
A series of posts following David and Gail as they walk 480 kilometers from Prague to Vienna in 2014.
September 18, 2014
Leaving Tabor, we faced four days of hard walking, a fate in part governed by accommodations that we could rely on. Many small communities simply do not have any hotels or pensions. Or, if they do, may be closed or fully booked. Our first day after Tabor was a modest 24 kilometres. No problem there. The route followed the Greenway cycle route excepting the last few kilometres taking us to our night’s stay. A large two storey apartment in the small village of Myslkovice it was over scaled for our modest needs, but it was all that could be found and booked in advance in the area and was still on course. And it was luxurious with its modern kitchen and wood burning stove for the cool night, all for $93.
No great sites to visit along this part of our trek but a chance to observe the small details that can only come from walking. First are the apples. Everywhere. We started noticing several days earlier that every home had its apple trees, resplendent with big red fruit. And lining most roadsides, rows of apple trees. Not puny crab apples. Big apples, Gala-like apples. Fallen apples carpet the roads. Overhead, the ripening fruit ready to be plucked. And so we do along these public thoroughfares, reaching up as we walk, twisting a nice red one from its stem, biting into its crisp, cool, sweet flesh.
Second is corn. This is corn country. We past by fields and fields of the stuff yet it is rarely seen on the dinner plate. Industrial or agricultural use, I suppose.
Third are the dogs. We can walk through a small town and, like small towns everywhere, people are behind closed doors or are reluctant to engage two strangers walking through their domain. But the dogs are there. Enter a town and, within seconds a dog is at the fence to greet you, all excited and barking madly. Soon to be followed by every other dog in the community. Dogs of all sorts and all sizes. All wanting to be your best friend. All nicely contained in the fenced yards of each house or farmstead. We say hello to them all.
Such is the walker’s world.










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