Christmas at Forest House

Inspired by Salamander's landscapes in the post below, I thought to take a few pictures closer up, to show the fragile beauty of snow in miniature.

Well, this, too, is part of owning a remote cottage...

When you need to literally carve your way to the door, that's what I call a snowfall. And having a house in a remote location means not only an adrenalin-pumping drive along practically non-existent, white-on-white, deep and icy roads, but also having to fight your way towards the house itself :-) But it needs to be done: one needs to check whether pipes have not frozen inside, and whether there isn't too much snow on the roof - else you might come back when the days are warmer only to find plumbing disaster and collapsed eves. So, yes, we did find over a meter of snow in places on the barn roof (the shovel in the picture is 60cm wide) and it meant having to climb up and shovel it off. It turned out to be a lovely exercise, and we enjoyed the feeling of a job done as much as the cup of tea by the open fire inside afterwards. And - thanks to our having left our heating to temper the interior, no plumbing disaster.

Sorry about the quality of photos (phone) but I thought you might enjoy them nevertheless :-)

Winter walks on skis

When you feel like a walk in the middle of Winter, you'd have a hard time going unless you put on a pair of walking skis. There are two ways to enjoy this pastime: one, when you take yourself on the many kilometres of prepared cross-country, or 'langlauf' walkways, kept by the municipality and well signed.
You can buy maps that clearly mark these paths, and as moving on skis is faster than walking on foot, you can cover further distances in the Winter than you would in the Summer, and see much of the countryside, stop off in villages for a mulled wine or beer, go alone or in groups, and take it easy, or exercise your athletic prowess :-)

Two - and this is what I prefer - is to go into uncharted territory and make your own marks. There is nothing like the feel of the snow squashing under the narrow ski. Of course you don't cover as much ground as you would on a made-up langlauf highway, but, especially when going quite alone and being quiet you meet animals: hares, rabbits, deer.... I even saw a fox as I was coming back the other afternoon close to dusk.

I love this country with all it has to offer. And being here in Krumlov means you needn't go far to get these pleasures: five minutes outside the town, and you are in a forest. So you have the best of both worlds.

skating at Lipno lake

When Lake Lipno freezes over, as it does every Winter (and it freezes so deep that people even drive cars, even lorries, over - as ferries obviously don't operate at Winter time) it is time for families to go skating, a must for most people here. When much snow has fallen, the Lipno resort obliges by keeping a clear path over the ice - 11km long - so you can skate to your heart's content and it never gets crowded like normal municipal outdoor ice-rinks tend to at this time. They also keep a path for people on walking-skis - 'langlauf' being another activity beloved by Czechs of all ages and shapes. But that maybe is a subject for some other blog.
In the evening, tired and full of endorphins from the sun and the exhillaration of skating, you get an added bonus of the famously spectacular sunsets over the lake. What more can one ask of a piece of Nature?

spectacular snow

I know my co-expat Potok has also been blogging about this phenomenon, and so did I a year ago, but one can't help it: when the frost covers the trees and frost-on-frost snows come, it is what we've come to call 'a diamond time'. In very cold temperatures an extra layer of frost forms each night and as this country knows very little wind, the masses of crystals stay undisturbed, just grow in thickness and beauty - even on the snow that lies on the ground. So when the sun hits the landscape, it sparkles like millions of diamonds. Unfortunately it is impossible to photograph in its full glory, but here's at least a pale representation of it. So while downhill skiers enjoy the exhilaration of powder snow everywhere, a great alternative is to put on walking skis and slide quietly into the stillness of the forest, and then stop, and wait: Not a sound is heard, and nothing moves save for the occasional drop of snow from an over-heavy branch, sending showers of sparkly flakes through the blindingly bright rays of the sun, and one is in the presence of something eternal, timeless - just sheer, gloriously pristine beauty, a gift beyond imagining.
If only the politicians and all those busy businessmen who shape our future would find time to take themselves, alone and humbly, just for one day into such paradise - maybe we'd have a better world to look forward to?

half term pleasures

The family are here again - so I am again indulging in giving the children the opportunities that our little Southern Bohemian paradise offers. So little Anna and I (and a couple more Krumlov Brits), led by Sarka from Stable Pohoda, went for a fabulous late-afternoon horse ride in the snowy landscape, a great excitement for Anna as we didn't get home till the dark, the horses picking their way through the deep snow underfoot. Moments to stick in the child's memory - the sharp frosty air, the glistening snow in the pinkish sunset, the showers of powdery snow from branches overhead when riding among trees. And the total silence save for the soft crunch of the horses' hooves.
And then the daily tuition at the Lipno ski school, delivering fantastic value: the instructors here are brilliant, speak fluent English and really know how to get the best out of the children - Anna is now confidently skiing any hill on offer, and her 6yr old brother surprised us yesterday by showing perfectly relaxed turns and bombing down the red run with such joy that I couldn't believe my eyes!
Oh - and one more thing - we grown ups took a day discovering another 'local' resort, Karlstift, just over the Austrian border. Small, but just great for a single day out - 2 reds, one black, and one blue. Challenging enough yet almost empty of people. Highly recommended for those visitors to Krumlov who find the Lipno resort a little too easy or busy.

Winter ride

I haven't been blogging for a while (will fill you in on what's been going on, soon) but for now I'd love to share with you a beautiful, if a bit intrepid, day trip in the snow. The weather wasn't all that good, bit of snowfall among the bits of sunshine - but hey, who minds. Starting in Krumlov at dawn, we rode 60 kms (that's the distance by road, I don't know how many overland, but quite enough!), getting soaked through, then spending a wonderful warm lunch at a pub, with garlic soup, and tea with rum. Dry again, we rode back through woods and over fields. What a balm for the soul. Come and join us sometime! :-)

Krumlov to Forest House - the journey

There isn't any building work going on at the Forest House as it is mid-Winter, but I'd like to share with you the journey from Krumlov to the house and back - with a few pictures taken along the journey. I find it an incredible journey whatever season. Even though it's only a 15 minute drive, the last quarter it's like entering a different world, every time.

Winter diamonds (South Bohemia)

It's the time of the year when every blade of grass, every branch of a tree gets clothed in sparkling crystals of frost. My fellow 'Krumlov Brit' Potok and I went for a long walk in the sunshine today and truly, photos just don't capture the intensity of light, the sharp clear air and the jewel-like sparkle that almost blinds you as you make your way across the fields. But here is at least a pale reflection to share with you all.

Krumlov's first snow

This is what we've woken up to this morning: Krumlov is dusted in snow and from the open bedroom window one can hear excited children's voices. There is clearly something magical about first snow, every time. I am sure we all feel it, and carry that childlike excitement well into adulthood - I certainly do. Is it the way the air feels - so clean and fragrant, or the whole landscape - white and still and innocent.. I don't know, some kind of promise of everything being OK, gentle, and sweet. And while one can get snow in Britain too, there it often comes together with grey skies and with wind blowing in from the coasts. What is special about here is that we are far away from the sea, a little country protected by mountains, so there is hardly a breeze and the sun tends to come up straight after the snowfall. And indeed, the sun is coming through as I write and I am looking forward to leaving all work be and getting out, into the fresh air, to walk on the new white carpet and to breathe in that lovely stillness and beauty. Wow. Forgive the eulogy, but it comes straight from the heart, can't help it :-)
ps (added this afternoon) went to Olsina Lake House: seems Winter has set in here too, but the septic tank hasn't yet arrived so it looks like we'll have to wait till the Spring before it gets put into the ground. Unless there is a thaw! But hey, the snow makes everything so pretty, and it was lovely to have a walk around the white shores of the lake, so who cares.