Today’s Letter is Z

Day 250
Day 250 should be a big day. It really is just another day, but one with a nice big round number to it. Perhaps if I had known in advance I would have planned something special, but as it is, I’m not really cognitive of the day of the week or date, let alone the day number. I guess everyday is a weekend for me.

I was up unbelievably early. The French guy, who had spent about an hour complaining about loud people in hostels the night before, was up at about 6 and must have had 100 plastic bags to pack his things in. Because of this I was way early for breakfast. I ended up getting my things packed up to pass the time. I was able to get rid of a couple of bottles and some books, making my load lighter. This made me very happy.

CFM left shortly after breakfast and I finally had some peace. I had a bus to catch, but not for a bit. I had wanted to take advantage of the free internet, but the monitor was missing. I read my book instead. I headed out a few minutes early for my noon bus. It was late and I just stood there freezing for a bit.

After an hour I got to Znojmo. I had no directions to my hostel, just a picture. I thought that it would be easy to see from the station. It really wasn’t. I wandered for some time and lucky ran into Claire and Kasey, teachers from Prague here for the weekend. They knew where the hostel was and led the way.

Once I had dropped off my things I headed out for lunch. I was a bit sick of Czech food and thought I would go to a Chinese place that I had passed earlier. I couldn’t find it, but I did find a place called the Saloon that had American flags on the outside. I felt like this was my type of place. Inside they only had Czech and German on the menu. I would have found it really funny if they didn’t have an English menu at all. Luckily they did and I got fried cheese. I guess I wanted some Czech food after all.

Znojmo was completely dead. It sort of reminded me of Cosenza in Italy. This could be a really pretty town, but its kinda falling apart. Perhaps it is good for me to go to at least one place in the CR that isn’t a UNESCO site. I wandered the empty streets for some time before going back to the hostel.

This is a holiday weekend and there was a family consisting of several generations staying here from Prague. They took over the kitchen completely. I ended up going to my room (I was the only one in there) and taking a nap. I really felt out of place.

When I woke up it was dinner time and I ended up chatting with Claire and Kasey some more. This is one of the Czech wine regions and they had tried to do some tastings today. Nothing was open so they bought a selection of wines from the Znovin vineyard instead. They were very nice and shared their tasting with me. Eventually the family came back and we sort of felt like we were intruding. It took some time, but we found a hotel bar with super cheap beer and we had a couple of drinks there. When it closed we went looking for something else, but there was nothing so we simply went back to the hostel. I was happy to see that I still had the room to myself.

Winged Beasts and Other Tales

Day 249
Last night I had the misfortune of meeting my new roommate. He was a Frenchman who had lived in the Philippines for the last decade after retiring from the military. I find it very unfortunate that he was so annoying. He had a wealth of travel experience and I could have learned a lot from him. The first problem was that even though he spoke English quite well, his accent was terrible and he spoke very quickly, I seemed to miss the middle of every sentence he said. The other problem was that he complained constantly. There weren’t the typical travel complaints either. You know, I hate carrying my bag, this person pushed me, does this country serve any food that isn’t fried first? He was attacking the people themselves, their level and willingness to speak English (yes, I said he was French) and even nitty gritty tourist structure stuff. Apparently everything in Asia is better and Europe sucks. He might have been the reason I went out for dinner the night before.

I was not happy to find out over breakfast that he was planning the same day trip as me. Also, as it was the weekend and off season, there was only one bus there and one bus back. So, fun for me, I could get stuck with him all day. At the bus stop he was very loud in saying that he felt that they make life hard on travelers on purpose in the CR. His current complaint was because the bus time tables are rather hard to read. I have been solving this by asking around and it hasn’t been a problem. I did the same today and met a really wonderful person. I couldn’t pronounce or spell her name though, so we will refer to her as NCG (nice Czech girl, or NCGWRMFTCFM nice Czech girl who rescued me from the crazy Frenchman). She confirmed that we were in the right place and we continued our conversation until we got to Telc. She was headed to Trebon to visit her boyfriend. When I joked that he should come to her I was informed that this was just what her mom had said. That is a very scary comparison.

When the bus got to Telc the bus driver had a bit of a break so NCG walked me part of the way to the city center. CFM (crazy Frenchman) was nowhere to be seen and she asked me if he was American as well, and said that he was very opinionated. I told her where he was from and we dropped the subject, but were sure to exchange emails before parting.

Now this is something that really annoys me. Not NCG, she didn’t annoy me at all. When people speak English well, or even just understand a bit it is often difficult or impossible for them to be able to tell apart different accents. So whenever someone is speaking English and behaving badly they are automatically branded as an American. It doesn’t matter where they are from, or even what level of English they actually have, they are American. The thing is, pretty much all avid travelers have an excellent hold on English, it’s the language of travel. Americans, sadly, are not huge travelers. On occasion on this trip I’ve gone more than a month between American sightings. Therefore, most people speaking English are not American. But when they misbehave, as we all do time to time, they are thought of as Americans. Hence, the ugly American travel slur. I guess my complaint (or random rant) is that I want to be judged on my own behavior, not on anyone else’s that came before me. If people don’t like me, that’s fine, there are a whole lot of people that I don’t like. And really, if you don’t like me, you’re not worth my time. (But if you don’t like me and your reading this blog, I must ask, do you have a life?) Just don’t dislike me for where I was born, dislike me for me, and dislike other people for being who they are as individuals as well. Ok, rant over, back to travel.

Telc (Telch) is known for its odd shaped and rather impressive square. It was easy to find, if I went in any other direction I would have been on country roads. With NCG’s help I had gotten away from CFM, and it looked like I would have a wonderful day. Of course, my first stop was the same as his, the tourist office. Now he was complaining loudly that it was closed. I told him that I was going to get some tea and went off on my own. It wasn’t hard, there were a lot of signs.

Instead of tea I spent some time checking out the buildings in the main square and photographing them. I walked into a couple of nondescript churches, but without names I can’t really report on them. Eventually I checked out the lake and ended up in a rather pretty alley.

The only museum open was called the Teksky Dom, it was a history and legends museum. It sounds really corny, even as I write it, but it wasn’t. Well, it was, but I liked it. The first room had several Czech legends depicted in porcelain. This bit was also translated into English. I read about two lover who went to the cellar to get more wine who accidentally set off a barrel of gun powder, killing everyone. I also read about another set of young lovers. The man had to go to war and didn’t come back for years. When he did he discovered that his girlfriend had married someone else. In a jealous rage he killed her groom. He was beheaded for his actions and she jumped out a window in her sorrow. There were also several about people out smarting the devil. These seem to be common everywhere.

There was a small collection of historical artefact's, but nothing was in English and they were not very interesting. Downstairs had rather large ceramic figures acting out different stories, they were nice, but only in Czech. I did like the small peak into Telc’s underground though. The upstairs rooms had games and I think they may have been for kids, but I managed to kill some time here as well.

After the museum it was lunch time and I found a cheap place for a cheese sandwich and to write a bit. I had a few hours to kill and wandered the parks for a bit. I also managed to find some new pens. When I got bored, well, cold, I got some tea and chocolate cake. I passed the time by writing. I had free internet at the hostel and I wanted to take advantage of it and needed things to type to do that.

It was rather unfortunate, but the main museum and the castle were close. Maybe next time. The ride back was fine, I didn’t even seen the CFM until I got off.

Back at the hostel I figured I would work on the blog and read for the evening. The CFM had other plans though and I ended up going to the bar downstairs to milk a beer over my book before falling asleep. I just couldn’t listen to that man complain any longer.

Doing Stuff

Day 248
I was up early and managed to finish showering just as breakfast was starting. I had a lot of hand washing to do, but it didn’t take me as long as I had expected it would.

Trebic (Trebich) is known for its Jewish ghetto. This isn’t the WWII type ghetto, but rather a renaissance one. This is not only the best preserved Jewish neighborhood in the CR, but quite possibly also in Europe. At the height of the ghetto there were about 1,500 people living here. By WWII there were only 281 Jews left. Only ten of those survived the Holocaust and only one choose to return to Trebic. There were thoughts during the communist era to destroy the area, but there wasn’t any money for it and the buildings remained. After communism ended the mayor, who recognized the importance of the area, campaigned to have it restored and even managed to barrow about US $1 million from the States to help. As a testament to all this work the area was added to the UNESCO World Heritage list in 2003.

I wandered the streets and admired the buildings for a while before finding the lower Synagogue. This is different from the upper synagogue, which is now a protestant church. For just a dollar I got to take pictures and have a guided tour. The structure was built in 1669 in the renaissance style. Eventually a woman’s gallery was added. Several years later the separate entrance and staircase for this was incorporated into a house. The houses owner had to allow women to enter the synagogue through his house. In 1706 some fabulous prayer mosaics were painted on the walls. Paper was expensive so these were just the prayers that were important but not often recited and therefore not often committed to memory. Due to the small size of the Jewish community by WWII the structure was being used to hold leather goods. This may have been why it was not destroyed by the Nazi’s, they probably didn’t know what it was for. After the war, until restoration in the 1990’s it was used to store potatoes.

It was rather quiet and very peaceful, but I found it to be a bit sad that it no longer served its original purpose. Upstairs there were further details on the area and objects that had been left behind when the occupants were taken to Terizen (transport camp outside of Prague) in 1943.

After the museum it was time for me to find the round bastion, but I was thirsty, so I looked for a cafe first. As I was finishing my juice an older man, maybe in his 70’s, was carried out of the cafe. He had been drinking beer and fell sloppily asleep at his table. It was about eleven am.

Once I had rehydrated I headed up a massive hill in the direction I thought I was meant to go. I ended up way out of my way and after about an hour of wandering I had given up. When I got back down the hill I asked the first younger person (person under 30 who probably speaks English) for help. As luck would have it Suzanne did speak English and as she was off of uni for a few days she had nothing but time. The actual path to the bastion was about a foot wide between two houses. I would have never found it without her help. As she had extra time she came up there with me. After about a million steps we found a pile of rocks. I was super glad that I chanced a heart attack for that one.

Just a bit further down the trail and worth the possible coronary, was the Jewish Cemetery. This had also not been destroyed by the Nazis. Perhaps they didn’t want to walk up the hill either. However, prior to restoration time and neglect had not been kind. Today it is a very peaceful treed place, just kinda awkward as it is on the side of a big hill. The oldest grave dated back to the mid 17^th century. Suzanna and I walked around all of it and chatted along the way. She put up with me taking a whole lot of pictures. Once we were finished we parted ways, she was headed to her parents, and I was headed to lunch.

I went to a place that Rick Steves had recommended. While there I ran into the guy who had given me a tour at the synagogue. We chatted for a bit, but he had to go back to work. It was a bit humorous because it took me a minute to recognize him. I couldn’t figure out why a random man was waving at me.

The next stop of the day was the Procopius Basilica. I had missed the last tour, but I would be allowed to go in for free in about an hour, just before a service. I decided to spend the next hour at the nearby West Moravian Museum. This could only be done by tour and I ended up lumped together with a group from the local retirement home. There were small English descriptions in about a third of the rooms. There were also two tour guides. One of them noticed that I was getting a bit pushed around by the geriatric set and she directed me off on my own. It was much better.

Most of the museum was really generic. Bits of medieval shoes, pipes and what have you. There was a section on nativity scenes though. These were made out of paper and were about 8 feet high and up to 12 feet wide. They were fabulous. It took me forever to check out all the different figures. One of them even had moving parts. Oddly, it showed a guy being pulled up a tree by his crotch and a crucifix.

When the museum was done I had a bit more time to kill and popped back into the onsite tourist office. The very nice girl there helped me figure out the bus times for my day trip the next day as well as how to get to my next destination. She even offered to find me a place to stay. I think she was bored. It didn’t matter; she was very kind, as most people in the CR have been to me.

When I finally got to look in the monastery it wasn’t that big of a deal and I was really glad that I hadn’t paid for the all Czech tour. Sometimes bad timing is actually good timing.

A few hours later I was really craving pizza and decided to go out. I picked a nice warm table away from the door and was promptly asked to move to a place closer to the door because it was just me. I wouldn’t have minded that much, I’m used to it, it’s just that no one ever came to sat in that place and I was cold for nothing.

After eating I tried to figure out what people do in this town on a Friday night. I came to the conclusion that they simply go home, and ended up doing that myself.

Apparently It Can

Day 247
I was up early, I had to be for my bus. I had packed the night before and only had to throw a few last minute things into my bag and finish up the last of my cereal. It was raining again, and I left a few minutes early. Good thing too, because I missed the road I needed. To not miss my bus I had to go down a trail cut through some woods. It was rather steep and with my bag and the rain it was a bit tricky. I don't know how I managed to not fall.

Switching buses in CB was easy and soon I was on my way. I fell asleep for a while and when I woke up I was nervous that I had missed my stop. I asked the guy behind me. It turned out the he wasn't Czech, but rather Italian. He had been visiting his girlfriend. Lucky for me he had done this several times before and was able to reassure me that I had not missed my stop. We chatted for the rest of the ride and that made it fly by.

When I got to Trebic, pronounced Trebich, I had no clue where my hostel was. There had been a bad map on the website but no directions. I went in what I thought was the right way and ended up in the main square. The tourist office was just closing and someone who didn't speak much English basically told me to go away. I walked outside and was at a bit of a loss. I was carrying all my crap and it was raining. I had no idea what to do. Just then a woman came out with maps and town information and told me that she was closing but that the guy who told me to go away told her that I spoke English and she wanted to give me info. I was really appreciate. She even told me where my hostel was.

I had no problem finding the place and in no time my bag was in a locker and I was beginning to dry off. I was really hungry though and simply ate at the hostel restaurant. It was a bit expensive, but I don't think my stomach would have had the patience to shop around. The food was really good.

After lunch I tried to wander in the rain but it was making me rather miserable. I ended up back at the hostel and took a nap. When I woke up it was time for dinner. My goal for the evening was to find a place where I might be able to do some writing and meet some locals. I went to most of the bars recommended on my map but they were all empty. I finally found a non stop place called Rodeo that had a couple of people in it and not too loud music.

There was a guy sitting one table over and he tried to get my attention. I could tell straight away that he was very drunk and kinda smelled and I didn't really have the desire to talk to him. He wanted me to come to the juke box and pick out a song. I tried to pretend I didn't understand, but he eventually made it really obvious. I went over there and picked out a song. When I was done he tried to kiss me, but I easily brushed him away. He seemed to get the hint. Drunk guy didn't try to touch me again, but he did try to have a conversation with me by drawing boxes. I didn't understand at all and when I finished my beer I said goodbye and went back to the hostel.

It was still rather early and after spending some time online I read a bit before falling asleep.