cold water. Managed to avoid hypothermia in the process and the heat from the burns was much lessened.
Despite all the above happenings, I feel lucky.
Podlesok - what a great name!
One of the best things about this kind of travelling, is being able to change your plans and add new places based on recommendations from fellow travellers. Kim and James had heard about some adventurous walks in the nearby Narodny Slovesky Raj National Park. We found our cheerfully named Podlesok campsite and were even more pleased with the price (£4.50 with electric) and set off along one of the trails. It was marked on the map as one-way only, and it soon became obvious why. Wooden planks turned into metal step ladders as we climbed up the side of waterfalls. Fortunately at this time of year water levels are fairly low, but I imagine in spring you’d get fairly wet on some of the stretches. A stash of monkey nuts was our prize for reaching the top of the valley and then we came back down on a much les interesting path back to Podlesok.
On the second day we headed along another adventure path, which this time favoured metal platforms suspended above a gushing river. Handily placed metal chains made going a little easier – this was certainly a change from pine forests. This route however was two-way so there was plenty of waiting around for opposing groups to get over the next obstacle, as neither of us fancied trying to pass while clinging to the rock face. We came back via a path that took us steeply up the side of the gorge and traversed along the top ridge providing lovely views of the valley and river we had hung over earlier. Tom saw his first snake, which crossed the path directly in front of him, too quick to identify or photo and neither of us volunteered to go into the undergrowth to seek it out any further.
That evening we had rather more adventure than we had planned as a fire almost started in the van. Miraculously the material damage was minor, but a few nasty burns will leave an unwelcome reminder of the episode for a good few weeks to come. Having rocked the campsite with our explosion, we are primarily just relieved that it was not any worse, but recommend that you do not buy or use the small red single pierce gas canister and stove from Lidl. A torrential thunderstorm, where the sky literally turned deep purple marked our midsummer’s’ eve in Slovakia.
On the second day we headed along another adventure path, which this time favoured metal platforms suspended above a gushing river. Handily placed metal chains made going a little easier – this was certainly a change from pine forests. This route however was two-way so there was plenty of waiting around for opposing groups to get over the next obstacle, as neither of us fancied trying to pass while clinging to the rock face. We came back via a path that took us steeply up the side of the gorge and traversed along the top ridge providing lovely views of the valley and river we had hung over earlier. Tom saw his first snake, which crossed the path directly in front of him, too quick to identify or photo and neither of us volunteered to go into the undergrowth to seek it out any further.
That evening we had rather more adventure than we had planned as a fire almost started in the van. Miraculously the material damage was minor, but a few nasty burns will leave an unwelcome reminder of the episode for a good few weeks to come. Having rocked the campsite with our explosion, we are primarily just relieved that it was not any worse, but recommend that you do not buy or use the small red single pierce gas canister and stove from Lidl. A torrential thunderstorm, where the sky literally turned deep purple marked our midsummer’s’ eve in Slovakia.
Our first proper castle
Levoca is supposed to have one of Slovakia’s best preserved old town fortifications. It certainly has a substantial wall surrounding the centre and the large square with very charming buildings makes for an interesting wander. Most interesting however I found was the ‘cage of shame’. It looked like a giant bird cage, but was in fact a place where ‘sinful women’ were locked up to consider their wrong doings!
Away now from the touristy mountain resorts, we began to see a little more of the typical Slovakian homes and families. As we walked out from the centre and down more residential streets the pavements gave way to gravel and grass and children rather than cars owned the streets. Many of the people looked of Romany descent and for the first time I felt I was obviously not in western Europe.
The next day we hitched a ride with Kim & James and went to visit Spissky Hrad (Spis Castle). Now this was a castle that looked like a castle, not the great palaces or mansions of Prague or Krakow. A ruin of course as seems to be obligatory, the current residents are a swarm (unknown collective noun) of gofer/squirrel/giant hamster type creatures who kept popping in and out of holes which spread across most of the site. The castle unfortunately had rather too many annoying school parties than we would have preferred, but the best part was the museum. While only small, you could touch almost everything on show, a really refreshing change from other places with shouting guards on every corner. The dungeon and torture chamber was not my favourite place, but if you like rib crushers and other horrendous implements that you can but imagine their past uses you’d be right at home.
Away now from the touristy mountain resorts, we began to see a little more of the typical Slovakian homes and families. As we walked out from the centre and down more residential streets the pavements gave way to gravel and grass and children rather than cars owned the streets. Many of the people looked of Romany descent and for the first time I felt I was obviously not in western Europe.
The next day we hitched a ride with Kim & James and went to visit Spissky Hrad (Spis Castle). Now this was a castle that looked like a castle, not the great palaces or mansions of Prague or Krakow. A ruin of course as seems to be obligatory, the current residents are a swarm (unknown collective noun) of gofer/squirrel/giant hamster type creatures who kept popping in and out of holes which spread across most of the site. The castle unfortunately had rather too many annoying school parties than we would have preferred, but the best part was the museum. While only small, you could touch almost everything on show, a really refreshing change from other places with shouting guards on every corner. The dungeon and torture chamber was not my favourite place, but if you like rib crushers and other horrendous implements that you can but imagine their past uses you’d be right at home.
Thank you Tom Cruise
We stayed a while in the Tatras, on the other side of the border – Slovakia. Very different landscape, as a storm in 2003 knocked down 3 million of the existing trees across the mountain and surrounding slopes. Consequently, it does appear slightly war torn. There are efforts to reforest the area, but on a year by year basis. It does give other plants the opportunity to bloom and enjoy the open canopy. Plenty of lupins and other to be named wild plants abound, including strawberries – still not ripe.
My first trip on a cable car, went smoothly. Still not sure if I can state that I have a fear of heights, perhaps it is more a fear of falling. We met up with Kim and James again on the same campsite. We realised that we are both heading in roughly the same direction until Eger in Hungary. Very nice to have company and conversations with like minded people again. Noticed that a lot of the Slovakian men out hiking carry hip flasks and gather away from their wives and act like young lads doing a spot of knacker drinking. Spotted several greater spotted woodpeckers, pun intended, happily sculpting the trees.
The allure of the resort townlands, mountain walks and school tours elapsed after a few days and so we planned to head for somewhere a bit more Slovakian. Unfortunately Napoleon decided he preferred the resort with a flat battery! By this stage everyone bar the young caretaker had left for the day. Various attempts at recharging the battery via the leisure battery failed and succeeded in smashing my dreams of becoming a self taught mechanic. No hill in sight for a push start, no jump leads, no Slovakian language, no Lithuanian, no inspiration. We began to pester newcomers as they arrived utilising all communication techniques. Finally a splurge of generosity, not only a jump start was provided, but also a gift of the jump leads. Thank you to the Tom Cruise lookalike, who almost electrocuted himself while doing it.
Napoleon with engine running stopped off after 20 minutes for some necessities in LIDL. We opted to mistakenly leave the engine running, while I ran in and shopped. After a few minutes the engine started to steam up and the coolant spewed forth out of the overflow facility. Luckily, the battery had taken enough charge on and we were able to continue safely if not slightly wearily to Levoca.
Keep wondering why do we have these incidents occurring? I always assumed that these happened to other people and not me, but then Napoleon is 19 years old. No point becoming a fixer unless I acquire some tools as opposed to relying on the generosity of others. Still, invented a novel way of travelling – drive with a flat battery and jump leads, then try and meet people, stop them in the middle of the road and attempt to ask for help, guaranteed to definitely meet people.
My first trip on a cable car, went smoothly. Still not sure if I can state that I have a fear of heights, perhaps it is more a fear of falling. We met up with Kim and James again on the same campsite. We realised that we are both heading in roughly the same direction until Eger in Hungary. Very nice to have company and conversations with like minded people again. Noticed that a lot of the Slovakian men out hiking carry hip flasks and gather away from their wives and act like young lads doing a spot of knacker drinking. Spotted several greater spotted woodpeckers, pun intended, happily sculpting the trees.
The allure of the resort townlands, mountain walks and school tours elapsed after a few days and so we planned to head for somewhere a bit more Slovakian. Unfortunately Napoleon decided he preferred the resort with a flat battery! By this stage everyone bar the young caretaker had left for the day. Various attempts at recharging the battery via the leisure battery failed and succeeded in smashing my dreams of becoming a self taught mechanic. No hill in sight for a push start, no jump leads, no Slovakian language, no Lithuanian, no inspiration. We began to pester newcomers as they arrived utilising all communication techniques. Finally a splurge of generosity, not only a jump start was provided, but also a gift of the jump leads. Thank you to the Tom Cruise lookalike, who almost electrocuted himself while doing it.
Napoleon with engine running stopped off after 20 minutes for some necessities in LIDL. We opted to mistakenly leave the engine running, while I ran in and shopped. After a few minutes the engine started to steam up and the coolant spewed forth out of the overflow facility. Luckily, the battery had taken enough charge on and we were able to continue safely if not slightly wearily to Levoca.
Keep wondering why do we have these incidents occurring? I always assumed that these happened to other people and not me, but then Napoleon is 19 years old. No point becoming a fixer unless I acquire some tools as opposed to relying on the generosity of others. Still, invented a novel way of travelling – drive with a flat battery and jump leads, then try and meet people, stop them in the middle of the road and attempt to ask for help, guaranteed to definitely meet people.
Up and down another mountain
At the entrance to the Tatra National Park lies the resort of Zakopane. We soon discovered that the town itself has nothing more to offer than rows of tacky souvenir stalls and take away kiosks, but it is a very convenient base to explore the mountains. The appealing cable car was unfortunately shut for complete restoration until December, so we knew our walking was going to have to start with a climb. The tourist office had rather ominously suggested that as June is the wettest month in the Tatras, we would be best advised not to venture there at all – some advert! On returning to the campsite, we met another couple from England, Kim & James, who recounted a tale of giant hailstones and no shelter on the ridges, so we began to have doubts about the sensibility of our plan. The next morning however the sun was shining and we were feeling brave, so set off up the mountain.
The first part of the route took us past dry ski jumps. Having only ever seen them on television, watching these crazy people in real life hurtling down the narrow shoots and flying off the end was an awe inspiring sight. The hillsides were littered with chairs lifts which looked rather out of place on a sunny June day. You got the feeling this place undergoes quite a transformation with the changing seasons. We headed up the Dolina Strazyska valley floor, a relatively flat introduction to what lay ahead. At the top of the valley the path turned upwards and a three and a half hour unrelenting ascent took us to our destination of Mount Giewont at 1895m. Views from the top were amazing, as were the size of my blisters. Came back down a much busier trail, passing lots of red faces still heading upwards.
A day of well deserved rest followed, partly also enforced by the weather which had returned to intermittent storms and showers. We were invited round to Kim & James’ van for the evening, which felt like a grand hotel compared to old Napoleon. Lovely gin fuelled evening passed quickly, exchanging travel stories and collecting lots of helpful tips. Plan now more likely to include Greece, with aim of catching ferry to visit Slovenia and Croatia, rather than driving back around Serbia etc.
The first part of the route took us past dry ski jumps. Having only ever seen them on television, watching these crazy people in real life hurtling down the narrow shoots and flying off the end was an awe inspiring sight. The hillsides were littered with chairs lifts which looked rather out of place on a sunny June day. You got the feeling this place undergoes quite a transformation with the changing seasons. We headed up the Dolina Strazyska valley floor, a relatively flat introduction to what lay ahead. At the top of the valley the path turned upwards and a three and a half hour unrelenting ascent took us to our destination of Mount Giewont at 1895m. Views from the top were amazing, as were the size of my blisters. Came back down a much busier trail, passing lots of red faces still heading upwards.
A day of well deserved rest followed, partly also enforced by the weather which had returned to intermittent storms and showers. We were invited round to Kim & James’ van for the evening, which felt like a grand hotel compared to old Napoleon. Lovely gin fuelled evening passed quickly, exchanging travel stories and collecting lots of helpful tips. Plan now more likely to include Greece, with aim of catching ferry to visit Slovenia and Croatia, rather than driving back around Serbia etc.
Saturday 16 June 2007
Still not Chillin’
Tommy not a fixer. A thief stole his crown and poisoned his work. In order to drive from Krakow to Zakopane we had to switch the fridge’s power source over from gas to car battery. Sadly the fridge would not relight despite the presence of an ignition spark. The conclusion reached was this was due to a gas problem. Whatever about feeling comfortable and knowledgeable about twiddling some wires, dealing with a gas problem is slightly bewildering. So I stubbornly refused to give in and took the fridge out again. The gas flow was sickeningly fine along the inlet pipe. There was no leak detected. I refused to take apart the thermal heater unit, where the gas jet, ignition gun and thermocouple are housed, as I might not be able to put it back together. Of course the only way to know if the fridge is fixed is to reinstall it as described previously. Did this and still no flame. I took the fridge out again with my Spartan tools and this time removed and blew out some rusty debris from the thermal heater unit. Reinstalled it, this time a little faster as I now have a system in place!! Finally got the bugger lit. Unfortunately I am none the wiser, just perhaps a little lucky and a lot stubborn. No jubilation this time. Does anybody know if the gas jet that propels the gas into the thermal heater chamber can deteriorate, say after 20 years and cause a malfunction in normal operation procedures? I know the sensible option would be to take it to a specialist who knows about gas and appliances. We are considering our options regarding the fridge as we are going to run out of camping gaz again, and then we wont be able to use the fridge anyway. We are pondering the possibilities of living through Bulgaria/Greece without a fridge in august. Any ideas?
We Want to Chill
I’m getting my wish to find out how machines work!! Woke up to find one of the precious gas cylinders was empty, so the fridge was turned off automatically. Unfortunately, the piezo ignition was not sending a spark onto the gas jet. Of course the thermal heating unit in the fridge is right at the back. So began an adventure involving me supine lying using a multi tool spanner – one normally not much use except for bike nuts. The lack of space meant that I could only rotate the bolt about 2mm at a time. To make matters worse the carpet was stinking, as a result of leaking water from the fridge door seal. Managed to finally disconnect the gas pipe from the unit and remove the fridge. Gave the ignition cable a twiddle and the spark was back! Tommy the Fixer! Put the unit back in and attempted to get a good seal on the gas inlet pipe, testing it with soapy water and not with a flaming match!!
Ultimately, don’t know why it stopped working.
Ultimately, don’t know why it stopped working.
Krakow revisited
It had been 9 years since I was last in Krakow and I was very keen for it to feature on our route through Poland. Strangely though, while I remember really taking to the city, I had very few memories of much of it’s contents, primarily due I guess to experiencing it through a teenage girls eyes, when there are lots of other very important things going on during school trips…! Either way, I was glad to find it still very appealing, if somewhat busier. Cheap air fares have certainly boosted tourist numbers. There are also now very few Fiat 126’s around, a sight I remember to be very common on my previous trip.
Our first visit was up to Wavel Hill. Even by 10.30am all the tickets had been sold for the day’s tours, however we were quite content just to walk round the castle grounds and courtyards for a while. There is something about the outside of the cathedral which makes it extremely pleasing to look at and it was just nice to enjoy being in its presence. After a while wandering, we headed down and across to the old Jewish quarter, Kazimierz. This area was much quieter, and the resulting atmosphere seemed particularly fitting given its history. Many of the synagogues are now museums, documenting the horrific story of the fate of 30% of Krakows population during WWII. One cemetery was of particular note, as quick thinking residents of the time had managed to bury the entire site so that the advancing Nazis would not loot the graves – not even the dead were spared. We had a lovely meal in a traditional Jewish restaurant with lace tablecloths, well used candlesticks and klezmer music in the background. Delicious thick, dark onion soup to start – yum. After lunch we made our way to the old town centre and re-visited some of my strongest memories. My favourite building, the huge cloth hall was unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your view point) undergoing renovation work and so a large proportion of the main square was cordoned off with high metal fencing. There was also a rehearsal underway on an immense stage that still only took up a small area of the square, and so the air was full of opera (and horses – as they lined up to make the most of the tourists). Tom managed to find his shoe shop "athletes foot" not a name you forget in a hurry, but nothing tempted him on this visit. A loop around the park which surrounds the old fortifications took us back to our pick up point and we were duly taken back to our campsite a few kms out of the city.
Olla-Moats
Our first hostel stay since we left, and what a fine city to chose. A student town, north of Brno, and on the way to Poland. It is a fine old historic town that seems to be mainly off the tourist trail and is mainly populated by heavily subsidised students. We stayed in a hostel called ‘Poet’s Corner’, which may be the nicest hostel I have ever stayed in. Small, friendly, homely, great atmosphere, lots of like minded people, great furniture and owners that want you to get a feel for the town itself. The fact that both L and I have been almost exclusive conversation partners to each other since we left, meant that talking to other people was great, alternatively stimulating, and informative about future destinations. I had forgotten about the benefits of hostelling.
The town itself is fairly small, bespoke with cobbles and ramparts, two fine town squares, a cheesy communist astronomical clock, monuments to the past, plenty of green spaces, a fine cathedral and finer churches. When the Hapsburgs were the emperors in this part of the world, they chose this town as their royal seat and the effect still survives in the buildings that line the twisting streets. Our disorientated arrival was routine, but was made worse by the old layout of the town and one way streets. This is not a level town, nay it is up and down with streets that a Viking would be proud of in their narrow warren likeness. Of course Napoleon took a trip around these streets trying to find somewhere his owners weren’t sure where this was. Plenty of odd looks and big smiles were received on this motorised stroll through town, until we were pulled over by the Policei. We had entered a square from the North, but instead of treating it like a roundabout and going to the right (continental rules!) we went to the left…..at first I thought he was waving in salute to Napoleon, but then I realised. Luckily L was a little faster to react and explained in the old silly tourist trick voice that we were lost. Personally I think it helps that she is not a man, but we escaped with no penalty and sort of helpful directions. We spent a few nights in this town and would recommend both the town and hostel as a place for a good few days holidaying that will be both cheap and memorable, even if you don’t get the opportunity to break the rules of the road.
The town itself is fairly small, bespoke with cobbles and ramparts, two fine town squares, a cheesy communist astronomical clock, monuments to the past, plenty of green spaces, a fine cathedral and finer churches. When the Hapsburgs were the emperors in this part of the world, they chose this town as their royal seat and the effect still survives in the buildings that line the twisting streets. Our disorientated arrival was routine, but was made worse by the old layout of the town and one way streets. This is not a level town, nay it is up and down with streets that a Viking would be proud of in their narrow warren likeness. Of course Napoleon took a trip around these streets trying to find somewhere his owners weren’t sure where this was. Plenty of odd looks and big smiles were received on this motorised stroll through town, until we were pulled over by the Policei. We had entered a square from the North, but instead of treating it like a roundabout and going to the right (continental rules!) we went to the left…..at first I thought he was waving in salute to Napoleon, but then I realised. Luckily L was a little faster to react and explained in the old silly tourist trick voice that we were lost. Personally I think it helps that she is not a man, but we escaped with no penalty and sort of helpful directions. We spent a few nights in this town and would recommend both the town and hostel as a place for a good few days holidaying that will be both cheap and memorable, even if you don’t get the opportunity to break the rules of the road.
Ich bin neun und siebzig…
The next day we did our tourist trip around some of the caves this region is famous for. Very impressive, particularly the Macocha Abyss, a huge hole in the ground 140m deep, and accessible through a network of underground tunnels several kms long. Some were partly flooded, or drained perhaps, to allow for a very limited head room trip back on a narrow boat. The highlight of the day however occurred first thing, just a few hundred yards from our site. We were stopped by the side of the road, as Tom, yet again, attempted to fix the gears on my bike. An old lady, of 79 we later found out, pulled up along side us and requested the loan of our bicycle pump (and Tom’s muscles). Unfortunately it turned out it was not compatible with her 50 year old bike, but she was more than keen for a chat (in far superior German) and told us all about her life and family, the local area and nature, and was also very curious about us and our lives. We knew we would be there for a while as she leaned in against her bike and made herself comfortable, but it was an absolute pleasure talking to her (or listening at least and catching glimpses of what she was saying) and it felt quite sad when we had to part company. Later on in the day as we were cycling the long route home the chain broke on my bike (currently being ridden by Tom as gears now stuck on most difficult setting). As we started pushing the bikes the last 4km home, a friendly Czech guy cycled up behind us and offered to try to fix the chain. This he did and with much gratitude we were on our merry way again. Though I think Tom is quite keen for me to purchase a new set of wheels sooner rather than later, so he can have his own bike back.
The Good Life
Telc, a small town halfway between Praha and Brno invites the tour buses for a few hours to view its perfect square and heavily influenced renaissance style architecture. On first viewing, it appears more like a set from a wild west film, with facades and shop fronts, which stand out with their colours of a different era and formal shaped friezes. The square is also quite long, so a shoot out at dawn wouldn’t stretch the imagination. For me though, the appeal was to cycle around the well marked trails in the Moravian countryside. I am starting to think that there must be a Czech Law which enforces the conversion of orchards into campsites. Certainly makes a summer stay more pleasant, with fresh fruit there for the taking.
Finally managed to get an authentic sense of the friendliness of the people. Despite arriving at the shop during its closed period, the owner still insisted on opening up with a warmth and welcome. When we asked for bread we were met with a sad face, and then she rushed into her kitchen and handed us a half eaten loaf from her own larder. Though very touched by this gesture, we couldn’t take the loaf. Lunch was revised and amended to deal with the loss of bread. We did a fine cycle combined with a grand walk up an 836m small hill! We declared war on the world of flies. The Horseflies out here look different and are larger, even more vicious and unfriendly.
We swapped bikes, for a trial, which is becoming more permanent. Essentially my bike has more gears and I prefer the challenge of cycling up 15% slopes in 12th gear than L. Yes, no more bike walking for me. Alas, I missed my suspension and brakes, when I went flying over a trailhead and down a very rocky downhill, still it was good to get the shot of adrenaline which helped me survive.
Find myself continuously marvelling at the amount of old Skodas and Ladas holding their own on the roads. They have that classic car shape as drawn by young boys, with a solid simple design and probably simple enough mechanics as well. Makes you wonder about the continuous drive of the market to recreate the motorcar. We could probably learn a few things from communism regarding waste. I am finding myself more and more wanting to understand the workings of machines. Perhaps a course will be booked on my return. Timber works are widespread, as are allotment sized vegetable gardens. Sampled some of the local funghi – ‘Chicken of the Forest’ – it looks highly toxic and doesn’t taste of anything. Though the foraging books recommend cooking it in a casserole and I cooked it in an omelette.
Our stay finished with me failing to tame some wild kittens and the purchase of some locally made wine and honey -: solid white honey which tastes divine and cheap as chips.
On the face of it, all seems quite an attractive way of life. Hmm, how to own a campsite, orchard, wild kittens, beehives and vineyard? Perhaps Felicity will drop by too.
Finally managed to get an authentic sense of the friendliness of the people. Despite arriving at the shop during its closed period, the owner still insisted on opening up with a warmth and welcome. When we asked for bread we were met with a sad face, and then she rushed into her kitchen and handed us a half eaten loaf from her own larder. Though very touched by this gesture, we couldn’t take the loaf. Lunch was revised and amended to deal with the loss of bread. We did a fine cycle combined with a grand walk up an 836m small hill! We declared war on the world of flies. The Horseflies out here look different and are larger, even more vicious and unfriendly.
We swapped bikes, for a trial, which is becoming more permanent. Essentially my bike has more gears and I prefer the challenge of cycling up 15% slopes in 12th gear than L. Yes, no more bike walking for me. Alas, I missed my suspension and brakes, when I went flying over a trailhead and down a very rocky downhill, still it was good to get the shot of adrenaline which helped me survive.
Find myself continuously marvelling at the amount of old Skodas and Ladas holding their own on the roads. They have that classic car shape as drawn by young boys, with a solid simple design and probably simple enough mechanics as well. Makes you wonder about the continuous drive of the market to recreate the motorcar. We could probably learn a few things from communism regarding waste. I am finding myself more and more wanting to understand the workings of machines. Perhaps a course will be booked on my return. Timber works are widespread, as are allotment sized vegetable gardens. Sampled some of the local funghi – ‘Chicken of the Forest’ – it looks highly toxic and doesn’t taste of anything. Though the foraging books recommend cooking it in a casserole and I cooked it in an omelette.
Our stay finished with me failing to tame some wild kittens and the purchase of some locally made wine and honey -: solid white honey which tastes divine and cheap as chips.
On the face of it, all seems quite an attractive way of life. Hmm, how to own a campsite, orchard, wild kittens, beehives and vineyard? Perhaps Felicity will drop by too.
The campsite that never was
Our next planned destination was Brno, the Czech Republic’s second city. Our trusty ACSI list informed us the closest campsite was 10km up river situated on the banks of a reservoir, sounds nice huh? And I’m sure it was, however it appears it is no longer there. One thing we can say with certainty, is that it is not up the red marked trail which continues on beyond where the road itself ends. We can also reliably state that performing turns in the road (or path) with a steep drop one side and jagged rock face the other is no mean feat (well done Tom). Feeling thoroughly fed up with Bruno already, before we had really seen any of it, we changed our plan and headed a few days earlier than planned to Sloup (what a fabulous name) and into the Moravian Karst Region just NE of Bruno.
The campsite was located up a lane, right next to the local football ground, and it seemed the whole village was there to support (we think it was a home win too, but the owner seemed to suggest that the after-celebrations would take place irrespective of the final score). Tom went off foraging again and had a salad of dandelion leaves, poppy petals and clover flowers. He also identified camomile, sweet Cecily, burdock and tansy growing around the site.
Cesky (Pesky) Krumlov
A must see town, according to all the tour books, which mildly indicates the popularity of this ‘little Praha’. Much flouted for being an intact medieval city, it is awash with tours and tourists alike, all racing for the castle. The charm of the place is still there, cobbled streets, minimum vehicle usage of roads, a strong sense of the past, and not just in the awful costumes and displays that seem to be everywhere, but in the buildings and their exteriors. We cycled into town from our campsite, 5 km downstream. A campsite that was immensely popular with those kayak-camping along the river. They load all their gear into waterproof, sealable containers which they carry in their boats. The containers can also be used (badly) as drums when drunk!!
We didn’t complete a tour of the castle there, as we had completed one in Praha, so after wandering around the town and looking inside some of the fine buildings, we cycled back to the campsite and had a game of Boules. Watched some Czech kids play haki sak. These guys were quite skilled at it, in comparison to myself, a few fancy tricks were being shown off. Glad to have a game of something though, and of course to win.
We didn’t complete a tour of the castle there, as we had completed one in Praha, so after wandering around the town and looking inside some of the fine buildings, we cycled back to the campsite and had a game of Boules. Watched some Czech kids play haki sak. These guys were quite skilled at it, in comparison to myself, a few fancy tricks were being shown off. Glad to have a game of something though, and of course to win.
Camping for 75p!
Having bought a walking map of the Sumava National Park, we located a municipal campsite to try first, in the vicinity of Mount Boubin. When we got there we were greeted by a jolly old man suited in short trousers and a hat complete with feather requesting 30 Krone (about 75p) to camp in his little car park. The ‘facilities’ consisted of a tap, a bin and a few huts covering deep pits (some deeper than others, the deeper the better I found) but for 75p you could hardly complain. We ended up staying there 2 nights, albeit a rather cold, damp experience as both nights we were able to make our breath condense on the windows. In a rather lucky window between storm fronts we managed to climb Mt Boubin at 1362m. If you had the energy for a little more, a wooden tower on top took you up above tree line to appreciate amazing views of the forest stretching out in every direction. We spent much of the time trying to catch glimpses of the black woodpecker we could hear, but seldom see for long enough to get a good view. The woods were also full of ring ouzels who were happy to pose for photos so we could identify them later. Our main impression of the area was that of a heavy presence of a large scale logging industry. The valleys were often filled with the sound of distant chain saws, and every few hundred meters along the track, piles of logs lay stacked and sorted waiting to be collected by the huge tractors rumbling through the forest. While patches of the landscape looked more like a scene of devastation rather than national park, it was clear that new trees were also being planted and protected. We didn’t manage to see any deer as we’d hoped, but most of the houses we passed in the area were adorned with antlers, so we knew they must be in there somewhere, they’d perhaps just learnt wisely to keep a safe distance away from humans.
Napoleon Feels the Heat
A border crossing on a bank holiday, are you mad? Yes, your honour, but we didn’t know there was one. After 45 minutes of slowly, stop-starting towards the border, Napoleon became pyrexic. With a fever brewing, he started to gurgle and deliver smoke from the bonnet. This was on a downhill. With the engine turned off, we attempted to free-wheel down. As a new driver – I was about to get some more learning’s. That the brakes don’t work without the hydraulics of the engine, or the foot brake gradually seizes up. So we recklessly did handbrakes all the way to the border. With a temperature well over 100 degrees, Napoleon spluttered into life, nodded his guten tags and gradually cooled down.
Is this normal for a 20 year old to overheat so much? His coolant levels are fine and are regularly checked. Any suggestions are welcome. If in queues now, I tend to ride in neutral and use the gradient where possible.
Is this normal for a 20 year old to overheat so much? His coolant levels are fine and are regularly checked. Any suggestions are welcome. If in queues now, I tend to ride in neutral and use the gradient where possible.
A very long day
11 days after leaving England our gas supplies were running low, but we had taken comfort from internet research assuring us gas exchange was common at most petrol stations across the Czech Republic and that International Campingaz, our chosen fuel, was widely available across Europe. Several petrol stations later we began to have serious doubts. Gas cylinders were indeed exchanged, just not our type. Then one place we got lucky, an English speaking lady was behind us during our linguistic/gesturing attempts to convey our plight and she informed us that the sales assistants were telling us they have never seen campingaz in this country – try Germany! Despite feeling a bit of a step backwards, as our destination for the day was only a few dozen kms from the border we decided this might not be a bad suggestion, of course what we hadn’t reckoned on was the "ferein tag" or bank holiday im Deutschland. This we discovered after several more frustrating hours finding everywhere closed. At dusk came an inspiration and we eventually found a campsite just outside Passau that had gas – hurray! Too late to return to Czech we spent the night back among giant motorhomes, with their satellite dishes and automatic awning and re-crossed the border the next morning.
All the People
Back to the orchard campsite. It is funny to spend four days in Praha, and yet only visit the city twice!! Praha became a pit stop to recharge the batteries and soak up the simple everyday delights of not sight seeing or walking the heels off. We became trusted lodgers with our Campsite Landlady, who insisted on calling Laura –‘Madam’ and leaving us the keys to her kingdom. Although it seems to defeat the purpose of travelling and seeing new sights, and living new experiences, the attractions of the familiar on a journey bespoke with the unfamiliar are all too compelling. Or at least once every so often, a holiday from the holiday is required. So we decorated this orchard with blues, reds, oranges and other colours with our washing. We even managed to perform a late spring clean. I also battled with iTunes!!! Prior to leaving London, I moved my library to the external hard drive, and loaded all our music on board. Disaster struck somehow, when my computer or I inadvertently renamed my hard drive from E to F. So iTunes could not find the music. I tried all sorts of tricks, but none worked. Eventually I reloaded all music folders and then went through all to remove the various duplicates. Perhaps I misspent my time in Praha. I think a lesson I am being learnt is to try and understand more about machines, in order to prevent them controlling me.
I find it hard to leave behind the old ways, the schemes and the little cheats, such as not paying for a fare here and there!! I noticed that few people seemed to have the prebought tickets for the Trams in this gothic city. Despite there being warnings galore about non-uniformed inspectors and the penalty charges there was a paucity of vending machines. At times it would have been a lot easier to break the law and ride for free, feel the exhilaration of getting away with a little cheat. Alas, Praha so beautiful, but so popular with so many. With crowds, it becomes a bit tricky to see all the beauty much remarked upon. I found myself walking as if on the busy streets of Brixton, with hardened elbows and widened shoulders, ready for contact. Oh the hardships of being a tourist. I sympathise with the inhabitants of such places, who have to face this onslaught daily. The Lonely Planet recommends sleeping during the day and visiting the towns architectural delights in the waking hours of the morning! Any takers? It was here that the spectacle of tiny digital camera with massive tripod was glimpsed and amazed at. It seems to defeat the object of having a mini camera if you are wont to use such an unwieldy platform.
Sampled some more of the traditional food of Bohemia, plenty of meat, generally smoked flavours, and the sauerkraut variations and served with breadlike dumplings and lashings of gravy. The pivo is going down a treat, and so cheap.
So, we left the city and headed south. Well, we left and re-entered the city, rode anxiously along narrow streets with a tram tailgating me briefly. Yet again a city seemed to have hypnotized and dazzled our orientation. Still, we managed to glimpse a different side to Praha, than the highly manicured one seen by most.
Briefly watched a Czech version of Irish Dancing. However, they had replaced the traditional dress with one resembling a cheer leader’s. A slightly surreal sight in Vaclavsky Namesti. God bless River Dance.
I find it hard to leave behind the old ways, the schemes and the little cheats, such as not paying for a fare here and there!! I noticed that few people seemed to have the prebought tickets for the Trams in this gothic city. Despite there being warnings galore about non-uniformed inspectors and the penalty charges there was a paucity of vending machines. At times it would have been a lot easier to break the law and ride for free, feel the exhilaration of getting away with a little cheat. Alas, Praha so beautiful, but so popular with so many. With crowds, it becomes a bit tricky to see all the beauty much remarked upon. I found myself walking as if on the busy streets of Brixton, with hardened elbows and widened shoulders, ready for contact. Oh the hardships of being a tourist. I sympathise with the inhabitants of such places, who have to face this onslaught daily. The Lonely Planet recommends sleeping during the day and visiting the towns architectural delights in the waking hours of the morning! Any takers? It was here that the spectacle of tiny digital camera with massive tripod was glimpsed and amazed at. It seems to defeat the object of having a mini camera if you are wont to use such an unwieldy platform.
Sampled some more of the traditional food of Bohemia, plenty of meat, generally smoked flavours, and the sauerkraut variations and served with breadlike dumplings and lashings of gravy. The pivo is going down a treat, and so cheap.
So, we left the city and headed south. Well, we left and re-entered the city, rode anxiously along narrow streets with a tram tailgating me briefly. Yet again a city seemed to have hypnotized and dazzled our orientation. Still, we managed to glimpse a different side to Praha, than the highly manicured one seen by most.
Briefly watched a Czech version of Irish Dancing. However, they had replaced the traditional dress with one resembling a cheer leader’s. A slightly surreal sight in Vaclavsky Namesti. God bless River Dance.
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