Cesky Krumlov, at the Garden

 

Our tour began in a quiet, green waiting area—a spot visitors usually hurry past—located in the park at the entrance to Český Krumlov, right across from Lazebnický Most (Barber's Bridge).

Our guide, Jan, raised a hand. "Patience," he said. "Every great story has a prologue. This park is the prologue to the castle."

We paused in the first garden, a wide, grassy hollow framed by linden trees. It was there that we could hear the constant, gentle rush of the Vltava River. From this vantage point, the entire panorama of Český Krumlov unfolded before us: the towering castle, the red-tiled roofs, and the majestic spire of St. Vitus Church.

We followed a gravel path that wound along the riverbank. Here, the garden felt fresher. Willow branches dipped their leaves into the swift-flowing water, and the air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh foliage. A solitary swan—strikingly white against the emerald-green water—glided across the river. "The river is the city's lifeblood," said Jan.

As we wandered, the scenery shifted. We peered through trailing vines and caught a glimpse of a castle—featuring a round tower.

A memorable moment unfolded in a small clearing near the old brewery. A low stone wall invited us to sit. An old man was feeding a flock of sparrows from the palm of his hand. He nodded at us. This was a living room for visitors. The sun shone warmly.

Finally, we approached the bridge. The view now felt familiar, something we had already come to know. We saw not just a beautiful city, but a landscape embraced by water and woods—an elegance that seemed deliberate. The garden had transported us from the modern world into a storybook setting.

As we stepped onto the bridge, leaving the threshold's guardian behind, I felt not like a tourist, but like a character stepping onto the stage of a story.

THE END

Source: https://www.wmf.org/projects/%C4%8Desk%C3%BD-krumlov-garden