I woke around midnight to an eerie stillness in the lakeside park. All the people had gone home and I knew we’d be in for a quiet night. But then a car door slammed. Who the hell is here at this time of night? I stayed still, listening. But whoever it was, they didn’t make a sound after that. I quietly wished myself a happy birthday, rolled over and went back to sleep.
Today we headed into the city of Tábor, about an hour from our camp spot. It was a charming old town and surprisingly quiet.
One thing we’ve noticed in Czechia is that almost every city, big or small, has a well-preserved historic centre. There are a few reasons for this. The country wasn’t heavily bombed during World War II, and during the communist era (1948–1989), there was limited investment in modernising old town centres. On top of that, Czechia has a strong tradition of preserving its cultural heritage, with many towns protected under UNESCO and national heritage laws.
Mike had hunted out the best restaurant in Tabor, so we went there for lunch. It’s called the Green Tree Restaurant, just off the main square. (Note to anyone who cares: never eat on the main square in old towns, that’s usually where you’ll find the worst food. Just have a beer and move on.)
Anyway, we headed into the restaurant, which felt more like a cosy little pub, tucked away. We didn’t want to sit inside, so we found a nice garden bar out the back. Everyone here seems to be a local, and all seem to know each other. No English speakers here as they are probably all in the square.
They had a special lunchtime menu in a strange language (czech probably), so we just pointed to a couple of dishes and hoped for the best. If I didn’t like mine, I’d swap with Mike. It’s a rule we have. Plus it’s my birthday, I get to make the rules.
Anyway, our meals arrived and they didn’t look like anything fancy. Mike’s was chicken in a peppery sauce with chips on the side. Mine was bread dumplings on the side and roast pork smothered in a bright orange sauce. It looked hideous, radioactive even. But OMG, it was frikking delicious!
I couldn’t identify a single ingredient in that sauce, but whatever it was, it worked. The taste of the roast pork came through and the dumplings soaked it up like little sponges of delight. Mike’s was really good too, but I think mine was better.
After our huge lunch, we had planned to look around the old town some more, maybe learn some history from the area, but neither of us could be bothered. So we walked back to Bertie and moved on. The day was spent driving through the back roads and little villages.
Then came the hunt for the overnight sleeping place. As per usual, this is becoming increasingly difficult, I think because we are off the tourist trail. I threw my phone down in frustration, put my feet up on the dash and said. ‘I’m done with navigation. It’s my birthday, you decide where we go!’
So, Mike took over. He took us up a goat track barely wide enough for us, let alone cars coming the other way. The first spot was in a car park surrounded by houses. Charming, but nope.
The next spot was a camping ground beside a lake and extremely busy, and all the sites were all sloping and muddy. We sat there for a moment, pretending to consider it, but we both knew it wasn’t going to happen. So, I quietly resumed my role as navigator, and we never spoke of it again.
We eventually found a campground beside a river. It wasn’t flash, but it wasn’t too busy either. And it was cheap! But they only took cash. So we had to drive back up the road to withdraw some. I don’t know why, but they charge a horrendous fee at the ATMs for withdrawing cash here. So the campground didn’t turn out so cheap after all.
We parked in a spot overlooking the river. It was my birthday, and I felt like going out for dinner. As luck would have it, there was a camp restaurant and it was buzzing with people. It had a rustic charm, wooden benches under a simple shelter and the smell of smoke drifting from the wood fired oven. Pizzas were flying out of the kitchen, and they looked incredible, so we ordered one too. It was absolutely delicious.
As we sat there, I found myself thinking back over past milestone birthdays. Except for my 21st, none of them have been celebrated in New Zealand. My 30th was in Melbourne, 40th in Poole, 50th in London… and now this one, in the Czech Republic, just the two of us, surrounded by strangers.
But this whole trip has been one long celebration. The places we’ve explored, the people we’ve met, it’s all been beyond amazing. So here we are, sitting on a wooden bench, eating wood-fired pizza and ice cream for dessert. No fancy restaurant, no massive party, just the sound of the river nearby… it’s perfect. Even if I had to choose it myself!