Cesky Krumlov doesn’t sound like the name of a picturesque old town, but excepting the title, it’s adorable. A preserved UNESCO World Heritage Site, it’s similar to Bruges in its bite-sized quaintness.
All the guides say that it’s less crowded in the evening, after the day trippers leave (very true), so I made a night of it last weekend, taking a RegioJet bus down from Prague on Sunday afternoon and returning Monday evening. The ride is a bit long for a day, at three hours, but the bus was surprisingly comfortable for 7 euros each way, with leather seats, drinks for purchase, and an on-board restroom.
The bus stop is set just outside of the city center, and to walk into town, you climb up a short, forested hill. At the top is the first view of Cesky Krumlov, and from that initial moment, the city did not disappoint.
The town is similar to Prague, with its red-tiled roofs, a castle at the focus of every vista, and the Vltava River winding through. But I find it sweeter in miniature, and I love the vibrant colors of the castle and church spires.
I got to town around 6 pm, with just enough time to check into the hotel and walk around a bit before dinner at Papa’s Living Restaurant, where I had a table by the river and finally got the sizzling beef tagliata I’ve been trying and failing to order for the last six weeks. (Groups! One of the joys of solo travel for me is getting exactly what I want–there’s no one with whom you have to negotiate or compromise.) It was as good as I’d imagined.
I spent the evening at the theatre–the revolving theatre, to be precise. It’s a bit hard to describe, but let me try. The theatre is open air, in the gardens of the castle. It’s a large disc, essentially (see photo below), so the audience is seated all on one side. The entire contraption, the theatre in which the audience sits, can rotate 360 degrees. There’s no stage per se, though there are a few sets built in various spots on the ground surrounding the seats, as well as one permanent structure that serves for some of the interior scenes. So we’d face one way, watch a scene, and then the theatre would rotate to a different point of view for the next scene. And occasionally the seats would rotate to track action; they drove a real-life horse and carriage in at one point, and the theatre moved along with the horses.
It was fascinating enough to keep me occupied through The Hound of the Baskervilles in Czech! The only words I understood were hello, thank you, and Sherlock Holmes. But while I wish they would have been staging opera or ballet, something more universal, I’d go see just about anything there to experience the lovely outdoor setting and unique staging.
By the time I trekked back down the hill–the walk up to the theater is not for the infirm–it was past 11 pm, and it seemed the only people walking through town were the ones who had also gone to the theater–all in pairs, mind you. (It seems only fair in counterbalance to the above raving about solo travel that I do get a slight twinge when everyone else in arm-in-arm, and I’m the only one trudging forward alone.)
I stayed at the Hotel Ruze, originally a 16th-century monastery. Its origins still show; the hallway sitting area was decorated with a rather intense religious theme, the room featured dark wood and heavy drapery, and the toilet was a literal throne. Pictured at right so you believe me.
The next morning threatened rain, so I had breakfast crepes at MLS and then strolled through the Egon Schiele Art Centrum. The art won’t astound you, but they had a couple interesting exhibits by lesser-known artists, and the space itself was a beautiful mix of old and new architecture. The skies had cleared by the time I was done, and I crossed the river to the less populated side of town (the tour groups are out in full force during the day) and spent a quiet hour in a park.
I was planning to sit in this pretty gazebo I could see from my hotel window, but when I got there, I discovered it was a little grungy, with graffiti, cigarettes, booze bottles, and unidentified puddles…I opted for a bench under a tree instead. It amused me, though, as a lesson in the ideal versus the real while traveling. Even charming villages have their dingy corners.
If I’d had a little more time and/or slightly better weather, I would have gone for the full castle tour–there’s a baroque theater and real live bears!–or rented a kayak to go down the river, as I saw many doing. But it was a welcome break from Prague and a delightful 24 hours.
