We drove back into the Czech Republic after our trip to Bratislava and found a patch of the Czechia countryside that we’d happily come back to. Much of the south-west, in truth, but more on that shortly.
Firstly, another little insight into the way we travel. We like to stop for a morning coffee, around 10am if we’re up and away by then. And we follow the theory that if we are stopping for coffee we should stop at the best place that offers coffee. Anywhere in the world. In Hong Kong that’s The Peninsula. In Singapore it’s Raffles. It is never McDonald's: No Macca’s, no! And so it goes. That way you likely get not only great coffee, but access to some of the best loo facilities in the land. It is, quite simply, good value.
This day we were late and hanging out for our caffeine hit, so we stopped in a little place whose name we barely caught we were so desperate. We didn’t care. We just needed coffee: that was our focus. We now know the place to be Dolni Kounice.
Pete, for some reason, was not happy with the length of the park for the motorhome in front of what I thought was the best place in town, so out he backed and went further down the street, parking in front of another place: demure in its exterior. As it was open and close we went in. Smart casual, I thought, was a first impression. Tho’ smarter than any place in CZ we had yet found, and far less casual as it turned out.
I ordered my usual espresso and toddled off to check out the Damy facilities. Which were stylish in charcoal, black and white minimalist marble with a massive black and white tiled mural of Gorbachev (why Gorbachev?) in the anteroom, as well as stunning black and white images of naked men over the washroom sinks.
Pete, then, had to check out the Panove to see if there were any naked women on the walls, but no such happenstance. So, we drank our divine coffee, marvelled at the loos and salivated over the framed and exquisitely bound menus we hunted down--who has ever seen pork knuckle on a menu ever, uh? Here it was: trendy.
Sadly, it was too early to eat, we’d not long had breakfast, and we weren’t able yet to focus on lunch. We should have. I have already lived to regret not staying right at that very table until my tummy fair rumbled, because the chef was acclaimed, each item on the menu looked amazing (clients drove from Brno and Prague just to eat there) and the prices were excellent.
After coffee a charming young waiter, so proud of his workplace, invited the three of us to tour ‘something special’ downstairs, which required collecting a unique set of keys, and following him deep into the dungeons. Fascinated. There we saw what happens when a 600 year old tile brick structure that has been left to die is renovated to the highest craftsmen standards.
He showed us a small but beautifully fitted-out wine tasting room, with the hotel’s cellar built into the cavities in the walls, minimalist apart from extravagant wrought iron security screens protecting the wines, below an original vaulted ceiling so beautifully re-pointed it looked brand new. Breathing with vents and moisture protection barriers, subtly hidden.
Beyond that, and beyond a black wrought iron gate that looked like a deadly medieval portcullis over an archway, were secret tunnels used throughout history in times of trouble, burrowing far -- even to Brno. Flooded now as a security element, so that the precious wine cellar could not be tampered with.
The black liquid tunnel was straight out of a scene from a dark Venetian night. I could imagine a gondola being poled slickly through those dark oily waters; but was assured access to the cellars was impossible. Televised security monitored every access point. One later has to wonder at the need for this level of all security.
On into the next vaulted cellar, where, behind black iron gates, individually locked and numbered, were a hundred private wine cellars with the patron’s names displayed in brass -- their bottled wines laid down immaculately, stored for their private use.
These were wines brought in by the patrons to be cellared--some, even, from their own vineyards. So, on nights when they stayed as guests, they simply ordered up their own wine selection from their very own cellar out of this tiny vaulted room protected by a tunnel filled with water. With no corkage charged. Understandable that, given the annual premium paid to use a cellar there. All immaculately monitored and stored at a perfect 12° C and 70% humidity.
With so much of Czechia still in rubble and decay it is oddly mind-splitting to accidently come across something like this in such an unprepossessing little town. But the sheer beauty of this place made us wonder how many more beautiful, or even potentially beautiful, vaulted basements there may be tucked away behind the many shabby facades that are presented all over the country.
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| Beautiful country in the south and west of Czech |
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