Hike along the newly restored Greenways routes to enjoy the beauty of the Bohemian wilderness – and earn a welcome beer at the end of each day
DAVID FARLEY THE border between the Czech Republic and Austria is less than a mile away when an old man mysteriously appears in the middle of the leafy one-lane road. A generation ago, he might have been shot for being this close to the former buffer zone of the Iron Curtain. "Dobry den," I say, wishing him a good day. But he just stands there in frozen silence, a you're-not-from-these-parts look on his face. So I soldier on, merrily continuing on my scenic hike through the Bohemian woods.
During the Cold War, this slice of Central Europe was verboten to anyone but residents of a few ancient villages and the guards patrolling the frontier. The Czechoslovakian government cleared the buffer zone of locals and populated it with card-carrying members of the communist party. That might explain why, two decades after the Berlin Wall fell, a haunted stillness hangs over this coniferous landscape of low-rolling hills. It is also a reason why the network of hiking and biking trails in the hills of southern Bohemia remain among the continent's most pristine and untrammelled.
The Czechs, known for their prowess in making beer and playing hockey, are also a nation of prolific hikers. Etched throughout this central European country are nearly 24,000 miles of colour-coded hiking trails, stretching from Karlovy Vary in the northwest to Ostrava in the east. Much of it is maintained by the Czech Hiking Club, a private organisation dating back to 1889 that splashes painted trail markers across trees and installs signposts.
With so many trails to explore, how does a non-Czech hiker choose the right route? For my wife Jessie and me, the answer is simple. We will spend five days walking the Czech Greenways, a 250-mile network of old trading routes between Prague and Vienna that have recently been restored.
We decide to start halfway between the two capitals, in the picturesque, Unesco-protected south-western town of Cesky Krumlov, and head east and north-east about 80 miles to the medieval town of Slavonice, about a mile from the Austrian border. The hike offers a mix of gorgeous baroque towns, varied terrain and a dose of history in a part of the country that tourists rarely see.
It's mid-May as we set out, on a cold morning when the majestic castle of Cesky Krumlov casts a long shadow over the town's quiet cobblestoned streets. We have packed enough clothes for two days, bandages (for blisters) and several detailed maps of southern Bohemia. Then we climb aboard a bus.
Although we will cover most of the trail on foot, the cheap and efficient Czech bus system means we can hop on to keep the daily hikes under 25 miles. The idea is to hit the trail early in the morning, so we can arrive at our destination for a late lunch and spend the remainder of the day sightseeing.
The bus takes us over the steep surrounding hills and deposits us 15 miles away, in Kaplice, a tiny town at the foot of the Novohradske mountains. We find a red-and-white-striped trail marker in the town centre that lead us up a dirt path. Within minutes, we are hiking through dense pine forests and skirting yellow-poppy-filled prairies, so bright and expansive that it almost gives me vertigo.
About five hours and eight miles later, we enter Benesov nad Cernou, a village that is little more than a square with a yellow-and-white church at one end. Later, we celebrate our first day of hiking in one of the town's two noisy pubs. We wash down plates of svickova (roasted tenderloin slathered in gravy and topped with a dollop of cream and cranberries) with pints of Budweiser Budvar (the Czech version) while mustachioed men chain-smoke and scream at a football match on TV.
The next couple of days take us through wildly diverse terrain that includes two 2,600-ft-high mountains and a park dotted with oak trees and empty fortresses. In Nove Hrady, a hilltop town with a leafy square, we stay in a monastery that was once used to house border guards. We stride through sleepy villages where the only sound is the echo of a football bouncing off a stone wall.
Trebon, where we spend our third night, is more dynamic. This town of nearly 9,000 people is the perfect rest stop after a trek of some 22 miles through swamps, pine forests and deer-filled prairies. The town has a small castle, an irregularly shaped square flanked by colourful baroque apartment blocks, a spa and a warren of winding lanes – all encircled by thick walls.
But we had not come here to sightsee. Trebon is famous for the Bohemia Regent Brewery, which has been making fabulous beer since 1379. After checking into our hotel – a quiet pension just outside the walls – we make our way to the brewery's pub, where we sit on the terrace chatting with a man named Jiri, who tells us about his escape to France during the Cold War. As the sun sets, we nurse pints of opaque, orange-hued beer, a special unfiltered brew sold only here, and raise a toast to getting halfway through our hike.
We spend the rest of the day exploring another of Trebon's oddities. Just outside the town walls are artificial lakes teeming with carp. Some people call carp river scum; the good people of Trebon, however, call them dinner.
We end up at Supinka, a surprisingly chic restaurant that serves carp in just about every conceivable way: fried, seared and poached; sprinkled with paprika, marinated in soy sauce, drenched in chilli or topped with garlic sauce.
For our final day, we take a bus from Jindrichuv Hradec to Nova Bystrice, about 15 miles from our finish line. A black dog trails us out of Nova Bystrice until we reach the village of Klaster, which is little more than its namesake – a large white cloister in the middle of a huge meadow. About five miles later, we pass the imposing Landstejn castle, then hike through dense fern-blanketed pine forest. I half expect to see a troll or a gnome. Instead, we come across several igloo-like concrete bunkers, many of which are camouflaged with earth and tree branches.
These bunkers, it turns out, were built from 1935 to 1938 to guard the Czechoslovakian border against invasion by Hitler. But during the Cold War, they served the opposite function: to prevent local citizens from escaping to the West. This might explain why the area feels spooky, as if we are trespassing on sacred ground.
As we pass the final bunker, the Renaissance-era bell tower of Slavonice comes into view. We trudge through a neighbourhood of 19th-century houses and through one of Slavonice's medieval stone gates. The tiny town looks like it hasn't changed in two centuries, with triangular piazzas lined with old Renaissance buildings painted with colourful, comic-strip-like biblical scenes. Back in the 15th century, Slavonice was a common stopover on the Prague-to-Vienna trade route. Today, it has become a magnet for artists and bohemians from Prague.
And, of course, it is also attracting visitors like us, looking for a cheap place to stay and a friendly pub in which to rest our weary feet and nurse a sudsy beer after an 80-mile Bohemian hike. We put down our backpacks and head for the first bar we see.
Fact file: BohemiaBUSES and trains leave Prague regularly for Cesky Krumlov (trains require a change in Ceske Budejovice). Check schedules at
www.idos.cz.
Log on to
www.myprague.net for flights and other travel information.
WEEKEND PASS
Castle Venlaw HotelEdinburgh Road, Peebles
(01721 720384,
www.venlaw.co.uk)
SET in four acres of woodland above Peebles, Castle Venlaw is a quiet retreat from the bustle of the city and in an ideal location for trips out to explore the rolling hills and picturesque countryside of the Scottish Borders. Recently upgraded by a new owner, the hotel has benefited from a massive interior renovation.
How do you get there? The hotel is up a steep drive just north of Peebles town centre.
What's the food like? Consistently rated one of the best places to eat in the area, the hotel restaurant has won two AA Rosettes for the past four years. The dining-room is warm and romantic and boasts expansive views over the valley below. The restaurant fashions its menu around locally sourced and seasonal ingredients, such as salmon from the River Tweed and roast rack of Borders lamb.
Bed test The hotel has 12 individually furnished en-suite rooms, five of which have four-poster beds – perfect for a stay in an 18th-century castle. The bed in the Glenturret suite is so large you probably wouldn't mind sharing it with a partner who kicks or snores during the night.
Out and about The hotel's lovely grounds are well worth exploring, and it's just a stroll down to the centre of Peebles. This little town has a top-notch range of independent shops, a reputation for marvellous flowers in the spring and an acclaimed jazz festival. The River Tweed is a popular spot for fishing and birdwatching, and the countryside is criss-crossed with hiking trails. The hotel can even set up an exclusive mountain-biking package for you, complete with energy-boosting shakes in the morning, instruction during the day and a debriefing from professional riders in the evening.
Little extras The library bar, complete with log fire, dark panelling and shelves of leather-bound books, is the ideal place to enjoy a glass of wine in the evening. But if you really want to relax, our suite's double bathtub with luxurious sea salts and a sprinkle of fibre-optic stars overhead was perfect after a long day outdoors. I also appreciated the fact that well-behaved pets are welcome and guests are able to watch movies from the hotel's DVD collection at no charge.
The bottom line In July, B&B for a deluxe room starts at £93.50 per person, per night including VAT. If you want to upgrade to the Glenturret suite, prices increase by £50 per person. Dinner is an additional £25 a head. You can take advantage of many special offers and last-minute deals by checking online or signing up to the hotel's mailing list.
Samantha Novick
The full article contains 1793 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
