the sad story of the Island's strange resurrection

Despite petitions and protests (for details search label 'protest'), the Town council last year gave a go-ahead to brutal river-works under the label 'flood prevention'. Thus this beautiful historic town's meandering river is being given a straitjacket. And this morning, I woke up to the strangest sight -
-but before I tell you about this morning, if you haven't followed the saga of this beauty-spot's demise last year, or if you don't feel like searching the blog, perhaps I should give a short summary:
For centuries, the river Vltava with its three meanders hugged Cesky Krumlov's houses, reflected the glory of the castle above, brought wealth to the town and took away its dirt. The banks served as landing and unloading spaces, gathering places for washerwomen, as water-source for craftsmens' workshops, and as a drinking fount for animals. Though some of the banks were reinforced with stones, most shifted their shape from season to season, held only by ancient willows and alders whose roots became safe breeding spaces for fish and other river life. Every century or so a biggish flood would sweep through the town, but everyone knew this would pass and the riverside houses, built to withstand such floods, dried out and stood on.But now we have engineers, computers, and - glory of glories - European grants! What's more, now we like to think we can control Nature. So we can design nice, straight, computer-graphics and Powerpoint driven designs, and ruin what Nature shaped for centuries in one fell swoop. Just look at those straight, concrete-reinforced banks now! And so, for a year now, men in hard hats with massive earth-moving machinery have been at work like big boys in a sandpit. And one of the most gloriously romantic spots in town, its narrow island with trees and much local wildlife, was bulldozed to oblivion. When people protested, the Town Hall promised they would build a new island - a 'hydrodynamic' one, 'akin to an aircraft wing'. We thought they must have been making a very bad joke. But no.
So here we come to these last few days. Truly, a horrendous artificial island, reinforced and sterile, grew under the main bridge. And truly, it has the dimensions of a flat aircraft-wing. On it, a proud stone tablet, like some sad grave-stone, lists sponsors who supported this 'gift to the town's citizens'. Amusingly, the main sponsor is the company that owns the quarries that supplied all the stones for the straitjacket now gracing the riverbanks. Nice to know they had some cash to spare :-)And so we get to this morning: I was aghast as I saw something that looked like Christo the artist has come to town. Blokes with sheets of geo-fabric wrapping the new island, using 6 inch nails to fix it to the stony ground. 6 inch nails! - imagine what will happen when the water rises just a bit :-) - and then I watched them scratch their chins deciding how to plant a few tiny trees so they are in properly ordered straight line. Well, we'll watch this space, maybe I am biased and it'll all look wonderful in a year's time... if the willows are tough enough to root in soilless heap of stones.
As some of you know, we bought our riverside house last year, when it stood in the most romantic spot of the whole Cesky Krumlov. The romance is somewhat lessened now, as you can see, but I feel sad not for our sake only - I feel sad for the town that used to have its ancient architecture softened by the greenery of its riverside trees, by the organic way the river and the buildings fitted together. Of course I still love being here and I enjoy the river and its gifts despite the straitjacket - we all do (see my two blogs just below). But it's a pity that at a time when the rest of the civilised world is tearing down such brutal 'flood prevention' structures and reverting to organic river management, here no-one in authority - EU or UNESCO - lifted a finger to point out such new directives, no conservationist body or Green or ECO parties intervened: seems that money really does make the world go round.

Better than dreaming.

Just moments ago, I had the weirdest, most wonderful experience:
in the blog below, I waxed lyrical about the gifts of the riverside living in the midst of this busy town. And now those gifts have all combined - I went for an evening swim just here on the bank in front of the house. The night was falling, the water was fresh but pleasant, and as I drifted in the current, I floated some 100 yards downstream which happens to be by the Brewery gardens, where Jose Cura's recital was in full swing. The orchestra and the voice boomed over the silent water, one great Puccini aria after another. And in the other direction, up river, there glowed the castle, lit up in its fairytale evening garb. The combination of the three senses - the sounds, the water, and the magical light were undescribably special. I stayed in the water, still, for ages, not wishing to break the spell.
And again I thanked the gods for the gifts that one can get. You see, it has been a hot hot day, and the town was full of VIPs and limos as today is the first day of the International music festival. All these bigwigs came to crowd around and be important inside the Brewery gardens. Yet there I was, alone, experiencing the beautiful music heightened by my watery solitude.... And when I got home, I just managed, from the balcony, to take this picture of the festival opening fireworks, as the concert came to its end.Life can be truly magical sometimes.

The pleasures of Krumlov riverside

Despite of the continuing river works, life at the riverside is back to Krumlov Summer normal. And for the first Summer season we are enjoying the privileged position of being right by where it all happens - so sitting in the garden is like being in a front row of a theatre, watching the life go by as it has done for years, when Krumlov becomes both a sophisticated tourist town and a simple beach.
Hundreds of canoes pass by, their crews shouting Ahoy - canoeing and rafting being such a popular sport in this land-locked country that I know no-one who hasn't 'done the river' at least once in their lives. The canoeists usually take a week or two going from up the river as far as they can get (theoretically you could go all the way to Prague if you'd negotiate the few dams along the way), sleeping in camps or rough anywhere along the banks.
And our little street that backs onto the river also becomes a sort of beach - I meet my neighbours, young and old, in the morning and in the evenings going for a swim, or just say hello to them sunbathing by their gardens. And I watch from the window the fun everyone is having. This is the most wonderful part of living in this little town - I can be sitting outside working at my computer but I still feel I am on holiday, surrounded as I am by the relaxed, happy people who actually are.
And then after my swim, like this evening, I can dress into a formal gear and attend a concert - Krumlov is always having some festivals, from classical to jazz etc. And these are not just any old concerts, the quality is high. Next week for example Jose Cura is giving a performance here.

Going home, as evening darkens, Krumlov comes alive with many drifting sounds competing gently as they ooze from little riverside bars and restaurants - a guitar here, a piano there, gypsy music on the opposite bank...
So the daytime beach becomes a sophisticated venue by the evening, only to relax back into a kind of homely place to eat and stay up late. As I go to bed I tend to hear distant laughter from below my windows, along with the lapping of the Vltava river. Life feels so pleasant - how could I ever have thought that the only place to live is London?

another small step forward

Another little bit of floor done at the Riverside house. I am particularly pleased, as this back corridor floor has been put back exactly as it was, having been discovered under 1970's tiles. We needed to lift everything so as to put heating and water pipes under and to clean and dry out the old old brick-tiles that were in a bad state because they couldn't breathe under the latter day concrete and adhesive. But it was great to discover that this corridor, leading to the back garden, had this stone walkway surrounded by bricks. The stones are some 8'' thick, but the bricks only 1 and half inch thick - obviously the traffic was expected to be harder in the middle, so it all makes sense. So we laid the floor into fine gravel and sand - no cement, just as it would have been done before, to allow for evaporation of moisture from underneath. I think our conservation-minded reader 'Thud' will be pleased when he comes to visit! :-)

'Jesus' the carpenter

I promised to say more about my eclectic carpenter so here he is. He comes and goes as he pleases - or shall I say he appears - randomly, sometimes at 10.30 in the night suddenly one hears a sound of saw downstairs... then nothing for a month... but that's the way with him, one can't insist on any 'normality' because this is a man who lives somewhere between heaven and earth, and real life somehow doesn't fit in with his own existence. He doesn't speak, but when approached with an attempt at conversation, he stands still for an interminable time, then draws a deep, deep breath between his teeth. No words. And then at other times he offers out of the blue some totally unrelated stream of consciousness, such as his view on the immortality of souls. But if one accepts his strange ways, he delivers - not necessarily what one commissioned him to make, but certainly something original (such as the Neptune on this picture, a bathroom shelf with a difference). And you either like it or you don't. No-one would have made stairs like his - each with an individual character (see pic above). But one has to have the courage to let him get on with it in his own weird way. I happen to cherish his weird way because it adds to the house's soul. The house being so old and higgledy piggledy, for my mind (not necessarily always to my expectations) it grows into its fabric and I am not just agreed to what I have, but actually more pleased than I can say.
Now: why 'Jesus'? Well, what comes first, the chicken or the egg? Frantisek the carpenter played, for many years, the part of Jesus in the Passion plays at nearby Horice townlet. He really looked the part: tall, bearded, with a flowing mane, and really with his heart in it. Maybe it rubbed off on him, or maybe he was always the way he is, and that's why he was so convincing in the part? Out-of-this-worldly kind of guy. Whatever the reason, even now that he is retired from it, he stylises himself into the role, or else is still in the role, who knows.
All I know is that I love the quirky stuff he makes and I forgive him all his tresspasses :-)

Riverside house - work in progress

I realize that I haven't really been showing any progress on the house since Christmas time. Well, the 1st floor where we live has not changed much but now we are coming to the last phase on the downstairs - so here are some pics, as i took them this evening without bothering to put away any untidiness. It's work in progress after all.
I've spent an inordinate amount of time sourcing old materials, so the house can feel nice and lived in - even though of course I am not trying to live in a museum :-) so I'm perhaps a little eclectic in some respects. But I am particularly pleased with the floor in the main two rooms downstairs - the brick flooring came from an old attic and so no tile is the same; some bear soot marks, some are scratched, each an individual in its own right, but together they form such a lovely whole that I shall be sorry to put furniture down once it's finished. You can see that it is still not entirely laid down, Stephan the builder is still working on it. But we did put the same floor on the study and dining room floor upstairs and they look and feel great - and with underfloor heating they are heaven to live with. Not the easiest of surfaces to clean, but who cares, it's all part of the ageing process (we age together nicely...)
Another challenge is always the higgledy-piggledyness of the curved and nooky spaces that the house is offering: how do you fit a bathroom in that, for example? Well, it can be done. Upstairs I put an old (1880's) stained-glass window in the shower room (with some trepidation lest the conservation authorities make me take it out, but they loved it, thank god) - the window is one of a pair, the other is in the bedroom/hall wall. It makes the rather cramped space feel lighter and more generous, and most of all, fun.
And then I love finding old doors - the whole of the upstairs has 'new' old doors; sheer pleasure to touch every time. You kind of wonder how many hands touched them since they are over 200years old, and just look at those hinges and fittings :-)
The staircase has been completely renovated but in the style it would have been originally (we took the 'modern' 70's lavatory-style tiles it was covered in off, mended what needed be and the carpenter (more on him in a separate blog!, a wonderful person) made these treads out of an old sycamore I bought from someone who had it drying for 8 years in their garage but whose daughter was getting married so they needed the money and since I needed well seasoned wood.... I love these kind of mutually beneficial exchanges.
Anyway, more of the same to follow. I am in a great mood, seeing it all come together. The attic space will have to wait for a long time yet, but it is fantastic to think that when our family come to visit in a week's time, they'll be staying in a place that is finished and functioning.

Moving house, and cats saga

Well, you can see a somewhat exhausted couple of figures here. Moving during Christmas is not the most relaxing of activities - but hey, the photos are from our first night in the house, with hastily thrown-together furniture and a few pictures up. (Always hang pictures first, I say, that's what makes a home from home. Oh, and then the books of course...that's if you have the shelves ready, which we didn't, yet). Not that the whole house is finished. Even now, builders are still working in the attic and downstairs - but the first floor is where we are settling in. My study, at least, now has the required shelves at last, my internet is working again, the rest is kind of functional and still lots and lots of boxes of books and clothes and stuff. Stuff! (that's the hardest to deal with) How the furniture and pics will end up, we'll have yet to see. But it is already beginning to feel like home, and living in this old old house feels a real privilege.

What we seem to have spent most of our time on, though, during this time, was chasing after our male cat. He obviously wasn't happy about the move: over his 3+ years he fought and won a large territory, which his instinct told him to go and attend to no matter what. We knew that would be the case, so we decided to keep both our cats locked in for a week or two - but you should have heard the male cat's howls of derision at having a door closed, and being in a strange place to boot. Especially at night. It was quite unbearable, we felt SO guilty! So we thought, let's open the door to the balcony, at least. Well, he jumped the 12 feet or so, and was gone. He was gone for three days - we kept going up to the previous house, but no sign of him - and it was freezing cold out there- till one day we spotted him and brought him back to his new home. The next night the cat managed to dig an escape tunnel under the door to the garden - the floor there is still just sand and sharp shingle, waiting to be tiled with bricks. And so it went on - day after day he escaped, and day after day we spent hours looking for him - enough if a builder left the door open for a minute, or whatever. But the last few days he suddenly decided that he won't try again. He just stays at home, and doesn't even complain. Eats, plays, sleeps in our bed. So we hope that maybe, just maybe, he has forgiven us. And that eventually he may just decide that this new territory, with the garden and the riverbank, with ducks and plenty of natural cover but no other male cat in sight, will provide enough adventure for the next chapter in his life too.
Needless to say, the little female has taken to the new house with no problems: I let her out every day and she just comes back by herself.
Well. I guess when we are a little more sorted out I will make some proper photos to put up (By the way the pink on the photos is nowhere as pink in reality!). Meanwhile wish us well, please, and let's hope the builders finish soon!

Riverside house progress

I haven't been blogging about the progress down at the Riverside much, because so much of our energy and most of our finances were this year devoted to the (so much bigger and complex) Lake house reconstruction. But we did slowly get on at the riverside, too. Here, the basic structure and layout was given - due to the fact that the house's historic walls cannot be tampered with (and who would want to). So the task was to try and respect what there is and replace unsuitable late 20th century reconstructions with more natural materials. The only changes to the actual building were our discovery and renovation of the historic ceiling in the 1st floor sitting room, two copies of other wooden ceilings that were beyond repair (- the original of one of them was carefully removed and placed in the archive of the local museum) and the removal of 50cm of solid concrete from the ground floor which was making the whole ground floor damp, encouraging water to spread up into the walls, and generally making it hard for the house to 'breathe'. I also decided to swap bathroom and kitchen over - but that only involved taking down some plasterboard partitions; most of the other work is also cosmetic - getting rid of the 70's layer of horrible floor tiles that, again, were choking the house, and replacing them with reclaimed floor-bricks set in lime-based bed, taking down any cement render where there was any, and again rendering in lime-sand mixture, and painting the walls with lime, too. This of course only in places where the old render and decorative finishes were beyond saving. I originally hoped to use clay plaster in some of the rooms, but the budget didn't allow it - however the properties of the lime render and finish are as healthy for the house as the clay would have been, so I am not too worried. We threw away most of the modern doors and sourced historic ones where possible. We lined the old chimney, making it suitable later (when there's money) for wood-fired stoves in the 1st floor sitting room and kitchen, and an open fireplace on the ground floor. The last addition was a new central heating boiler - I managed to beg lovely old radiators from a demolition site - not quite 'historic' but so much more friendly aesthetically than the usual suspects. That's about it for now: we shall be moving into the first floor very soon, having prepared the ground floor and the attic for the later stages of the opus :-)
It's been lovely so far, and although hard work, just being in such close contact with the soul of such an old old house is a privilege and a gift: every time I touch its stone walls or scrape tiny bits of new plaster off the layers of paint underneath it, I feel how brief our human time-span is compared with the work of human hands. So being one of those who are passing through this building, I am trying to do minimal damage, so as to leave it healthy for the generations that will come after us.
(For the history of this house and the steps in our reconstruction of it, see previous posts under 'riverside house' label)

The first residents at the riverside house

As the riverside house is far from ready to move into, we are spending happy hours civilising its garden in the meanwhile. Ever since we started, a couple of blackbirds followed our every move, getting worms out of the freshly dug earth, and generally being extremely friendly and unafraid. Well, now they've settled in, beating us to it :-)
They found a lovely nook in the wall under the balcony and we watched the male busily flying in and out feeding his mate who sat on the eggs. And now there are 4 fresh chicks there. We waited for a moment when Mum flew off to feed to take their photo - the quality of the pictures is not so good as it's done with a zoom, but still...

The joys and the sorrows of reconstruction

What a lovely thing to report: the larger of the two ceilings at the river house has revealed itself. A lovely old man who is an expert for this kind of work took the top planks off, cleaned them and oiled them and injected some stuff into the woodworm-weakened bits. Then we uncovered the underside of the ceiling and the planks were replaced.
Voila! here is a view that was hidden for up to some four hundred years. We even found a date scratched into the gable end wall above the ceiling - 1638. It may or may not be the actual date the ceiling was put there, but from its shape and manner, the conservationists all agree it's near enough (sorry, that's the best pic I could get). I fancy that the ceiling might have been built during the time the Krumlov scribe lived there (see below) as he was the only one of the long string of occupants who might have had enough money to do it? Anyhow: the main beams will now also be cleaned and preserved, and we should enjoy living in its presence from now on. Feels good.
What doesn't feel good is that due to a huge tax bill on the sale of our previous property I shan't have enough to do everything I hoped to achieve. Wouldn't mind if I knew the money was going to good purposes but when I see how public funds get squandered (see 'protest' below), I'd rather be able to spend mine on employing local craftsmen and preserving historic buildings such as this one. There: it's off my chest. Grrr.

some history of the riverside house

For those who might enjoy this sort of thing, here is an extract from the search report on our newly acquired Cesky Krumlov house at Parkan. I find it very moving to now know the names of some of the people who passed through the house. One wanders through the (still empty) rooms and imagines their lives. Where they ate, slept, worked... how their lives passed, whom they loved...

Characteristics: A mediaeval building, re-built in renaissance style in the second half of 16th century. Other major rebuilds happened in the classicist period around 1800 and in the 2nd half of 19th century. Modernisation of ground floor and some upper floor rooms took place in 1990s.

Successive owners during the early parts of the building's history:
The first available record shows one Melichar, a weaver, who died in 1519. In that year the house was sold by Tomas of Mysleny, alias Pint, probably a testament executor, to cobbler Girgl, who lived in the house only till 1524. He sold the house to Jan Nevrlec, who again only owned it for a short period and sold it in 1524 to tanner Hanzl. Hanzl married a widow of tanner Ambroz, and lived there till his death in 1572. His wife then remarried and her new husband, tanner Linhart Kropf, continued running the tannery workshop. But soon Hanzl's son Prokop took over the house and sold it, in 1584, to one Martin Krumlovian - originally from Trebon, a Rosenberg scribe. In the 1590s, the records mention canner Ursula, widow of next door's blacksmith Havel. In 1596 the house had three chimneys (could have served the cannery workshop), but in 1602 there is only one. Canner Ursula sold the house in 1605 to Michal Wagner, who sold it in 1611 to spurs-maker Hans Temel. In 1637 Temel sold the house to a rope-maker Alxandr Prenner, who lived there till 1654.

What amused me was that the report now says 'no newer owners were searched for'. NEWER? Obviously, in a town reaching so far in history anything beyond mid-17th century is 'new'.

The renovation works continue

Every day, I wake up at 5am and drive to the Lake House for 6am to meet with my project supervisor and the workmen. The Czechs get up early. For someone used to a British timetable this is quite something. But the works are now progressing at a good pace and the ground floor is coming to the point when I can see the end of the tunnel. The electrics, the water and the heating are now in place and the wounds that their installation has caused the house are healed over. Being a house built of stone - and some stones are enormous - one has to try to take all pipes etc through floors rather than hack into walls. But even then some bits of wall needed to be rebuilt - for example, most of the lintels over doors and upstairs windows were completely rotten so their removal meant having to dismantle what's over them. Without causing too much damage. Not easy. But the guys working there are so lovely and careful, I am quite happy with the result. The next big stage will be the roof - I dread to think about it as all of the main beams that rest on the top of the walls are also rotten through. We hope to hever up the roof (once the old tiles are removed) and replace the rotten beams without the need for taking the whole structure apart. Right now we are interviewing roofing companies. Of course so far all of them think we should make a completely new roof. The search continues....
Meanwhile, at the house by the river in Krumlov, the attic has been cleared down to the top of the historic ceilings and we have an expert restorer who will start carefully taking them apart to renew them. It was funny to listen to the workmen clearing the mud-and-brick insulation over the ceilings: they think we are completely mad, of course. Especially looking at the salvaged bits of the even older ceiling that makes our conservationists friends burn with passion: The planks of wood, blackened by centuries of use and with bits of them eaten through by woodworm, look like something that should be burnt straightaway but the workmen are not allowed to touch them, just VERY carefully clean the top of them. 'OK', they humour us, shaking heads and winking at eachother: 'If that's what you want...'

conservation research

Not sure if anyone's really interested in the details of our search (see blog below), but I am finding it all very exciting and can't resist posting at least some observations, as the initial confusion begins to lead to at least a partial enlightenment.
Looking at the layers of decorative stencilling on the 1st floor, we get information about the age of the walls, and the approximate date of the major reconstruction(s?) that caused such an upheaval to the layout of the rooms and the ceilings. Here you can see an early 20C stencil (floral).
Under it is this gentler green design, then a couple of (pinkish) layers that won't separate but then you get two blue patterns, one on top of the other (the darker blue design is the older). The main partition wall's layers end here. It's a lovely, generous stencil in deep blue, with grey band around the floor level and a grey-blue strip below the ceiling. Our expert dates it to mid-19th C, which confirms the reconstruction having taken place at the time when ceilings had to be hidden or gotten rid of by decree. (Quite why the then builders had to chop the ceiling off at the partition is another question though - but on that later).
The outside wall's decorative layers continue deeper - the reds probably baroque, the black probably as old as the 16th C, which would date the 1st floor and above being built around that time (the ground floor is a vaulted Middle Ages space).

We racked our brains though: where is the main interior wall that would have originally supported the large ceiling? The beams that remained at their original length suggest a 25x25ft room, a heavy ceiling... but apart from the 'new' partition there is no supporting wall for the original length. We paced the place, we measured, we traipsed up and down the attic stair to compare but no matter how we tried, the direction of the imagined wall would have led right into one of the windows. Then an idea: perhaps the window wasn't there in the first place, and was added ad the same time as the reconstruction we are talking about? We looked at the plan and sure enough there are 5 windows in the facade at that level - 2 and 2 on the outsides with exact distances between them, and a middle one that isn't so exact. Just a theory this (so far) but it is possible that the classicist facade we see now is the result of someone's 'grand design' to modernise their house and bring in more light.....
I am sure we shall get the answers eventually. For now, I am on tenterhooks :-)

the joys and sorrows of reconstruction

One of the duties of a new owner of any listed building is that before any reconstruction can begin, and in order to even ask for a planning permission, one has to get a thorough 'historic research' done on the fabric of the building and on its archive history. Which is great, I totally approve of the conservationist approach because I love and respect old buildings with a passion - although others here revile the conservationists for interfering.
Well, so we started - otherwise we'll have nowhere to live if we tally too much. So in I went with my architect friend who officially oversees the project, the project engineer who specialises in historic buildings, and my dear friend who owns the Museum of building crafts in Cesky Krumlov, and has years of local experience as Krumlov's top conservation consultant. Why am I giving you all their professional qualifications? Because the expedition to the house turned into a huge argument - each expert saw different priorities for conservation, each wants different things exposed and preserved, or indeed covered up and conserved. And in the middle of it is me (my partner is in England now) with my own imagination of which way to take the house. Everyone means well, but there is no single way! (and this is not all - the report and the project design have to then be submitted to the regional conservation body who might have yet another view...)
Well, like I said, the house dates back to Middle Ages. Since then its many generations of owners did what they deemed practical for the time the house was in their care. Sometimes it is quite easy to peel the layers back, but sometimes the successive re-builds result in such a puzzle that it is almost impossible to see how the original house might have been conceived, and indeed, it is hard to decide which of the historic re-builds to take as the bits that will be exposed. Should one force the mediaeval look back onto the house, or should one stick to the 19th century rebuild? This, too, is history after all. The only thing that we all agreed on is to get rid of anything that appeared since the 1970s which is all a very shoddy B&Q type do-it-yourself job.
My first hope when we bought the house was to recover and expose the renaissance ceiling. But the rooms below suggested that its original size would have stretched over some partitions so the whole disposition of the first floor didn't tally with the imagined size of the ceiling. 'Easy', I thought. 'We'll knock the new partitions down, and re-build the missing walls under it, the ceiling is worth bringing back to life'. I nursed this idea because Krumlov has many such ceilings that were discovered hidden under boards and reed-scree. The reason for this was that during Maria Therezia's time (mid 19thC) a decree was given to get rid of all wooden ceilings because they were fire hazard. So people hid them, rather than have the trouble of removing them. So I thought this would be another such re-discovered beauty.

Well, having had the first small glimpse of the existence of the ceiling on Saturday, I now spent the whole day with a builder in clouds of dust carefully removing lines of floor bricks and filler-rubble from the attic trying to trace the outline of the main ceiling and also looking in other places for signs of the disposition of smaller ceilings - to discover the original lay-out of the rooms below. Or so we thought.... as what we discovered was a total patchwork of perhaps three or four different re-build epochs: part of the posh ceiling, but much of it removed and replaced by half-timbers and weird layers of planks. Nothing made sense. Which is the point at which my three wise counselors started to tear their respective hair out. And my idea of getting rid of the 'modern' partitions underneath was also put to rest, as they turn out to be at least 150 years old. Well, whatever gets decided, it won't be easy!
I don't know what will be the result of all this.
I wonder what you think of all this, Thud....

Madness???

OK, I might as well come out with it. We have embarked on another big adventure, having sold our large and by now comfortable house on the hill over Krumlov to buy a smaller, dilapidated one on the river instead. Everyone thinks we are mad, or obsessed with renovations - which may well be true. Well, what are we losing? A house that was lovely, but too big for what we need, and expensive to run. And what are we gaining? Hopefully some means of doing up the Lake house properly, and a promise of a 'just right' town house in the most romantic street in Krumlov - even though it remains to be seen whether there be enough money to do both up 100%. But we'll see. Houses on this part of the river don't come up on the market as a rule, so the opportunity was too hard to resist.

The biggest challenge is the practical situation of having two houses under total reconstruction so we'll live in chaos for a while. Also, as the riverside house is classified as a National monument, there's much paperwork and dealing with conservation authorities - but I don't mind as my philosophy is to give the house what it needs, historically, so I am happy to cooperate with them. It just all takes time and effort.

Well, what can I say about the house itself? All the houses in this street (Parkan) date back to the Middle ages when the two parts of Krumlov were each surrounded by defence walls. People started to use them as handy support for dwellings, so the 'heart' of each of these houses is the old wall, some 2m thick. Over the centuries the houses have undergone many shape-changes, mainly to the upper floors. And so we have found, for example, an old (16C?) wooden carved ceiling, hidden between the 1st floor plaster and the attic floor - in a pretty poor state, alas (the photo is taken by camera suspended under the attic floor). The worst shape change happened during the last owners' residence, when they built seemingly illogical new partitions in the first floor, and (for example) put a wc INTO the old chimney! There'll be much that needs looking into, researching and restoring.

Here are a few photos to illustrate this adventure. The interior ones were taken yesterday, when we finally got the keys. And I shall keep you posted of the developments. Fingers crossed..... Meanwhile, here is the Summer view from the garden, which shows what has driven us to do this. Isn't it a view 'to die for'???


(apologies to the author of the aerial photo for having pinched it off the web - but then I hope he doesn't mind the extra publicity??)