July 7 & 8: Southern Bohemia

The weekend of July 7 & 8 we spent in several towns of southern Bohemia. Before you go humming Puccini's La Boheme or belting out the title song to RENT--let me clarify a bit about the geography of the Czech Republic. Bohemia is not made up. Bohemia is not a country. And Bohemia is not a city somewhere tucked away in central Europe. It's one of two main regions that comprise the Czech Republic. Bohemia, often referenced in tragically artisic stories (ala La Boheme or RENT) is in the Western half of the Czech Republic with Prague at its heart. The other is Moravia, a generally more religious and argicultural region in the East of which Brno is the capital city. We were in the Bohemia region, in the southern half.

We spent the first half of Friday afternoon in the main town of the southern region, Ceske Budejovice. It was a very quaint town, as most are. It played a large role as a trading town and a burgeoning urban center in the 14th century and became crucial to mining and currency production later in the 16th century. To be honest, our time here was quite brief and not terribly exciting. I feel awful saying that, as I, in my dorkish ways, find almost everything fascinating. However, I did enjoy the town tower: both its views and quad-building spiral staircase. Built in 1553, it towered (hah) over the town and countryside allowing you to see the entire village and out for several miles into the rolling hills. I nearly lost my hearing on the trip down, as an ancient bell decided to ring for what seemed like eternity. Novel? Yes of course. But also quite painful.

Ceske Budejovice:




After one of our infamously long lunches, we made our way to one of the most picturesque and memorable small towns we would go to the whole trip.

Wedged in the middle of the mountains and overlooked by a beautiful castle--Cesky Krumlov was something out of a storybook. The Vlatava River, its larger leg running through Prague, laced through the town making it possible to canoe, raft, and kayak in its babbling waters. Every little cobbled-stoned street seemed to hold another little nook to explore with cute shops or a cozy restaurant. I think the whole group fell collectively in love with it the moment we entered its square.

Beautiful little town.






When we arrived in this Uneseco World Heritige site, it was obvious that it was a popular small town. And for good reason. My favorite was our trip up to the castle, its theatre, and beautiful gardens. The castle was built in the 18th century and was home to the Lords of Krumlov and later the prominent Rosenberg family. Three centuries later, the Habsbursgs became the new royal family. With all of these family changes came also significant changes in style throughout the castle's existence--from gothic, to reniassance, to baroque. The most interesting to me is the shift from the plain gothic exteriors to the muraled walls of the reniassance. Instead of rebuilding a new and more decorative facade, painters were hired to create an exterior that looked 3-d. Instead of making a small alcove for a statue--it was painted on. Don't waste all that money making a symmetrical window--just grab a sharpie. Who needs bricks when you have a can of paint and a ruler? These elaborate murals were quite unique and fully restored. A reniassance exterior overlaying a gothic core--it was amazing.

A realistic reniassance mural.


A cute Krumlov house. (I think my mom would like it)


But my absolute favorite? The baroque theatre. It was stunning and its historical value was remarkable. As one of the oldest and most preserved barque theatres in the world (second only to one in Sweden), it had an impressive collection of props, scenes, costumes, and machinery to put on some very posh royal productions. The stage and scenery that was up resembled a large palace hallway--the optical illusion that was created using angles, light, and various spacing and sizing of stage pieces made it seem like the hallway went for about 40 meters. But in actuality, the stage was more like 10-15 deep with a sloping ceiling and narrowing walls. The time spent to create such manipulations is really awe-inspiring. Theatre performances went on for 6 hours and more, with an ever-changing backdrop and props of all sizes controlled in its pulley-filled underbelly. Live music and sound effects accompanied the performances and made them even more life-like. It took weeks of painstaking work to put on a performance, and if the king didn't like it--he'd leave mid-way. Back to the drawing board, as actors, musicians, technicians and costumers prepared another elaborate play. And we thought high school musicals were difficult!

The stage, before we were told photography was banned--better pictures online.


Beyond that, this was a day when women weren't allowed to grace the stage. Men played the female roles and the most prestigious and respected actors were often the castrati. Castrated as young boys, these men trained rigourously to perfect their abilities to play women on stage. Their voices were praised as angelic and pure--and these act of dropping the ball(s) (I had to...) continued on to some early boys choirs. Now it is definitely illegal--and as you can see--women can do their own acting, thank you very much.

If you are interested in this baroque theatre and want to waste some time (in an educational fashion)--go to this website. It is fascinating. In particular, check out the machinery, costume, and scenes sections. http://www.ckrumlov.cz/uk/zamek/5nadvori/i_bd.htm

After a some shopping, Robin and I split off from the group to have vegetarian food. Our carnivore friends weren't as excited by the promise of hommus in a dimly lit, stone cafe. We loved it. As I have been on a constant quest for hommus since I have been in the Czech Republic (don't even try the grocery stores...it is hopeless), I was really excited. We stuffed our faces with lentils, hommus, and blueberry and yogurt dumplings on handmade ceramic dishes. On top of our little table sat a bunch of wildflowers and beneath crawled a small dog. Possibly one of my favorite dining experiences to date.



After a few bars to protect ourselves from the rain, we went back to the hotel to sleep before our last town--Trebon.

Trebon is a cute little town, but our primary interest was its brewery. We took a tour of the Regent factory led by a cute old man plagued by a bit of timidity when it came to English. I couldn't help but admire him as he explained to us the interworkings of the factory, weaving us through the pipes and basins, showing us their prized hops. Smelling much like a frat house that was allowed to fester after a kegger, we eventually made it to the most anticipated part--the tasting. Plastic cups were passed, and we lined up in the cold basement of the factory. We had about three different types of beer--including their most alcholic. Some stealthily snuck for a second serving, and others sipped slowly. All and all, it was a blast, besides the singing drunk girl in the back of the bus.





The only lowpoint was the loss of a dear friend, Grasshopper (the Giraffe). He was left, unfortunately, at our hotel. On the upside, he will be returned before the end of the trip. A gift from Jeffrey, I do miss him a little and he does make an excellent pillow friend. However, I have faith he will return. I just fear his emotional trauma...being abandoned in a foreign country and having a built-in identity crisis (Grasshopper or Giraffe?) is a situation just begging for therapy. Hopefully they won't call social services. At least I felt just as ridiculous as a twenty-year old woman asking my director to find my lost stuffed giraffe--karma's a bitch.



Ah...C'est la vie.
And..La vie Boheme.