Krumlov is a great place early in the morning, but you have to get in your walk before 8am. Our little girl turns 10 months old today, so in the morning we went for a checkup at the doctor. Downtown, you could eat off the pavement. But once you leave the center, you find yourself in a different world as if by the wave of a magic wand. The sidewalks on the way to the medical center at Špičák are in a horrible state. You have to be careful not to dislocate your ankle. The Jelenka parking lot is overflowing, with cars parking where people should be walking. And I haven’t even begun to mention the unmaintained stairs at Plešivec, which are truly awful. And all it would take is to hand a pressure washer to someone doing community service.

Poorly maintained sidewalk along the building on 5 May Street no. 233–238 (rear part) at Plešivec.

Parking on Rybářská Street.

Free parking by the swimming pool.

Linecká Street nos. 53 and 266 (right next to the local primary school) are in a terrible state. The crumbling plaster, falling bricks, etc. could threaten pedestrians.

The families from Latrán are visiting. I consider playing musical chairs – next time, we’ll go and visit them. They say that little Josef, wearing a policeman’s cap, called out to them on the main square while he was on a preschool outing to the local police station. A man stops by who used to live here in ’97, as does Mrs. Braunová, a Latrán patriot who complains that they want to bring life downtown but that nothing will change anymore and now here’s some Kateřina Šedá from Brno who knows absolutely nothing about it all, doing some projects that don’t belong here, and how she finds it all a shame. She understands that she’s got a project to present at the Biennale, but it offers nothing for us locals. Hanging duvets out the windows – we never had that here. This used to be a classy place, so if anything they aired them out in the courtyard. I welcome duvets in the windows, because on days like this it’s humid inside. Even our cookies are soggy. Another resident from Široká starts complaining about how the town council (current and past) “walled in” the old town. “Repairmen don’t want to come downtown anymore. When I told the washing machine repairman that I live on Široká Street, he said he’d come at 6 in the morning, because he didn’t feel like arguing with the city workers.” (Edited – the original text was spicier.) We discuss the idea of retractable bollards on the edge of the pedestrian zone. An off-duty police officer says that they should be there – just in the time that he’s there, he sees at least 10 cars that shouldn’t be here. I say that we’re going to see people getting one exemption after another… That won’t happen in Austria – there, the hotel owners are responsible for their guests. You unload your bags, load up, and the bollard won’t go down again for you. Some of the women take a break from cooking to complain that the Old Inn on the square charges 90 crowns for Pilsner. That really put me off, I have to say.

For two days, we leave our friends, random passers-by, and tourists behind and enjoy the peace and quiet and my mother’s house. We do some much-needed work. I mow the lawn, and Pepa is in the garage sorting screws into boxes. If I’m lucky, on Thursday I’ll get to read last Friday’s newspaper. Our friends call to say that life is boring on Širokáwhen we’re gone, so they’re standing in for us. That’s really nice of them. They’re eating ice cream in front of our house, riding a quad bike, kicking a football around…