Cesky Krumlov
What a town! I could feel the stress from Prague lift off me the second I stepped into the hostel. After enduring that sardine-like tourist scene I wanted to spend a couple of days getting back to nature, and boy have I achieved it. Cesky Krumlov (CK to those in the know) is a small little town about three hours south of Prague. It's still very touristy, but much more laid back than the pretty disguisting Prague.

Day one was spent hiking between some small villages about CK. About two hours up some gentle hills, in and out of woodland and cleared grassy fields. I chuckled quitely to myself as I followed hiker's ettiquette and said 'Dobry Den' to everyone I passed, even if they were speaking German to each other beforehand. I got some excellent views back onto CK -- the river quietly cutting through the hills and the houses, and the castle (as usual) domineering all below. I walked through a couple of villages until I found a huge field with a great view, sat down, ate my lunch and cracked the spine of Hemingway's Farewell to Arms. Does it get better?

The next day I spent rafting down the Vltava river with six other people from the hostel. We spent three hours drifting downstream from town, paddling only occasionally when the current was weak or to avoid some rather tame rocks, but mostly just sitting back and watching the trees go by. Once we got away from the singing clowns in the other raft, all we could hear was the river, the wind in the trees and an occasional bird call. I could feel myself channeling The Castle: "aaah, the serenity."

Absinthe
The rafting crowd went out for dinner and, well, why not, a few drinks as part of a larger group that night. First stop was the inventively-named and very Czech Bar Bar, but the highlight of the night was the mad Irishman Donnecha's shout of a round of absinthe for all twelve of us. Only recently legalised in the Czech Republic, and of dubious legality elsewhere, absinthe is a truly evil and extremely alcoholic drink, undoubtedly the result of some mad scientists experiements with vodka and rat poison. Don came back from the bar, cackling like the aforementioned scientist, carrying a tray of trouble with our names on it. The ritual that we followed went like this. You fill a spoon with sugar and gently dunk it in the fluorescent green absinthe, so that the sugar is wet but still on the spoon. With appropriate caution, you light the spoon and try to hide your horror as a blue flame spreads quickly over the sugar. Drops of flame fall onto the table, leading to the obvious but wise warning of "keep it away from your drink!". About thirty seconds after the fire starts, it begins to go out as the sugar bubbles and caramelises underneath it. When the fire is finally out, you mix the sugar into your drink, wait for everyone to catch up, and consume.

It tasted bad but not awful. I sat around for a while, just a little apprehensive, and waited for any unusual sensations. But then someone put a beer in front of me and the next thing I knew I casually noted the first rays of daylight outside. I compared symptoms at lunch the next day, and everyone had a sore throat the next day. Like I said, truly evil stuff. My plans for leave CK that day were immediately cast aside for another day hungover in the Czech Republic. Situation: normal.