A Trek Through the Czech Canada

So that I don't only write here about exotic far-flung places and European trips, today I'll tell you how my friends and I set off on foot, along roads and off them, through the Czech Canada from Telč all the way to Jindřichův Hradec. Because spring came terribly early this year – or rather, summer arrived straight away – it occurred to me that I could test out some new outdoor gear and undertake a trek. Over the winter I'd received an ultralight sleeping bag as a gift (meant for cycling), and I'd bought an ultralight tent on sale (meant for one person, for cycling). So there were two motivations at once to set off on a trek, a ramble, a hike, or whatever you want to call it.

So one day I sat down with a map of Czech campsites and started planning. I stared at the area around Znojmo and its surroundings for so long that I realised our route wouldn't lead that way. A greater and more suitable concentration of campsites turned out to be in the Czech Canada region. I didn't fancy driving and doing some kind of loop, so setting off by bus to Telč and coming back by train from Jindřichův Hradec seemed like a fitting solution. At least you go from point A to point B and thus have a clear goal ahead of you. What's more, I found campsites here at a reasonable distance of 15–25 km, which, even with the ladies in our group and all our gear on our backs, we ought to be able to walk.

So everything was now nicely down in black and white on paper – meaning written into notes in iCloud and sent to everyone involved via Messenger. Despite their busy work schedules, everyone quickly approved the proposed plan and route. It rather took me aback, and I set about revising everything, because now any mistakes would rest solely on my shoulders. And look – the first problem. Campsites usually open on 1.5. or 1.6. and we want to set off as early as 27.4. So I phoned about 20 numbers and found that we'd have to give up some of the planned stops and found some slightly different ones. It had no fundamentally negative impact on the whole “expedition”; it just meant that on the second day we had to cover about 25 km instead of 21 km.

At 18:15 we were standing at the railway station in Telč. We needed to buy a few forgotten items and some food, take in the town, and at a lovely 7 p.m. (an hour before sunset) we set off on the 9 km stage to the first campsite, which was supposed to be an early-evening stroll but turned into a night-time time trial. Along the red trail, through beautiful avenues of trees, we trudged towards the village of Řásná and the Velkopařezitý campsite. Even though we had to walk about a third of the way with head torches, we arrived just fine and really enjoyed the first section of our journey. Even pitching the tent for the first time went off successfully, and we discovered that two people actually fit into it, even though, judging by its size, it hadn't looked very promising at first. At the campsite, where you can stay mainly in cabins but can also, in essence, pitch a tent wherever you please, there was even a little pub open, so before the coldest night of the whole trip we still managed to warm up a bit. During the night the temperature dropped to about 7 degrees, and I was glad I hadn't taken the new ultralight cycling sleeping bag, but a slightly warmer one.

After the first night, during which we found no major problems with our gear – perhaps only that my sleeping mat could have been a bit roomier – we set off on the longest planned stage. From the Velkopařezitý campsite along the blue trail to Mrákotín and on through Olší, Poldovka and Velká Lhota all the way to Brandlín. In Mrákotín we were joined by the fifth member of our expedition, who for some reason had, on the Friday, preferred a celebration with a female colleague over a freezing night at the campsite, and so we now continued at full strength. There's a Coop in Mrákotín, so you can buy food here (if you arrive while it's open and not, like us, an hour after closing time), and there's also the Na Kovárně restaurant, where we had a good lunch. It's an old pub with a long-standing tradition reaching all the way back to the 19th century. They gave us a hearty welcome and the atmosphere was very pleasant. We enjoyed it right up until I announced that we still had at least 19 km ahead of us and that, unless we wanted another night-time stage, we ought to get going. The picturesque route was breathtaking, and so were the little villages we passed through. Beautifully kept places, many of which have stood here since the Middle Ages, motivated us to keep marching. We struggled a little with water. Before Mrákotín a beautiful spring with a strong flow had lulled us into complacency, but it was the first and last usable spring on the whole journey. And it was much the same with restaurants, and I subsequently often thought back to the tin of beans I'd got rid of at the first campsite.

The blue trail led us not only through beautiful villages but also through lovely forests, and after a while of climbing we reached Hradisko (760 m above sea level), where there's a 7 m tall rocky crag with a beautiful view over the landscape. And once we'd gazed our fill, we headed just a little way down into the magical hamlet of Poldovka. Only a few country cottages stand there, but the setting sun conjured up such an atmosphere that we couldn't tear ourselves away. A short way from Poldovka comes Velká Lhota, where we found a little pub open and could top up the water levels in our bottles and, for some of us, the alcohol levels in our blood. Velká Lhota, with its two churches, is a beautiful place too; it's worth stopping here for a while and having a look around. Then it slowly began to grow dark, and ahead of us lay a dull stretch of road that had to be tackled on the way to Brandlín, to a small cosy cabin where we were to spend the night. After 25 km (some claim it must have been more) we reached the cabin, lit a fire outside, and ate our fill of everything we'd otherwise have had to carry the next day. The cabin's facilities gave us an undisturbed sleep in the warmth, which of course came in handy.

In the morning we still managed to take in the beauty of the Chytrov pond, but because neither the water nor the air temperature had managed to climb above 15 degrees Celsius, no one felt like testing whether they'd forgotten how to swim over the winter. Through the tiny hamlet of Maršov (be sure to look inside the decorated local bus stop) we joined the blue-marked hiking trail and continued to Olšany and Suchdol. I'll repeat myself, but again these are two beautifully kept little villages that literally soothed our souls. Only the hospitality along this part of the route was pretty poor. You won't find a shop here, in Maršov they'd closed the pub, in Olšany there's just a small “refreshment stand” (which did come in handy, though, and turned out to be a great place to top up on fluids), and in Suchdol the owner had closed the only pub because it wasn't financially worth installing the EET electronic sales-registration system :( After an unsuccessful search for somewhere to eat, our mood was lifted by one kind gentleman in Suchdol, who told us many interesting things about this village, revealed to us the secret of a device called a haltýř (a sort of ancient refrigerator), and pointed out several interesting details on the surrounding houses. A very pleasant encounter. He also runs accommodation here and a small ranch with horses, so you can easily drop by for a longer chat and some relaxation. Hungry, we set off along the green trail, and in a nearby forest, into which a truly photogenic path led, we had a picnic and ate almost everything we were still carrying (good thing I'd at least kept one lot of beans).

The village of Valtínov didn't surprise us with any restaurant either, so we walked through fields, forest, past ponds and along an avenue of trees. Nature changed incredibly and the route was truly beautiful and enjoyable. Only very occasionally did we meet a cyclist, and in essence, over the whole time, we didn't meet any other hikers on foot. Here and there someone out for a walk, but nothing more. Peace, beautiful nature, and absolutely perfect weather accompanied us for all five days. In Valtínov they directed us to the U Jakuba lookout tower, standing on Havlova hora. This was the first massively visited tourist spot. We drove off the slight disappointment brought on by the crowds of visitors with kofola and an ice cream – or rather, beer or Red Bull served some people better – and then we feasted our eyes on the view from the top of the tower. But again it was starting to smell a little of a night march, so we picked up the pace, and via a rock anomaly they've named Čertova prdel (the Devil's Backside), we quickly reached the day's destination by a couple of shortcuts: the campsite by the pond and village of Zvůle.

When we reached it, a few people were even swimming there. I thought I'd make it in too, but although the campsite owner had indeed confirmed to me that he was open, he'd somehow forgotten to mention that only sort of a little bit, and that while we could camp at the site for free, only the toilets were open and nothing else. First we had to logistically arrange showers (in the nearby cabins) and some food for dinner and breakfast (at the same establishment on the other side of the pond). Because of this, we were once again pitching the tents in the dark, and there was then no thought at all of swimming in the pond.

I woke up before seven and enjoyed the morning sun on the jetty of the Zvůle pond. I made myself breakfast here, and it was a beautiful, peaceful hour out in nature. Then the other fellow travellers began to wake up, and unfortunately a slight wind picked up too. The result was that the blossoming spruces and pines began to shed such an enormous amount of pollen that our tents, sleeping bags, mats, shoes, mess tins, bread rolls, and who knows what else were soon completely covered in pollen. And not just with a few grains, but with a solid layer. It was a clear signal that it was time to clear the field and get marching again. Since the Zvůle campsite was a bit of a fallback for another, originally intended campsite that was still completely closed, it meant that although yesterday we'd only walked “17 km”, today we had to cover about 23 km. That was already sending an unpleasant shiver through the blister-covered feet of some members of the expedition. So we tried to think up some shortcuts and motivational goals, such as lunch in the nearby town of Kunžak.

So we quickly set off along the red trail, through the Ďáblův chléb (Devil's Bread) rock formation, and battled our way through the pollen blizzard towards Kunžak. On the map it showed a number of restaurants and even a pizzeria. Because noon was slowly approaching, our expectation of a proper meal significantly boosted our resolve and the pace of our march. It was a Monday, so it never even crossed our minds that we wouldn't get a meal here. Uh-oh. The only thing we found was an ice-cream stand on the square. Two restaurants are open only from Friday to Sunday, and one is in operation every day, but only from 6 to 10 p.m. Are they joking? In just that one hour that I wandered around here eating ice cream and we tried to work out what to eat, we met about another 15 people who were also looking for a restaurant. At least the obliging ice-cream lady directed us to an open shop where they were supposedly likely to have some good local warm meatloaf. But this didn't work out either. The meatloaf had run out. So in this self-service shop we bought some supplies (for lunch, dinner, and breakfast, just to be safe) and returned to the square.

Our expedition member Honza lingered a bit too long in the self-service shop, because in the cured-meats section he ran into an obliging owner who made him taste about 300 g of various meat products and in the end so convinced him of the quality of his goods with an educational lecture that Honza bought about a kilogram of smoked pork neck. I only eat fish, so he didn't win me over by repeatedly listing the exceptional qualities of the meat on offer, but it was clear that we now wouldn't die of hunger and could boldly continue on. On meant along the red trail (unfortunately partly along the road), past the Krvavý pond and the local narrow-gauge railway line, through the village of Hospříz to the day's destination, the village of Jindříš.

On the photogenic narrow-gauge railway we even caught a passing train, so we spiced up our journey with a 100 m sprint in full kit to the tracks, to see the train – hooting in the distance – in action. The surroundings of the Krvavý pond are lined by a beautiful path with tall trees, which left us in no doubt that we were nearing the region of the Jindřichův Hradec ponds. The gorgeously green forest grass and the tall alders were literally inviting us to take photos. Hospříz, where we again got our hopes up for an open restaurant (as Zibura would, I'm now writing only about food, drink, and lodging, oh dear…), of course disappointed us and offered only a swig of kofola and beer. Actually, also a Chinese soup for Marek from the local Vietnamese shop. To shorten our journey, we now walked about 1 km along a busy road, which was extremely unpleasant. So it was quickly back into the forest and along the green trail to Jindříš.

The campsite in Jindříš thrilled us all, and I give it five stars out of five. The kind owner, who lives on the farm below the campsite, has it all superbly worked out. On a large plot he built excellent facilities with a well-equipped kitchen and washrooms. The whole campsite is made up of several terraces separated by small trees. So you have plenty of privacy even if there are more tents here. And if you have no desire to freeze in a tent, you can spend the night here in one of about three permanently parked caravans. We could also buy a bite to eat here, something good to drink, and rent a metal fire pit complete with a supply of wood. After a hot shower we lit the stove and a fire and truly enjoyed the last evening of our journey, chatting late into the night.

On Tuesday's holiday morning (1 May), nothing was driving us forward anymore. We had about 9 km left to Jindřichův Hradec along the red trail, which would take us right to the main square. So we lazed around the campsite in the morning, and in order to catch the bus at 4 p.m. (in the end we weren't returning by train but taking the bus to Mrákotín, where the late-arriving Marek had left his car and would give us a lift to Brno), we set out around noon. The Jindra nature trail is very pleasant to walk and level. The path winds through forest and the outskirts of Jindřichův Hradec. As we approach the Vajgar pond, I remember that I'd actually been here last year for a run, and now I know what the rest of the route will look like. And then it was just admiring the beauties of Jindřichův Hradec, visiting the 15th meridian, and the journey back to Brno.

I don't know whether it was down to the great company, the incredible weather, or the gorgeous route. It doesn't matter whether I call this outing a trek, a ramble, or a hike, but this journey will definitely stay in my memory for a long time. I know for sure that the landscape of the Czech Canada took my heart, and I want to see more of it. Even though only a few days have passed since I got back, I again have the urge to open my calendar and a map of campsites with the aim of planning another trip. I have a feeling we should start where we left off and set out from Jindřichův Hradec along a different route through this gorgeous corner of our homeland. I can't wait.

I recommend the following campsites:

,

,

. The last one, above all, shouldn't be missed.

In the little village of Suchdol you can find accommodation, go horse riding, and hear an interesting tale of how life was and is lived here -

.

If you're heading here for several days out of season, bring plenty of food with you. We didn't come across many restaurants, and the only open shops we managed to catch were in Mrákotín, Kunžak, and Hospříz. Also don't underestimate having enough water, because thanks to the drought you won't meet many spring-fed wells along the way either.

If you're going to travel on foot with a tent, sleeping bag, mat, stove, food, and everything else, you probably won't feel much like lugging around any large photographic equipment. I solved it with an Olympus OM-D M10 camera and a 14 mm F2.5 lens. This compact setup still gives me quite a lot of creative possibilities and yet weighs almost nothing. I also had a Xiaomi 4k action camera in my backpack, but I never once took it out. I brought it along for possible time-lapse sequences and for occasions when I might need to shoot in rain or water, but there were almost no clouds, and there was neither rain nor swimming, so it stayed in the backpack the whole time.