European Tour – South Bohemia Day 18 (Written by Gala)
First let me say that yesterday morning I woke up on a couch in a kitchen on a farm with a little orange kitten asleep on my neck. And second, that option B’s sleep included an enourmous high-ceilinged attic inhabited by bats. (yee yeah!) Thirdly, let me begin this blog by stating, in order of appearance…
…Rain rain rain rain RAIN rain rain rain rain RAIN cycle cycle cycle cycle…
Not only have I surpassed my wildest expectations of kilometers cycled through unknown territory in such a short amount of time, but the weather has also been striving to break the cycle of normalcy here in Eastern Europe. And its been doing a good job. In fact, I wouldn’t hesitate to thank the consistent rainfall for my lack of writing journal entries, for it has succeeded in drenching my lovely thick-paged handmade journal and rendering it impossible to dry for the last 6 days at least. da.
But in all honesty, the rain factor is just value added for this ‘lil adventure. Without it, how could I begin to describe how it feels to wake up on a mid-July morning on a hillside overlooking central Prague, after cycling 125kms of unmarked trails the day prior to arrive in Eastern Europe’s culture capital, to the most grandiose thunderstorm-rainshower-
Entering Prague and the Czech Republic all in one piece – for the most part- has not only signified entrance into an entirely different region and lifestyle, but it also marks the +1000km czech point (ha ha), and the fact that our ride is more than ¼ of the way through. We’ve grown accustomed to many combinations of jam, peanut butter, mayonnaise, mustard, nutella and random-condiment-with-wonder bread sandwiches (*no relish yet, mads&joel*). We’ve come to terms with body odour. We’ve taken long and winding bike paths 30kms in the wrong directions, and often opted for highways over bike paths, for better or for worse. And, we’ve danced like monkeys till 5am along the river ‘Elbe’ and woken up at 6:30am to ride it into loverly Dresden.
But it seems to me, this trip is taking on a new face as we reach the final stages of the honeymoon. And I think it all stems from Tabor, South Bohemia.
For those of you who recall, each rider was assigned to find the team accomodation in random cities throughout Europe. Some got Utrecht, some got Vienna, and I got Tabor – the most random place ever, in my opinion. For weeks I fretted and feared that it would be impossible to make contact with this mystery town. I googled it, couchsurfed it, and generally got displeased with the fact that I was responsible for housing my team in it. Until one sweet day, when both the cultural exchange station in tabor (CESTA) as well as Mike and Nicola Robinson both agreed to have us spend a night with them. Dream. Come. True.
Tabor is approximately 130kms south of Prague (took my pod 14 hours straight to cycle it – no jokes) – and it is the most beautiful region of my trip so far. Rolling farmland carved away by narrow brooks and streams, uphills that take your breath away as you race down the other side, cherries, plums, and peaches everywhere you look, and flower pots at the edge of almost every pink, yellow, & turquoise cottage’s window sill. The good Czech people mow their lawns in their panties, showing no shame, and far more skin than you ever needed to see. And a 14 hour long day is still ended in smiles as you realize that there is no way you would ever be able to have this kind of experience if not for your 2 wheeled bicycle friend, and the amazing people kickin’ it beside you.
Tabor was the first place we’ve stayed where our hosts cooked us a homemade meal, served hot and delicious as we walked through the door (a welcome embrace). It was also unique in that the two places we stayed in this region provoked some inspirational thoughts about alternative lifestyles, community engagement, and environmentally sustainable options – composting toilet and solar shower, anyone?
Taking a brief break from our +100km days allowed for a short ride between tabor 1 and tabor 2 and a welcome opportunity to spend more quality time with our respective hosts for the evenings. Mike and Nic had promised us a long anticipated hog roast, which even some of the vegetarians passed off as a “cultural experience”, and invited us to camp in their backyard underneath the most brilliant countryside lightning storm that you’ve ever seen. Streaks of fluorescent light rippling like veins through a pulsing palm trying to grab the sky. Thunder that cracks much less than 10 seconds later. The energy we needed in order to power through the relentless rain into Ceske Budejovice today. A 50km ride upon which my pod encountered at least four cute little hedgehogs squished and mangled spike-side upwards into the highway, and a few red triangular road signs with the picture of a single snowflake in the middle.
