it smacks of battery...no, maybe more like the underside of a car...

I am in one of the most beautiful places I have ever been (And, I´m imagining that I´ll be saying  those words often over these next few months). A different kind of beauty than I have seen before, Cesky Krumlov could be the set of some kind of medieval fairytale. The views of castle, church spires, winding river and cobblestone streets look, in places, as though they´ve been painted onto a backdrop. It´s 30 degrees and there´s hardly a cloud in the sky.  Absolutely breathtaking.

To move back in time for a bit, on Saturday morning, we boarded our train from Prague. The ticket inspector, after stamping our tickets, spoke to us firmly in Czech.  From her perspective, our dazed looks must have communicated that we understood completely, as she quickly left without any sort of nod or smile. Tom, a very kind 25 year old guy (who also plays in a band called ´Bitches and Chips´, just to help with the mental picture), who was sharing our train compartment with us, offered a translation without us asking, explaining that we would need to exit the train at a certain stop, board a bus, take a short bus ride, and then get on the train once again.  It was truly a gift to be sharing our train compartment with Tom, as Sarah and I both would have assumed that she had just wished us a pleasant journey, or something like that.  Sure enough, about 2 hours into the trip, we followed a herd of people off of the train, through a station and onto a bus.  We then reversed this process about 20 minutes later.  It´s a tricky to know when to smile and nod, and when to insist on a translation. :)  Speaking of which, there´s little in my years of singing and learning about diction in many different languages that has prepared me for Czech. It took several days of asking several people to repeat it slowly, before even ´thank you´ would stick in my mind.

Saturday afternoon, we arrived in Marianské Lazné (again, apparently "West Bohemia´s prettiest spa town").  The town first offered spa services in 1808. There are 100+ springs in the area, 40 within the small town itself - the fact that there are so many different types of mineral springs in a small area makes the area a geographical rarity. I had been interested in checking out the Eastern European "spa-town" phenomenon, and we picked this one, not really knowing what to expect (but imagining being massaged and bathing in mineral water)...

We were sweaty from the train ride before our 30 minute walk to the hostel wearing our backpacks. After a rejuvenating collapse into bed, we quickly put on bathing suits, packed towels, and headed off to find ourselves the healing waters of Marianské Lazné. A confusing stop at an info centre, and a purchase of yet another confusing map, led to wandering, and eventually, to finding a line up  of people filling water bottles and taking pictures at a fountain marked "Rudolph". For at least the 3rd time in as many days, lemmings, we did exactly what everyone else was doing - I filled my water bottle and Sarah took a photo. After an initial grimace, "this tastes a bit like sucking on a key", I grew to appreciate the sparkling Rudolph spring. We put it together gradually, that though yes, there were spots to swim and soak, the popular thing to do in town was to partake in "the healing drink". We tried 3 different springs (even found a little "café" style place where one could purchase a fancy cup and try these different waters from sinks, one next to the other). I learned that Rudolph, my first foray into "the healing drink", has a diuretic function, and is also high in calcium, and so is used in the treatment of osteoporosis.

We found the sulphuric spring next, "the cross spring", or Krisovy, of which I managed to swallow a few drops without gagging (Sarah, not so much).  Finally, "Caroline", tasted, to quote Sarah, "like licking the underside of a car". Prancing about in a Czech spa-town, wearing bathing suits and drinking metallic water, the fatigue from the day was quickly transformed to levity. We purchased a traditional Czech wafer (delicious, and also intended to neutralize the taste of sulphur), watched a fountain dance to the sounds of Strauss, and remarked how far away Prague seemed....

As we didn´t ever find a place to literally soak in the healing waters of the town, we decided that booking massages would be a necessary part of the experience.  After our night at "Hostel Edinburgh", we arrived for our treatments Sunday morning, which guaranteed on the brochure that they would "render the organism to a vegetative state" (we were certain they meant this in the best possible way).  The running joke was our hope that we had NOT signed up for the "happy ending" kind of massage. Josef, speaking in a mix of Czech and German, appeared to play modest when he entered the room and I was lying on my tummy instead of my back (a lot had been lost in translation), but did not play modest for long.  I spent a lot of the time trying not to laugh, thinking, "Wait till I tell my massage therapist about THIS".  Don´t worry, I was completely safe, and he didn´t "try anything". And I suppose if I spoke either Czech or German, I would have known, while lying on my tummy, that he was about to pull my underwear completely off of my butt.  Ladies and gentlemen, the authentic Czech spa town experience.

Oily and sliding around in our Birks, we treked to the train station, and had a hot 5 hour trip to Cesky Krumlov, this fairy tale paradise that I am writing from.  The details from this stop will have to wait for another post, for it´s time to wander castle grounds, and perhaps put on a bathing suit and actually enter the water this time.

With love and hugs.