​There was a strange man in my dormitory last night!  I knew that someone had moved in to one of the other beds, because they’d screened off their bed with the duvet cover and shifted the single bed to pile up their bags behind it.   I’d accidentally disturbed the mysterious person when I got in last night, by turning the light on.  It wasn’t terribly late (before 10pm) but I turned it off again quickly and used my little puff light to find my toothbrush etc.  That puff light is really very useful and it’s not run down yet (which is great, considering it’s solar powered).  Anyway, this morning he was prancing about in his underwear all round the hostel and didn’t say anything at all to me. 
 
I so enjoyed my short stay in Brno I’m reluctant to leave.  Have downloaded the PDF maps of all the relevant stages of the Eurovelo 9 route – I just need to find the start.  But after lunch.  I went into a café around the corner from the hostel – not the nicest place I could have chosen, but convenient.  I didn’t get what I ordered but what was on the row below in the menu – the waitress couldn’t speak English and didn’t see what I was pointing at.   But it was a very edible Greek Salad and close enough to what I’d ordered so I didn’t make a fuss (how thoroughly British of me!). 
 
After lunch, I spent the next couple of hours trying to find the start of the cycle route and failing.  Unbeknownst to me, I’d come within a few metres of it the very first time I’d set out – but had doubted myself and turned back into the centre.  So I went round and round until finally I decided enough was enough and went in search of someone who could speak passable English to tell me exactly where I was so I could navigate on the map properly.  This took several asks but a lovely chap in an IT service shop met the criteria, by which time it was gone three in the afternoon.  The path was so lovely and flat, with an excellent tarmac surface, I still managed to cycle over 40 miles (which is impressive for me, though I’m sure the Friday Freewheelers are phsawing!).  A wrong sign led me briefly astray in Rebesovice – I went around in a great circle because the sign said go left (when it should have pointed right).   I realised the direction was wrong and kept checking my compass, but still chose not to question the sign.  Sigh. 
 
But now I’m at a campsite (Autokemp Merkur on the shore of Nove Mlyny reservoir in Pahsolavky).  It’s noisy and busy enough now, at the beginning of the season – so lord knows what it gets like in high season.  Some idiot with too much testosterone, driving a sports car, takes it down a grass slope at high speed and does pirouettes with it in the sand.  I hope the noise settles down before I go to sleep. 
 
The Czech people (and I’m going to generalise terribly, here), seem to be very sociable and to love to party.  Many towns and villages seem to have a communal activity on in a public place at the weekend.  They also seem to be family orientated.  I’ve noticed lots of courting couples in Brno, walking around holding hands, canoodling in corners – so romantic!  Then there are many families out at weekends enjoying activities together – cycling, dining out etc. and it’s very noticeable how children are included and spoken to by the adults.  I love the playgrounds that abound – most towns seem to have one and they are colourful, sturdy, well planned and inviting (though I haven’t had a go apart from the slide in the modern art gallery!).
 
Villages and towns seem better maintained to the South of Prague – perhaps because of the vineyards?  There’s more evidence of general prosperity anyway. 
 
Have goulash and bread and beer in the café – with a very helpful manager who speaks perfect English.  He spent some time touring the British Isles about 10yrs ago, as well as living in Australia and working on Cruise Ships…Honestly, he doesn’t look old enough.   I wonder how/why he ended up running this camp restaurant? 
  

Updated this blog and had a not so good breakfast – processed cheese atop processed toast with a bit of jam.  Was going to have cornflakes but the milk tasted slightly off – probably because it was UHT but I didn’t like it – bleurgh. 
 
Surprising how footsore one can get just traipsing around town.  I went and had some brunch in an organic restaurant next door to the hostel – reminded me of Cranks in the seventies.  The soup I had was wholesome but bland (are my taste buds disappearing?).  Then came the exploring.
 
I went into a huge Catholic Church – beautiful stained glass windows, confession boxes in the back.  There’s a convent next door – so I saw several nuns around town, still dressed in the old fashioned habit with covered heads.  From there, I wound around the back, into St Denis Gardens and down steps – I had looked at maps but I’m not that good at following an itinerary.  Went into a totally contrasting church with wonderful black and white photographs of homeless people around the walls – otherwise devoid of decoration.   Coming out of there, I could see I was surrounded by University buildings – aptly, the department of Social Science was next door to the church.  Slightly up a hill, a sign shouted ‘Here is Art’ at me so I headed for that. 
 
It was a Modern Art museum and, first of all, I had to ‘purchase’ a ticket – I say that, because it was free.  But in the exhibition, my ticket was checked.  I loved that.  All the ‘paintings’ were monochrome replicas of the originals painted directly on the wall in India Ink – really well executed and ‘hung’ between two hooks or nails.  There was a plaque next to each describing the painting in the sort of terms you’d get if you were looking a the real thing – descriptions of technique, colours used etc.  The artists were David Bäjam and Jirí Franta (I’ve probably got their names wrong, because I can’t read my writing, but I’m sure they’d appreciate that).  No wonder it was all free – the joke was on me!  I loved it – and went around with a grin on my face – discovering lots about Czech art and the ‘Osma group’ while I was at it, because all the paintings are owned by the Moravian Gallery in town.   
 
I slid down a slide to the next floor, all the way back to 1973.   Here there was an exhibition about Jirì Valoch’s work on having a lot of fun in the landscape and visual poetry.  He’s a local born artist and (from behind the iron curtain) he also conducted a mail art project – postcards from all over the world (memorably ‘do not read’ written on one).  So I’m looking at these postcards (I can see their backsides reflecting in the glass and get told off for leaning on the glass trying to read the reflections) – and lo!   A map of ‘Dartmoor Forest’ leaps out at me – the Whitehorse hill area where that Cist/grave was excavated in 2011                             ( http://www.dartmoor.gov.uk/lookingafter/laf-culturalheritage/whitehorse-hill-burial ) and another postcard from Bristol showing the Clifton Suspension Bridge.  I’ve come all the way to Brno to an art exhibition to see a picture of a map of just up the road from where I live.  That’s pretty extraordinary.   It’s the only map amongst the postcards too. 
 
            “Jirì Valoch : Identity piece no.4: Banal fragments of a landscape, town, thing, situation.   Remember when, and under what circumstances you saw (watched, met) an identical landscape, town, identical things, situation.” (1973)
 
Which reminded me of my musings t’other day when I was linking the first views of Prague spread out before me with the first views of Exeter from Haldon Hill…
Synchronicities.  I love all these synchronicities because they keep happening.
 
There was lots more (a pink boob car?- there was three boobs on the front) but I’ve said enough about THAT.
 
I came out of the exhibition still grinning, and headed up hill to 13th century Castle Špilberk and paid to go up the lookout tower (more blurry pics of Brno vistas – sorry) and to see an exhibition of a lifetime’s work/photographs by American Steve McCurry.  Everyone must have seen that iconic photograph of an Afghan native girl with amazing green/blue eyes from National Geographic?  More like that.  There was some sort of TV interview happening in the last room which was a tad frustrating because I didn’t get to ogle the last few pictures close up.  Interesting to see the interview thing, though – even though I couldn’t understand what the panel were saying they looked and sounded very sincere. 
 
I was overloaded and stimulated by the end of the day, so I sat in (one of) the Castle coffee shops and had a slice of cheesecake (LOVE the cheesecakes in this area) and coffee and knit whilst looking at the stunning view of the city.  I tried to say hello to a Shar-pei dog on my way out – but its owner shooed me off whilst telling me how dangerous the dog was (it was wagging its tail – but there you go).    I’m wondering whether it’s a law for all dogs to be muzzled in public because so many dog owners either muzzle their dogs or carry a muzzle in Czech Republic.  (I’ve just googled it, and public transport requires all dogs to be muzzled – so that explains the phenomenon).
 
From the castle, I went in search of supper – there was live music in Freedom Square – a really good band playing folksy/rock type songs, so I sat in a restaurant where I could hear the music and had spaghetti prima vera and garlic bread with a beer (for less than a tenner).  This Moravian City is such good value for money. 

​NOone disturbed me as I packed up camp, save a fast, fat lizard making its way to the wood pile, and a toad hiding in the corner of the WC.
 
It was still 50miles to Brno and the start of the Eurovelo 9 route, so I decided to take the train from Zd’ár nad Sazavou.  I still had damp clothes from washing them at the hotel and I fancied a day off to go sightseeing.  I got to Zd’ár-n-Saz and found a place that sold porridge oats (yay!  Was getting low), then made my way to the station and purchased a ticket for me and Ro, on the slow train (only 1hour 33mins for what would have taken me two days) for the princely sum of £1.15.   Would have been £2.15 for the fast train – but I’m not in a hurry. 
 
A guy called Eric was very helpful and assisted me onto the train with Rowenna – it was another steep climb up steps into the carriage.  At least this station had a lift that just about fit me and the bike and the luggage in – it would have been a pain getting to platform three otherwise.  I would have liked to spend more time in Zd’ár N Saz but I’ll settle for Brno instead. 
 
There’s something very comforting about the swaying and rocking and sound of the wheels on the tracks of a train.  The list of names of the stations we pause at is mesmerising too – Ovoce, Listecky, Sklene, Krizanov, Orechov, Rikanim, Dolni Louky, Tisnov – then, with the rickety tack, clickety click , I fall asleep, of course.
Woke in good time to untie Rowenna and clamber off the train in ungainly fashion.  Brno is a Big City!  Second largest in Czech Republic and capital of Morovia. 
 
I book into cheap Hostel John Galt (Who IS, or was, John Galt?) on the third floor of a building also containing a night club, a Feng Shui master and a keepfit place.  Fortunately there’s a lift for Rowenna again – a tight squeeze, like the one at the station, but we manage.  The receptionist is a studious young man (studying finance, he says) with his books and computer open at the desk – he shows me to a bedded dormitory which I have to myself – at least for this first night. 
 
He continues to study the entire time I am hanging up the damp laundry, unpacking stuff and making up the top bunk.  There was a bit of an unknown and unsavoury looking stain in a corner of the mattress so I decided to turn it around.  As I’m wrestling with it, half of the slats holding it in place decide to fall out.  Much hilarity as I reconstruct the bed and finish turning the mattress around, balancing it on my head, whilst balancing myself on a chair. 
 
So tonight I decide on retreating from the world entirely and go to ‘Cinema City’ to see Captain America.  Tomorrow – sightseeing in Brno. 
 

​Trouble with hotels is that it’s too easy to sit around playing on the computer while there’s still wifi!   It’s already 11am and I haven’t shifted, and the sun is hot out there.  Now, if I was sensible, I’d have got up at 5am and got going while it was still cool.   Mad dogs and English women…
 
It’s midday and hot and muggy when I push off, and the pressure and the clouds build up until, only 4 miles up the road from Havličkuv-Brod, the first, fat drops plop down.  Just in time, I spot a bus shelter and dive in to do a daily draw then watch in fascination as it pelts down about 10minutes later.  10 minutes after that the heavens are spent and the clouds mumble and grumble their way West (behind me).  It’s all steamy as I get going again, and smells of wet hay.  The road lies up and down, which means the cooling, fun of the down is quickly over and the slog of the up is a slow, puff, puff, pant of eternity.  
 
In Pribyslav I stop for an ice-cream.  There’s always an ice-cream parlour in every town it seems – and here there’s three.  
Last night, I looked up the train fare from Havličkuv-Brod to Brno – only about £5.  I might consider this from the next major town, to get on to the Eurovelo 9 route – as Kathryn is plotting on coming to Vienna (if her passport arrives back in time) and Nina is meeting me in Slovenia for a skip in the Alpine Meadows on the 16th June.  Deadlines to meet drive one on.  The public transport system seems to work well and be popular in the Czech Republic – not only is there a comprehensive rail service but there are bus stops (Zastávka) in the most remote places with buses coming past regularly – with passengers on too. 
 
I decide to follow a Czech cycling trail today – no. 19:  A yellow rectangle, with a black border, an arrow and a picture of a bicycle with a no.19 on).  This zig zags through some delightful, rolling farm country, with sheep grazing, and ponies next door to farm houses.  I was shocked to turn around a corner and be confronted with a land-fill site.  It looked like a spoon had taken a scoop out of one of the grass covered hills to reveal layers and layers of plastic and debris.  There was also evidence of recycling going on – with different hills of debris down by a warehouse – and the sounds of machinery.  I’ve noticed recycling centres in towns as I’ve passed through – for paper, plastic and glass.  Today I saw large metal bins with ‘bloodpad’ written on, filled with garden compost.  I sped on past the rubbish tip and ponders what lies beneath. 
 
I’d have done well to ponder what lay beneath my feet when I stopped for a picnic of the rolls I’d made at breakfast time:  when I went to repack Ro, I noticed a prickling around my ankles.  Looking down I saw I was standing in a nest of those teensy, weensy ants which were now crawling all over my shoes, injecting what skin they could find with incy, wincy shots of formic acid and endeavouring to carry me off – the beggars!    I had to dance on the spot and then sit down to remove my trainers to shake out all the dead bodies before moving on again. 
 
When I got to Nova Dvory I realised what a zig I’d been doing so I continued along the more direct, but not half as pleasant, main road.   Not much further along, I came to Sazara and saw a sign for “Hostelnik’, and wondered if that meant accommodation.  Then, not a lot further again, I saw a sign to ‘Klostercise Sazara’ so I turned down the lane to have a look.  I arrived at an outdoor swimming area with a small, sandy beach for children, a walled off paddling pool and diving platforms into what would be very murky water.  There were also a row of flushable loos on site (the waste going directly into a huge covered cesspit next door- not at all smelly).    There was a beer place with a covered verandah and picnic tables (closed up), a badminton court and a stage area.  It looked like an excellent venue for the nearby town.  The grass was cut short so I decided to camp right there – if I could find a place away from prying eyes.   
 
When I had found a suitable spot, and was setting up camp, some dog walkers strolled in the other end of the park and sat down to enjoy the sunset on one of the benches – they took no notice of me at all.  Few minutes after they’d gone, some children came along and went paddling on the beach part.  Then, after they’d gone, a car turned up which was a tad alarming – but the driver parked outside the closed up beer place, took some crates from the building and then drove off again.  I was beginning to think I’d picked the wrong place to stealth camp but there was a beautiful sunset and I had an undisturbed night’s kip.

​There’s a house hidden by trees and downhill to the fields I camped in, but no signs of life as I packed up.  The snails around here are peculiarly large and pale – you could see where several had left trails over the tent and there was still one perched on top of the fly sheet – and another on one of the panniers.
I stopped for coffee in the very next town of Kourim and was hassled by a youngish man for money/beer.  I offered him food – he didn’t want food, he wanted beer, despite it being 9am in the morning.  I felt a bit desperate for him, but I wasn’t going to support his habit either.   I’ve seen a fair number of young men drinking in the streets at all hours and suspect I’m starting to see the alcoholism that is rumoured to be rife in Eastern Europe (not that we don’t have our fair share of alcohol and drug related probs in the UK either – it just doesn’t seem so public!).
 
Today turned out to be the best day I’ve had in the Czech Republic yet.   Even though I couldn’t get the map on the Macbook to enlarge again without wifi (having shrunk it) and went much further south than Komoot would have had me go, I wouldn’t have met the people I did, if I hadn’t, so it was meant to be.  I was pleased to be out of the city and back in the country-side (you’re RIGHT Susan) – my eyes feasted on all the green.  I was getting frustrated with my lack of a paper map – and with the non-compliance of the computer.  I stopped at a supermarket (only open in the mornings on Sundays) – for the makings of some lunch and to ask directions – the woman at the till did her best with no English (and sort of assumes there is a car – so tends to give directions for the quickest roads – not necessarily the shortest). I went off clutching a sheet of paper with place names to aim for and we’d wished each other “Dobrÿ Den” and shaking hands vigorously with a big grin!  (I have learned that “Dobrÿ Den” is the standard greeting meaning “Good Day”, like hello – even the children say it when you pass by).  I carried on, and then decided NOT having directions was just too much to take (or too little information), so I resolved to stop and ask the first likely looking people for assistance. 
 
Not long afterwards I spotted a couple in their garden – and asked if they knew any English (after saying “Dobrÿ Den” of course!).  The wife did – and they both proceeded to bend over backwards in their efforts to help me out – whilst plying me with biscuits and water – and their three boys were demonstrating how they could count to ten in English.  First we tried connecting my macbook to their wifi – didn’t work, for some reason (I think it was the wrong network).  Then we resorted to paper and out came LOTS of maps – I was given a small local map first, then a Czech Road Atlas – which is perfect (they had spares and the one they gave me was an old one).   The husband was a mechanic so he proceeded to glue on the handle of my bicycle, which had become totally loose since I’d adjusted its position to relieve my ulnar nerve problem a few weeks ago.  I didn’t get their names – but they were just so friendly and generous.  They waved me off up the road.  
 
I’d opted to continue up a road closed because of road works – on the grounds that a bicycle can often get around an obstacle that a car can’t.  Only problem was that it was a bridge under construction and it didn’t go right the way across the gap any more.  Fortunately it was over a ditch and not a river and there was a way across – but down a steep bank.  I was just contemplating unloading Rowenna when the two chaps who were on site approached and volunteered to carry Rowenna.   She was mightily pleased with this arrangement, whilst I was trying to point how HEAVY she is!  I think they took this as a challenge – because they duly carried her down the bank and up the other side with no apparent trouble.   
I was wondering why there were two chaps there at all, on a Sunday and not apparently labouring on site – but there was a small caravan there and I suspect maybe they’re paid to guard the building materials.
I waved my thanks and carried on, thinking what an amazing day this was turning out to be.  I stopped for a picnic at the brow of hill and discovered the roll mops I’d bought were set in aspic!  Weird, but otherwise tasted just like roll mops.
 
A little further on, I came across ANOTHER road block – they obviously do all the repairs on a stretch of road in one swoop.  I decided not to risk this one and, fortuitously, there was a small side road – and with my new paper map I could see were it went… 
 
It was now very hot and sunny. As I went over a small bridge in a village called Jindice, it occurred to me that the railings were ideal to drape the tent over to dry it out.  So I stopped and unloaded Rowenna – only to find that the plastic water bottle had been leaking also, so it was a good thing I’d stopped as it wasn’t just the tent that was soggy.  While I was taking the baggage apart, I could see a youngish man standing chatting to two older women.   I could see they were curious, so when I’d finished draping, I strolled across to say hello (or Dobrÿ Den anyway).   Their little dog barked fiercely at me through the gate, but turned into a poppet once it was open.  
 
It transpired that the younger bloke could speak very good English.  He asked me what I wanted, and when I replied that I wanted for nothing and was just saying hello – he offered coffee or tea.  Since I’d have to wait a while for the tent to dry I quickly agreed that coffee would be lovely.   He summonsed me to the back garden of the neighbouring cottage – and there was a sort of lemony, Easter bread and a little glass bowl of chocolates.  The guy’s name was Stanislav, but I really couldn’t decipher what his mother was called (so I shall call her Gwendolyn as it sounded a bit like that – how terribly patronising of me!).   I was really quite full up after lunch and didn’t even have a chocolate (which everyone who knows me will realize is unusual), though I tried a slice of the bread – because I wanted to know what it tasted like more than anything else.  Then Gwendolyn wanted to give me some hot food.  “No, no,” I tried,, “really, I’ve not long eaten” – but it was a “traditional Czech lunch with dumplings – how many dumplings did I want?”  “One?” I said feebly.  We haggled.  I got four on a plate, with venison, cranberry sauce and what looked initially like dahl, coloured with mustard, but turned out to be pureed veggies (including carrot) made into a sauce with buttermilk etc.  Apparently I needed the strength if I was cycling all that way.  The meal was OK – the dumplings came sliced and were made with bread, I think, and the venison was lean and tender.  Stan had to mime a deer as he couldn’t remember the word in English.   I managed to eat it all, bar one dumpling, I’m proud to say – though I felt totally stuffed and waddled back to the bicycle.   I must say though, I’m missing SPICE!  I love curry – and food in Eastern Europe has been universally fairly bland and very filling.
 
Stanislav asked so many questions about my trip that I didn’t have much opportunity to find out about him – apart from the fact that he lived in Prague and this wee cottage is the weekend and holiday retreat from the city.  Also that the harness hung on the wall of the cottage as decoration was actually for a cow, not a horse.   They seemed fascinated by my journey – and also the knitting.  Gwendolyn had tried to knit and given it up as a bad job.  She could see I knit differently – it’s very odd to be the oddball. 
 
Stanislav told me I’d missed the UNESCO heritage site at Kutna Hora – a cathedral I think.  I know which experience I value more, though – I’d much rather meet up with local people than see a cathedral any day of the week. 
And I’ve been riding past churches in small villages every day that are wonderful to look at and very different from home.  So much to see.
 
I came to a town called Zbraslavice where there was an openair musical event taking place in the town square.   They were playing mostly Czech type dance music with an accordian but I heard one 12 bar blues number.  There was half a dozen couples waltzing around, children running around and lots of empty chairs in front of an empty stage, so I guess there had been more performances during the day.   I thought it might have been a private party so crossed the road to an icecream parlour and had a cup of ‘cofolo’ (which is a cross between cola and coffee as far as I can make out, and therefore has a fair whallop of caffeine, I’m sure).  The icecream saleswoman assured me it was a public event – a ‘fundraiser’.  So I sat and watched and knit for a while.      
 
I rode on, keeping an eye out for a camping spot.  There was a track leading down to the woods where I could see several deer grazing at the edge.  I could hear several more – and have decided that THAT was what my ‘pig’ was t’other night – a deer making a weird, snorty noise.  My campsite was otherwise totally quiet, idyllic – overlooking a wooded valley and fields.  
During the night I nipped out of the tent for a pee – to be greeted by a stunning bowl of stars overhead. 

​Took a wrong turn out of Bohdaneč again, but just ended up going around the wrong side of a rectangle.  Cycled through lovely rolling countryside today, in hot sun – which translates as lots of pushing bike up hill then cooling off by cycling rapidly down hill.  When I finally got some wifi – I discovered I’ve come well south of the path that Komoot would have put me on.  But I wouldn’t have had met the lovely people yesterday if I had gone the althernative route. 
 
Am cycling along wondering whether to vote for Brexit or not.  It’s a tricky one. 
Initially took the simplistic route – stay in, for ease of work, study, travel in Europe.  But the EU is essentially a Capitalist venture with little democracy and I hate what Germany is doing to Greece and worry about TTIP (which isn’t an excuse to exit Europe anyway).   Oh, oh, read up and ponder some more.  (UPDATE:  Sue A [Aunty Poo] has told me off for inferring Germany are doing ANYTHING to Greece - point taken - and my first instinct was to vote to stay in and sort it, so I've gone back to that.  Seems only right when I'm in the middle of taking complete advantage of being a citizen of Europe).
 
Decided to stay in a hotel in Havlickuv-Brod if I can find one.  A woman came out of a Pension and waved me off – No, No!  (I must really smell after two night’s camping out).  Finally stayed in Hotel Slunce – and did a load of washing which I might have to drape over the bicycle to dry tomorrow.   The amount of dirt in the shower pan had to be seen to be believed.   

After dismantling the camp, it was a beautiful morning’s cycle.  I really like the Czech countryside – the small amount I’ve seen so far.  I’ve passed through several villages (about 2-4km apart) in varying stages of regeneration or entropy.  Some houses have brand new rooves, new double glazing and satellite dishes; others have old tiles missing, plaster falling off exposing huge cracks in the infrastructure, and old lace curtains hanging limply from cracked windows.  There seems to be a fashion for removing all the plaster cladding from buildings and just leaving unpointed brickwork or stone work exposed.   I stopped and took pictures of a sad old church with onion domes, remains of stained glass windows still evident, gaping holes in the roof, and overgrown graveyard.  It must have been magnificent in its time and made me appreciate the value of our own churches and monuments. 
 
In some places I could have been cycling along the Teign valley – deciduous woods and green fields, then the landscape would pan out again into great plains of rape and wheat – with the addition of grape vines.  Weird poles rigged up with wires so the vines can climb to the skies.  There was also a couple of fields full of a purple flower I didn’t recognize, but it had a leaf that looked like one that belonged to a pea.  Lots of poppies growing along the verges too.  I love them.  The minor road I’m following also looks like it was lined with granite posts at one time, but now they are all leaning drunkenly, or fallen down the slope and buried, or just plain missing – like my gappy smile, now that Presh the Moreton dentist has finished with me.  I am mostly succeeding in avoiding busy roads, thanks to Komoot (the German website which specializes in finding cycle routes).  This is a ‘good thing’ as the main roads have virtually no shoulder to cycle on so cars have to overtake or stay behind, and I can feel their impatience. 
 
Most places in the Czech republic seem to take euros as well as the Czech Krone – so I haven’t yet obtained any Crowns.  I’m also rather ignorant about the exchange rate but it all seems very cheap compared to Germany and the rest of Europe. 
 
Out of interest – I went in search of the identity of the dead snake I photographed the other day (I’ve even seen another smaller squashed one of the same species since).  Mario thought it was a ‘blind worm’ – same as our slow worm.  But I know slow worms very well, from my days of finding lots of them sunning themselves in between the turf and concrete on the steps leading down to the main road from Orchard Park Council Estate, Wales, as a small child (poor things).  Those don’t have white spots on their heads.  Grass snakes, however, do.
Grass snakes (non venomous and very shy), I also learned, can do an excellent imitation of being dead too – lying around with their tongues lolling out.  I’m fairly sure that the one I photographed really WAS dead, mind, as it was lying in a puddle of dried blood.  
 
Today’s road kill:  one yellow song bird – reddish-brown back and wings, yellow mostly (don’t know what that one was) and an entire dead deer lying in a ditch.  Cars are lethal things – if I didn’t realize before I’m convinced now.   Didn’t stop to examine the latter, but the former looked perfect, like it had gone to sleep. 
 
Had an early supper (or late lunch, whichever way you want to look at it) at about 3pm in a Motel/restaurant.  I’ve been feeling the lack of veggies, so roast courgettes, red peppers, red onions, green beans and chicken breast was wonderful.  A little knitting and a little blogging and before I knew it, two and a half hours gone.  So, when I saw a camping sign about 5miles up the road, I decided to call it a day. 
 
This is a legitimate campsite beside a lake and woodlands, between Rewičov and Trtice (try saying those place names after a couple of beers).  It seems  to be full of Dutch, French and German campers – and the owner speaks excellent English.   The site is clean, with excellent facilities – all very pleasant.  I get completely up to date with three daily drawings. 
 
Later in my tent, rummaging through my bag, I find a bar of chocolate with “Hi There!” on the wrapping.  Inside is a note from Susanne, Roswitha and Rainer thanking me for making them a part of my adventure – it’s taken me a couple of days to find it, but what a lovely surprise!  Thanks Susanne!  Chocolate scoffed in no time at all, but a good excuse to go to the super, duper bathroom with its automatic, magic sensory light and water that comes on just by passing ones hands under the tap, to brush my teeth. 
www.campingfrymburk.cz
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The camp site – and THE most expensive place yet – double the price of the youth hostel!  More than the double bedroom and meal included! – and I had to pay for WIFI!!!! – €5!  And not even reliable WIFI!  When I queried having to pay €20 (€15+wifi) for my little tent and bicycle they said it was because it was so close to Prague – I tell you I’ve NEVER paid so much to camp with my tent before, even in the UK, not anywhere yet in Europe - RIP OFF!  Don’t go there!  Can one tell that I’m not a happy bunny?   The perfectly pleasant campsite by the lake was only €6 and I’d have not baulked at €10 – but €15?    
 
To be fair – the showers were fabulous, and there was a nice little kitchen area with a kettle and camping stove (which I made this morning’s porridge on) and, if I’d stayed longer, there was a small swimming pool which looked inviting BUT it was a tiny site with my wee tent sandwiched between two enormous camper vans.  It was ironic that I was watching “Let’s Dance” with Susanne and Roswitha a week ago –and I could see this week’s episode on a huge screen through the windscreen of the German campervan next to me last night. 
 
I think I confused the young girl in reception when I paid as she didn’t realize that I’d already stayed – so was writing me out a piece of paper to attach to what?  The bicycle? 
 
I will let it go, chalk down to experience and move on.  Not that far – it was so hot and muggy I was smearing everything I touched and was covered in a wet sheen.  I lay down in some grass around lunchtime and had a snooze for an hour or so.  It’s no wonder I’m so slow.  I could see black clouds gathering in the distance.
I was following the railway line out of Prague (which makes navigation easy) – and it was lovely in the woods (though I doubt if I was completely on the right track at one stage, when it nearly disappeared in some woods).   I was looking forward to the storm breaking as it was so stuffy. 
 
The wind picked up strongly, buffeting me sideways.   The sky under the clouds turned yellow and thunder rumbled in the distance.  The temperature dropped by several degrees, which wasn’t as pleasant as one had anticipated.  I started looking for shelter – which came in the shape of a restaurant in Česky Brod.  I had a greek salad while watching the rain come down out of the window.  (Ok, I confess, Jenny – and another small beer).    This restaurant seemed to be a mecca for local, lycra clad cyclists (who paid no attention to me, knitting in the corner).
 
After the downpour, I emerged into a much less muggy, but rather soggy, washed world and set off again.  I was back in the countryside now, and relieved to be out of the city (though I could see Prague had the potential to be a wonderful place to spend more time exploring).   Just before I got to a village called Kourim I started looking out for a wild camping spot (particularly as an antidote to last night).  The first interesting looking lane I spotted led me to a row of beehives – it would have been ideal - mowed grass in a pretty orchard – but I didn’t want to have to explain myself to a beekeeper so I moved on.  The second spot was a snail heaven – they were everywhere – but it wasn’t too far from the road, yet hidden behind a hedge and raised banks and the grass had been mown also.   Perfect and I slept well.

Leaving the youth hostel and walking away from the River Vitava, I stumble upon a beautiful small park opposite grand terraced houses (one with New York enscribed on it) called Havlicek Gardens or Park – built in Renaissance style (I looked that up – I wouldn’t have had a clue!) – there were fountains and strange rock formations and well maintained gardens.  There were signs to “Pavilon” and “Vila” (sic) with winding paths lined with benches.  Best of all, the view over Prague from the Grōbe Villa was stunning.  Couldn’t have planned it better. 

It was then a steep walk down cobbled streets from the Park into what might have been a quite trendy area if the few shops I spotted were anything to go by – a wonderful children’s bookshop called Baobab where I spent a good half hour browsing, and opposite, a small textile shop which made (by the look of it) bespoke socks, children’s clothes and anigarumi (eclectic, then). 

From there, I gradually made my way out of town and the landscape got more residential with the large highrise blocks of flats I’ve come to expect in Eastern Europe– and an enormous shopping mall with a Tesco, Macdonalds etc.  I took a picture of a modern multicoloured office block that I couldn’t take my eyes off.
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Gradually the buildings spaced out, and I moved away from the main arteries of the city onto back roads and I came upon a camp site, where I decided to stay for the night.