The Writer's Life: Film & Book Reviews, Observations, and Stories
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Cesky Krumlov

Getting bus tickets to Cesky Krumlov proved a daunting task. I couldn’t get beyond the error messages on the Student Agency website. Most of the buses seemed fully booked. So we went to the large bus terminal opposite the Vlatava and found there was no office there—which required a trip back across town to Florenc. We finally did manage to get tickets for 7:00 a.m. the next morning. Thing was the bus broke down about fifty kilometers from our destination, leaving the Chinese tourists on our bus in a panic. We were saved half an hour later by another bus, though smaller than the original, so the hostess had to stand. Natually, when we got to our destination—a perfectly preserved medievel town—it began to drizzle, so we had cake and coffee at the hotel, soaked in the gigantic tub in our suite, and read Hrabal in translation. Before sunset we walked through the castle complex to the gardens in back, which were even more outstanding than those in the Wallenstein in Prague. For dinner we went to the Barbakan, a strictly meat and potatoes kind of place, whose chef-owner plied me with the strongest after-dinner drink I’ve ever had in my life. It made the preceding slivovice seem tame by comparison. I got the impression he already had more than one himself.

1 comment

1 Sister Mary { 10.19.11 at 10:42 am }

Interesting day to look back on.