After a week or more in Prague touring castles and sampling food, our next stay in the Czech Republic was in a small rural town. It lay 90 minutes outside of Praha. We were hoping for a hillside experience, something that resembled a more realistic picture of what the Czech lifestyle was like outside of the city center and tourism. A converted apartment in an upper room of an old brewery overlooking the town church and square seemed a good bet. It was.
Our host greeted us at a bus station in Prague, over an hour from where we would be staying the next couple of days.
“Yo bri den!” I nodded after a few investigative glares were exchanged amidst the crowds of people. Neither of us knew what the other looked like.
“Ah, Ahoj! Bobby and Brooke? Yo bri den! So you speak Czech already?”
“Well, no. That’s all I’ve got. But we are trying!”
“Ah. Well keep it up! All you need is this: Yedno prove Proseem.” One beer please.
Marek had lightning grey hair and was an ever smiling man with a slight gap between each tooth. He was in his early thirties but looked older. Kind eyes and head nods made us feel comfortable trusting Marek very quickly. A PhD and actively researching Physicist, he was from Poland but called Czech home now. While we were to stay in an apartment he owned, he didn’t live there ever since he and his ex girlfriend of 10 years split. He now lived near Prague about an hour from where we would be staying. With the hospitality and charm unlike any we’d seen, Marek was an attentive and authentic listener. His questions came every few minutes with gentle, sustained pauses in between. We could tell he wasn't just being polite or trying to get to know us. He really did want to understand us. He didn’t hug us at first sight, bake us cookies, or leave a guide of the city. His hospitality was far more genuine that that. He had insisted on meeting us at the bus stop 90 minutes away from the town we were staying in. He wanted to be certain we made it to the converted apartment in the upper level of the centuries old brewery. From the get go he carried our heavy bags and opened every door he could for us. When he showed us the apartment, we sort of naturally spent an hour or so together as we unpacked and swapped music. He had bought us a melon which he sliced as he prepared tea for us in our new home for the next days. It was 2pm by the time we arrived at the apartment and even though he had other plans for the afternoon and would return to his home later that night, there was no rush to his demeanor. Melon and tea. Of course.
On the bus ride earlier that day Marek had casually mentioned he was climbing later that afternoon with a friend and said we could join if we wanted to.
“Um, is that a real offer? Because if it is, I’m in for sure.” What Marek didn't know was that the past week I'd been googling and daydreaming about climbing in Czech, and even going as far as posting in climbing sites to find some sort of climbing partner. My insides were screaming, "it's a miracle!” I glanced at Brooke for approval. I was always doing that, not planning the plans I erratically made for us both.
“Of course. That will be nice.” Just like that.
After the melon, music, and tea we walked through cobblestone paths to pick up a friend, Evol. Marek had filled us in that Evol was a very, very strong climber. He also was called Evosh by his close friends. This was a blend of words that we took to be “Beer lover + Evo”. A knock on the door and out popped Evolsh. He was older than I expected, in his late thirties or more, and had 2 kids. I made note that we were going climbing on a weekday afternoon with a man who has 2 kids and who was a very good climber. We later learned he climbed 3-5 times a week entirely outdoors and only ever on lead. The car ride was speedy and normal with a few Czech words mixed in that I recognized from my Grandpa and Dad’s vocabulary. Manicka (Maneeshka) meant little maria, and was an enduring term for a young girl. My dad called me Babooshka.
When we arrived at the parking lot around 3pm Evosh took off. I could tell he loved climbing and he reminded me of myself when I take others with me climbing who have no business being there. He stayed ahead of us, but it didn’t seem to rush Marek as he strolled through the forest at a leisurely pace. This forest was unique to any I’d seen before. Evol would stop every few minutes to point out mushrooms we could eat, and species of moss and flowers that interested him. It wasn’t until the cancers I realized that this forest, this town, this was were Evol belonged. This was as much his home as any home had ever been to any person, and he belonged to it the way gulls belong in the sea air. Marek could see this too, and we shared a moment of awe watching a man fit in to an environment so well.
Cancers are the same thing as crayfish and Evosh was dead set on finding some. Apparently last week there had been a cancer sighting in the tiny creek we stepped over. I wouldn’t even have noticed there was water running and it was more a trickle in moist scummy soil. Watching this grown man hop around in the bushes looking for cancers cannot be erased from my memory.
We arrived at the quarry 20 minutes later and traded catches on the wall for a few hours. Evosh was a freak for sure and his body was wrapped so tight the tendons popped like muscle. Marek and I were far enough away from his level the pressure was way off and we were free to simply enjoy movement of the vertical. Evosh didn't seem to know how to do anything but enjoy it, even if his route was incredibly difficult. We wandered back slowly in the dark and decided to head to the pub for beers.
Evosh opted to park his car at home and not risk a run in with the police. After he dropped us I asked Marek if he had some trouble with the police. Honestly, this wouldn’t surprise me. He was quiet and wild enough his past could be anything. As it would be though he simply wanted to avoid the risk of a DUI. One beer will do it in Czech, and he only lived a 5 minute walk away.
“Nas Dravi!” Smoke filled the only bar open in the square. It sat across the lot from the church and the steeple cast a moonlight shadow over us. It would have been too intimidating to enter without locals. Territoried by a man with a severe limp and strong faced men in the corner, we wouldn't have known it was an option for us. The guys ordered for us and a whole plate of diced raw onions came out next to a round of pale looking sausage with rye bread. Evosh crammed it into his mouth responsively. Even this action was just right. I can't explain it, but it was purely Czech to the best of my knowing. Beers followed, naturally.
Marek smiled as he sensed our uneasiness. We also ordered a local favorite, cured fish. From what we could tell this was raw fish that had been cured over low smoke for a while. It retained its raw sliminess but had the texture and flavor of a texas smokehouse brisket. It was salty, meaty, and delicious and we ordered a second. Food in Czech was consistent in that it always has strong flavors. Not delicate flavors, or even flavors I would say are nice. But like the people, the food was strong, powerful, undisturbed. I later wrote in my travel journal “observation: we are eating far less food than back home - getting full in Czech in the pub after climbing with just raw onion, cold sausage, and small portion of moist smoked and cured fish with some bread.” It was all we had eaten since the melon and tea 8 hours ago and we were STUFFED!
Marek decide to head out earlier than the rest of us. He nearly missed the last bus of the evening and considering the 90 minute commute he had ahead of him, not one of us could blame him for darting off, beer half full. He had work in the morning. This go around though, he did hug us goodbye. Evosh stayed for another round and complained about how the beer used to be foamier, real Czech beer! I could see where he had gotten his nickname as beer went down as easy for him as it did for me.
We fell asleep looking at the stars through a ceiling window Marek had installed himself. Our heads fell towards each other and we were left pondering, “Did this just happen? Was that a real day? What a time!”
The last days in the area were spent walking for hours through farms, small neighboring villages, wandering through creeks and sampling local cuisine. We bought ingredients and cooked most all our own food. I wrote down a recipe for a hot sandwich I made:
“Kielbasa seared in a pan, chicken, onion, gouda, garlic, arugula, and spinach sandwich on olive loaf warmed and toasted. Cook chicken cubed with sausage and garlic and serve gouda melted over. Toast bread on the stove with butter and garnish with the rest”.
The warm meal went perfectly with a cold beer. Everything in Czech did.
Evol(sh)
The man
stood in the door, narrow and eager,
beady wild young eyes
the man
drove fast hugging corners
back slumped smile wide and thin
the man
walked quickly, 30 paces ahead,
his route awaiting his towel
the man
took a longer than expected break,
cancers to spot, small but native,
a lone blackberry beckoning, plucked and popped in to chew
the man
changed his pants into a tight rag
relieved his snug skin-wrapped torso of carrying
the dark shirt with a collar
the man
drank water
the man
shoved 2 or three bites of bread into his
mouth as soon as possible after filling it
with onion and mixed sausage to prepare the room
the man
stayed even after others left
the man
walked home
The man has a child
the man is a boy
the man works some
the boy plays, always
the man is alive
the boy is free
boys become men become boys, hopefully
Be sure to check out our photos and video from the time in Czech Republic!