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Published: April 8th 2010
"Path"
The trees were a lot lower than this as well.At half four in the morning I was roused from my sleep by one of the usual weird 30 minute long ambient soundscapes they play on Rádio 1 in the nether hours, and soon after I was walking through a different kind of ambient soundscape, the Řepy dawn chorus which sometimes accompanies me on my way to work, feeling ready for a long, long trek. Then negotiating the sparse Prague transport system as it too wakes up, and later at hlavní nádrazí as the sun rose, collapsing into a seat on the ridiculously timed one Pendolino per day from Prague to Brno, at half 6. At this time Jitka was probably waking up herself and making her way from Zlín to Brno, where we met, and got back onto another train going back up to Blansko, then a packed bus through the town to a village on its outskirts, Těchov.
Back to my title, Blansko, the capital seat of this district, was possibly one of the direst
Macocha
from the top viewing platform towns I have ever been to, just a 10km2 area filled with that lovely communist shade of reinforced concrete and not much else, so that would be the great hole at the end of the world. However the surrounding countryside is wondrous, and has always caught my attention when travelling down the corridor from Prague to Brno - steep rocky cliff faces on the banks of winding streams, pits and rock pools, covered with the wildest forest you might imagine. The great hole we were aiming for, however, carried the more literal meaning of the word "hole". The nature of the landscape here provides a home to the lowest point in the Czech Republic, at 136 metres below sea level, a pit named Macocha from which the river Punkva emerges from a vast network of caves.
When we arrived at Těchov, we took a "path" which led us down a winding trail through the forest, which was so wild and wind-stricken that this thing should NOT have been designated a path; on several occasions we had to walk around steep hill edges scrambling over tree trunks because the path had been blocked by felled trees which local woodcutters seemed
Angel
Inside the caves to have felled and just left there lying on the ground. On one such occasion I fell rather painfully onto an old trunk, but luckily that was minutes before we arrived at the river Punkva, whose clean and fresh water helped the graze heal.
Eventually this path turned a bit more sensible, and after about half an hour we arrived in Skalný Mlýn, which was basically just an estranged visitor centre where you buy tickets for the caves in the middle of the forest. We picked up our tickets and walked on, rejecting the two other rather eccentric forms of transport available, which were by "vlaček" (basically an electric bus shaped like a train) or by cable car. This way we also got to see the viewing galleries which looked over Macocha, which was so devoid of sunlight it was still covered in snow, and definitely not something I would suggest to people with fear of heights - the distance to the bottom was like something I'd never seen.
We arrived at the caves early enough to enjoy a Staropramen in the visitor centre. Then, the tour began. The tour was in two parts - the first part
In the hole
No sunlight. Ever. we just walked, and our tour guide explained the names of all the different formations to us as well as the history behind the area - the name "Macocha" is related to the Czech
macecha meaning stepmother, and so named after one stepmother from the 13th or 14th century (cant remember) who after marrying a divorced man, took her stepson (his only son) to the pit and pushed him off the edge. However, the stepson managed to hold on to something and survived, and when the local villagers got word of this, they hunted down the woman and pushed
her off the edge. At the end of the first part we emerged in the midst of the hole, which was about 15°C colder than at the top and pretty mind blowing!
The second part of the tour was by boat, which was quite cool, except that our tour guide for this part was extremely rude and just said something to the effect of "right, now clear off" once he had finished saying his bit. So as instructed, we cleared off, and started walking back. We had to rush a bit to get the train we were aiming for from
Last Supper
Fried smoked edam... mmmmm Blansko, but we did in the end, and we spent the evening in Brno eating our very own "last supper" and then drinking in the city's most famous microbrewery. However, as ever with Brno nowadays, I never seem to be able to exist there without being tremendously tired, and as I'd been walking all day and up since 4.30 it wasn't really surprising. So I was ready for a nice sleep on the way home. We took the Czech Republic's most overhyped and most stupidly named bus company "Student Agency" (pronounced "Stoodent Aggentsy") back to Zlín, which you don't have to be a student in order to use, so god knows what their marketing department were smoking when they came up with that name. Everyone always hypes on about how cheap they are and how comfortable, the former is nonsense (we paid pretty much the same as a train fare) and the latter is an oxymoron, the buses are modern but the roads in Czech Republic are absolutely terrible so they still shake like crazy, and it was the worst 1 and a half hours sleep I've ever got. At the end of it, Zlín embraced me in open arms
of pillow. Never again.
Finally, the other reason for us choosing to make this trip this weekend was that it was Easter. Easter (Velikonoce in Czech) is taken surprisingly seriously here, despite the Czech Republic being one of the most atheist countries in the world. Easter here carries fantastic energy in cities as colourful Easter markets pop up everywhere, but the Czech Easter traditions just seem plain bizarre for me, and probably would for most foreigners. On Easter monday, tradition dictates that women carry baskets of hand-painted eggs and wear ribbons in their hair, while men walk around carrying whips made from braided willow branches (
pomlázky), with which they "lightly whip" any woman they come across, reciting a verse telling them to "give painted eggs" and that "the hens will lay you another". The woman then gives the man an egg and a ribbon, which he attaches to his whip, and at the end of the day, those who collect more ribbons have "the best luck". Nowadays, this tradition is only followed in small villages, and usually only by children. Elsewhere, the tradition lives in more distorted form, of which I hear many stories from friends of the concept of "lightly whipping" being thrown out of the window at the very least.
For the rest of the weekend in Zlín, I did see a few young boys walking around with pomlázky twice their height. It is a bit surreal for me. But all very colourful to say the least.
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boscodcosta
non-member comment
Travel tips
Thanks for the wonderful post.