CENTRAL EUROPE: part three... CESKY KRUMLOV

Our bus trip from Vienna Toward Prague allowed me to compare these landscapes of wheat & sunflowers with those from the western Kansas plains of my childhood…

While our itinerary gave top billing to the three capitols of Budapest, Vienna & Prague, there was, tucked into the day we drove from the second to the third city, a stop which arrested our imaginations. A castle & its town named Cesky Krumlov was a stunning visual surprise. This collection of frescoed walls lift fantasy towers above street-front decorations proves the possibility to find oneself rather truly lost in time.

One further depth to the illusion was to see a rare example of a Rennaissance theatre, with a stage much deeper than the audience containing a system of flats which could be almost instantly shifted by a turning axel under the stage to quickly change scenes. It seems that fireworks were often used to further heighten these moments… thus causing said rarity.

We saw it in action only via our group’s imagination stimulated by a wonderfulguide,an American who has lived there for many years with a profound appreciation for this gem. I am going to allow you to make your own tour, only if you wish, with my version of a silent slideshow. Just poke about my views as you wish. Meet me on the other side of town…

Begin with this photographic overview from the web…

Then refer to this Map of Cesky Krumlov Castle
if you want to peek deeoer into the buildings.




There was a minor show on the river,
which obviously attracts recreational boat traffic…
this one got high centered attempting to run the spillway…

I enjoyed this view of a saint with a sagging halo
causing him to be seemingly on his phone with a mouthpiece…

I found these simple bells on a street stall…
note that the “evil eye” amulet, which is identical
to the one Stephen brought back last year from Istanbul,
reminding us that the Turks were long in this area.



The clouds gathered above deepening pastels of the town square, as did we, helping to overcome our reluctance to leave this fantasy lapsing four centuries onto the bus driving towards Prague.

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