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Bohemia’s countryside is special, too. Very traditional, it’s studded with wildflower meadows, dense forests of silver birch and spruce, and ponds full of fat, lazy carp. During my visit many neat villages still had Maypoles in place. You’ll also see hop-fields—the Czechs top the world’s beer-drinking league. A vital ingredient in the brewing process, hops have been cultivated here since the 9th century. King Wenceslas, of Christmas carol fame, recognized its importance—those caught exporting hop cuttings once got sentenced to death. .
You’ll also see smart-looking wooden houses for between $12,000 and $20,000. However, tempting prices don’t always tell the whole story. The Zanicary cottage I just mentioned would make a permanent home, but not all properties are suitable for year-round living. Wooden summer houses (alternatively known as recreation houses) often look well cared for, but they can be basic. While many are handily placed for local ski resorts, I wouldn’t want to live in a summerhouse in January when temperatures plummet below freezing. Indoor plumbing? Sometimes buried deep in the forests,
recreation houses usually have no heating, electricity, or indoor toilet
facilities. They’re probably best for back-to-nature types. Water is obtained
from spring wells, lighting from kerosene lamps, and appliances such as
refrigerators (if you have them) only work on bottled gas.
Why the Czech Republic? High living standards, low living costs, and the prospect of good gains on real estate investments once the country joins the European Union in 2004. Since the 1989 Velvet Revolution, the Czech Republic has rapidly approached Western living standards. However, costs are substantially lower than in the country’s western neighbors: Germany and Austria. According to Czech Invest, average prices in Prague are only 43% of those in Vienna. Invariably spotlessly clean and litter-free, some towns are in the regeneration stage. But although backstreets often show grimy evidence of decades of neglect, the Czechs have made staggering attempts to restore places to their former glory. Although Ceske Budojovice was girdled by factories and tower block neighborhoods, other Bohemian towns I visited largely escaped communism’s more joyless architectural experiments. Language was less problematic than
I anticipated...though hearing people say “Ahoy” in this land-locked country
surprised me. Did Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island have a big fan
following? A realtor solved the mystery: Ahoj has nothing to do with ships
or sighting land—it’s the Czech equivalent of ciao. So I’m glad I never
replied “Ahoy, me hearties,” or said “Aargh, Jim lad” to anybody...
The grandest of Bohemia’s spa towns, Karlovy Vary’s fame dates from the 14th century. Legend tells that a Bohemian king called Charles IV discovered its healing springs while hunting—an injured hound fell into a stream and its leg was instantly cured. Built along the river Tepla, the town maintains an aristocratic air. Rising in tiers towards wooded uplands, baroque and art nouveau mansions are painted delicate sugar-plum shades. Elegant colonnades are topped with statuary; parks blaze with rhododendrons and azaleas. I don’t know what it was like here when Moscow ruled but now shops sparkle with crystal, Bohemian garnets, and glassware gleaming with bejeweled colors. No litter, no graffiti There’s an almost Swiss sense of
cleanliness. No litter, no graffiti, and the only blot in the sylvan setting
is the spectacularly awful Hotel Thermal, built in Czech communist times.
Musical events, fashion shows, golf courses, a casino...it’s as much a
place to have fun as take a health cure.
“Agonizing Baths” Twelve of the region’s one hundred or so mineral springs are used in the drinking cure. Reading a local booklet, I was amazed to learn that 18th-century patients were prescribed 50 to 70 cupfuls a day. Just as intriguing was a section headed “Agonizing Baths.” Treatment used to be drastic. In some cases, patients bathed for 10 or more hours a day. This lengthy immersion in mineral-rich water led to painful cracking of the skin, through which bad “humors” were believed to escape. Although Karlovy Vary cashes in on its popularity with German and Russian visitors, eating out is still ridiculously cheap. One night I dined in the vaults of the Embassy, a cozy riverside restaurant on Nova Louka. Central European food can sometimes be leaden, but my $14 meal was delicious. Blinis with red caviar and sour cream followed by roast pheasant, red cabbage, and bacon dumplings. I should have guessed I was in for a treat after the waiter flourished a menu signed by a famous patron—the Czech president, Vaclav Havel. “A Russian colony” It seems incredible that Karlovy Vary was under the communist regime little more than a decade ago. But even during the Iron Curtain years, it thrived as a top vacation choice for the communist elite—the astronaut Yuri Gagarin came here after his space mission. Russian connections remain: It’s estimated they make up a tenth of the town’s 50,000 population. Plus they now own a number of hotels and businesses—and are avid for more. Czechs aren’t too thrilled about this. I lost count of the times I heard Karlovy Vary described as “a Russian colony.” And the colonizers have now built a vivid blue Russian Orthodox church crowned with golden onion-shaped domes. Karlovy Vary real estate averaged
a 10% rise in value last year. The most desirable area is the spa quarter
where refurbished apartments can fetch over $186 per square foot. Capitol
Reality had a 2,650-square-foot home with six bedrooms and a sauna for
$488,000. At the other end of the scale, a 600-square-foot unmodernized
unit was $55,500. Improvement costs (nobody wants old-style gas heating
systems any more) are estimated at $10,000. The Architecta agency had a
similar sized apartment near the Colonnades for $43,000. But you get twice
as much space in the business district. Here, a 1,500-square-foot modernized
apartment in a turn-of-last-century building was listed at $83,000.
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