A day in Český Krumlov.

After a few days in Prague I began looking for additional places to visit. I had heard about how Prague was a small city and after a few days amidst the tourist crowds I was looking to get away. After searching on Google, I came across Český Krumlov, a few hours south of the city near the border with Austria. It looked like a cute respite from the city and so I booked a bus ticket. I had originally thought of it as a day trip, but after realizing it’d take about three hours each way, I decided to book a hotel room for the night.

I slept off and on on the ride, opening my eyes to see the passing fields and towns, surprised when we started to pull into town. At first, it didn’t seem to be quite as pictaresque as I had imagined. I alighted and then checked the map, taking a road that led further up a hill to a viewpoint overlooking the city. And then, there it was. An almost fairytale view, with the round spire of the castle lording over the town.

I walked along the road to the entrace of the historic old quarter. With each step I became more and more enchanted. The cobble stone streets led me to the main square, where my hotel stood. Looking down various streets and alleys I could see the spire of the Church of St. Vitus or the castle tower. I quickly checked in and dropped off my bags so I could continue my explorations.

I made my way from the square towards the castle, crossing the Vltava to start my climb up to the ramparts. The town itself rests against a curve of the river; it’s almost completely surrounded save for a narrow connection to the mainland. Turned on its side, the historic center looks a little bit like a tonsil.

Inside the castle I climbed up past the various courtyards and buildings to the gardens beyond, pausing now and again to admire the views of the town below. From the ramparts I could see people in canoes paddling down the river. I hadn’t realized that that was an activity one could do and lamented the fact that I hadn’t the time to do it myself.

I reached the gardens at the far end of the buildings. I made my way through and around them, admiring the landscaping and the fountains as I crunched the gravel underfoot.

At the far end of the manicured garden I reached a pond that had been let to grow. It was almost more beautiful for the wild nature that had been preserved. I circumambulated it and then began to retrace my steps back towards the castle as it was the edge of the grounds and there was nowhere else to go.

I walked different paths on my way back, through the same grounds but on another side of them to appreciate another aspect of them.

At the edge of the garden a small area afforded a sweeping view of the town. I stood along the edge of the stone wall and gazed over the red rooftops before descended along a path that ran behind the castle.

After reaching the river level, I looked back to look at the bridge connecting the different parts of the castle. The arches reminded me of a Roman aqueduct, the different figures peering through the openings like mini muppets in the opening sequence of The Muppet Show.

For lunch I stopped by a restaurant off the main square recommended by the hotel. I had hoped to dine al fresco, but the tables were full. Inside, there was barely a spot for me as well. The waitress seated me at the only available table, by the fire. I watched as my food and the food of the people around me was grilled, mesmerized by the flame.

After lunch I decided to explore the southern side of the town, crossing the river to the south, past the Church of St. Vitus towards the Český Krumlov Synagogue.

I ducked into the synagogue to take a look at its interior before continuing to explore the town.

As I made my way back towards the bridge to the historic center I passed an old sign for the Museum Fotoatelier Seidel, the former studio and home of Josef Seidel, a photographer considered the uncrowned king of Šumava photographers. I was intrigued and rang the bell to be let in. A woman appeared at the door, barefoot, and bade me enter. She sold me a ticket, gave me a headset for the audio tour, told me that there might be someone in shooting in the studio but that it should be clear by the time I made my way up there, and bid me adieu.

As I listened to the the tour and roamed the house, my favorite two areas were the attic, which was used as storage, and the studio which had extraordinary light.

Back in town, I strolled along now-familiar streets to soak in the sights and the sounds and to take a few more pictures of the town I had fallen in love with completely.

At night, the town quiets down. The day trippers disappear and the streets empty. I watched the main square from the window of my hotel room and listened to the church bells chime the hour and then I was outside, drawn to follow the steps I had taken during the day to rediscover the town by night.

I climbed the steep cobblestone steps back into the castle, crossing paths with but a couple here and there. At times it felt I had the entire space to myself.

From the ramparts I once again looked down upon the town, this time under cover of night. The lights bathed the town in an orange glow, the houses like sculptures of homes set in a diaorama.

I followed the path up towards the gardens then turned and took the path I had taken earlier in the day to return to the river and the square. It was getting late and so I returned to the hotel. Upon reaching my room, I decided to spend another night. I wanted to canoe down the river. I wanted to take a tour of the castle. I wanted to soak in the atmosphere just a little longer, for as long as I could. 🇨🇿