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Sitting in contemplative silence atop an enormous sandstone rock, I hear the first whoops in the distance. My initial reaction is to wonder who dares destroy this peace and tranquillity? Is it leftover warlords from Jez Butterworth’s new blockbuster TV drama Brittania? Scenes from the series (which aired for the first time on Sky Atlantic last week) were filmed in this monstrous natural playground. Then I realise that the noise is coming my way, leaping up the great boulders, climbing flights of stone steps, squeezing through shoulder-width crevices and spiralling around stone towers.
The acoustics are so strange in this forested amphitheatre of stone monoliths that I can soon hear muttering: “This is incredible! I love it!” Then I see him: no woad-washed warrior, but a young man in a bright orange down jacket with a smile so wide I’m astonished he’s got it through the tighter spaces.
Eventually he climbs my stone tower, panting a bit. “I’m so annoyed,” he says. “I’ve spent a week touring museums and town squares and now they bring me here and say I have two hours! This is a wonder of the world! I want a week here.”
His name is Nils. He’s a Dutch student on a whirlwind coach tour of the Czech Republic and I know how he feels. Despite its name, Bohemian Paradise is not a well-known destination – though Brittania may change that. Even so, the camera can barely cope with its labyrinthine beauty. I’m in an area called Prachovské Skály (Prachov Rocks), the most visible and best-known section. I have been walking through similar scenery for four days.
At the start, a footpath from the small town of Turnov, a central European settlement that is both ancient and modern, smart and dilapidated, led me into countryside, climbing a wooded ridge with a little rock tower, wind-worn and curvaceous, no taller than a London bus. That, however, was a mere canape before the main feast.
Now the forest is deep and silent, peopled only by red squirrels and deer. To my left I notice the ground seems to slide away between beech trees in leaf-littered curves. Investigating, I find a deep canyon guarded by sandstone bluffs where I lose myself, briefly, in a natural maze. The magic has started. On a side diversion I discover an area where a local artist has carved slightly spooky figures into the rock: mythical giants on mossy steeds looming from under the forest’s feet.
Approaching the hamlet of Hrubá Skála, I notice a steep side path leading into a narrow cleft between cliffs. An hour later, totally disoriented by steep staircases winding through clefts barely a rucksack wide, I emerge from a slot canyon with a laugh of delight. I’m right opposite my hotel. I am so excited that instead of checking in, I head back and spend another hour exploring.
Day two is a circuit that begins with a long, slow descent into deep forest with mysterious cliffs among the trees. It feels like I’m immersed in a fairytale. Rain falls. I reach Kost Castle, a dark forbidding place where I’m disappointed to be told the torture chamber is closed today. But the castle proves sufficiently fascinating without the addition of thumb screws.
Towards sunset, on the way back to Hrubá Skála, I start following some animal tracks, forgetting to unwind a string behind me. I reach the rounded edge of a deep canyon, retrace my steps, then spot a movement. I freeze. All massive horns and woolly chestnut coats, a whole party of mouflon (feral sheep) stroll into view, before they spot me and charge away.
I have lost both my bearings and any semblance of a path. I get the map and compass out and decide to head east. I drop down a long soft slope of dry leaves into a gully, then pop out opposite the hotel. How was that possible? The receptionist swears that mouflon are extremely rare and never seen nearby. Who am I to disagree?
After another day of quiet forest walking, I head for Prachovské Skály, the pièce de résistance. The gorges were made more visitor-friendly a century ago with an intricate network of steps and passages, plus a few iron balustrades to stop ladies in long skirts from tripping and falling. I can see why the TV location scouts loved it here. It’s a place to spend days on hide-and-seek, to bring a sketchbook.
Too soon, I reach the baroque masterpiece that is the town of Jičín. It has chequerboard paving and long colonnades around a magnificent market square – but also cars and people.
Like Nils the Dutchman, I’m aghast. Four days was all too short a time to spend in paradise.
Way to go
Packages
The trip was provided by On Foot Holidays, whose four-night walking tour of Bohemian Paradise costs from £435pp, including B&B, route notes and luggage transfers, but not flights. Extensions (to Prague for example) can be added.
Flights
Wizz Air flies from Luton to Prague six days a week (and daily from 26 March) from £41 return.
Best time to go
April to October. Early spring can be cold, but by late April the spring flowers start. May and June are arguably the best months, but high summer is still good as much of the walk is shaded by trees. Most castles and other attractions are closed on Monday so time your visit carefully.
Exchange rate
£1= 28.9 koruna (CZK).
A simple lunch in a village restaurant will cost about 100-150 CZK.
Beer is very good and very cheap – a half-litre glass is about 25 CZK.
Further information
czechtourism.com
guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2010
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The Czech Republic’s Bohemian Paradise: as magical as it soundshttps://goo.gl/DFjziZ
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