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Farm stay offers unique cultural experience Posted
July 27, 2004
By TARLIKA NUNEZ FARM BUSIL, Czech Republic— Rich-green-rolling hills are zooming by too fast to take it all in at once. I only know of this beauty from TV documentaries and the fairytale books I’ve read, but to think there is actually such a place, takes my breath away.
Rows and rows of corn are perfectly aligned and old ladies line the streets selling the harvested corn, along with fresh berries, fruits and vegetables. We change scenes as fast as a play on Broadway. We pass by barrels and barrels overflowing with hay shining like a just opened chest of pirate’s gold. Next, dark soot blankets the ground like God had sprinkled Oreo cookies all over the earth.
A blind lady with her walking stick sits beside me on the bus completely unaware of the beauty that surrounds her. It makes me question why I am able to see and she isn’t and I wonder whether or not she has ever seen such splendor. The air circulating through the bus reminds me of the steam that rose from the baths I visited in Budapest just the day before. My back is drenched with sweat and the sun shining over the hills is beating down on my body showing it no mercy; the smell of freshly cut grass lingers with a mixture of fresh blooms as if you were opening a can of country air. It’s been three hours since I left the hustle and bustle of Prague’s tourist-saturated city centre and I’m due to arrive any minute in the remote farmlands that border Germany and the Czech Republic. I’m anxious as ever for my very first farm stay. I left all inhibitions and expectations 150 kilometers back in Prague and I’m ready for anything that comes my way. “Get off in Susice, I will be waiting for you there you in a small green car,” said the voice on the other end of the phone when I made arrangements a week earlier. “You will know it’s me because I am a very attractive woman with dark hair.” I step off the bus unaware of where I am, clutching my purse as if it were some kind of safety net for me. I am in the middle of nowhere on the side of the road, no city, just road. Sure enough a small green car is parked behind my bus and a little old lady no taller that five foot two jumps out to help me with my bags. “You stay with me?” she says. “Get in.” There is no turning back now; I’m here in the middle of farm country. I get in. Groceries fill the backseat; eggs, bread, yogurt, cheeses, and fresh vegetables lie in weaved baskets. “You American?” she asks. “How long you stay?” “Yes, I am American staying for two days and I will be writing a travel article for a Web site back in the States,” I told her. She doesn’t seem phased by the fact that I’m writing an article about staying on her farm. Or maybe she just doesn’t understand me. The car is making a beeping sound for gas, she tells me no problem. After gas and several more errands, a 30-minute drive into the country hills placed us on a narrow road winding between dense-forested evergreens that line the road.
In her thick Czech accent she tells me that she and her husband moved from Prague 10 years ago to care for this farm. She goes on to explain that their farm was once a royal farmstead and that the main house (the one I will be staying in) dates back to the 14 th Century. “Busil,” she said, “is situated on the border of the Sumava National Park at 800 meters above sea level and is one of the two preserved royal farmsteads in Bohemia.” I come to find out the 80 hectares of land that Farm Busil sits on is home to over 70 cows, two horses, one very large sheep dog, three cats and, right now, 20 Dutch campers. We pull into a rich-green meadow and wind our way to a large, tin-roofed farm house that sat overlooking a stunning valley. “Come, I show you your room,” she said, as I unload my bags stunned by the beauty of the place. There was no doubt in my mind the house was six centuries old. It smelled like it, along with cat piss, horse manure and God knows what else. She showed me to my small, quaint room at the top of a steep staircase. “This your bed,” Ludmilla said to me (she finally told me her name). “Dinner at 7 and the toilet is outside.” I sat there on my bed for a minute contemplating how I was going to entertain myself for 48 hours on this smelly farm. She must have read my mind because she returned with a picture of a bike some hiking trail maps and a piece of bread to hold me over until dinner.
So, map in hand, I ventured out to see the countryside. Soon enough, I found myself plummeting down a muddy (horse manure, rain water, dirt) steep hill. My intentions had been to sit by the peaceful brook that trickled behind the old farmhouse. Unfortunately, I was mountaineering back up the steep hill in an attempt to find a shower, to take care of the muck that so pleasantly made its home in my hair during the fall. “Well this will be fun …” I thought to myself as I entered the small dinner quarters, infested with flies and two very, very old, Dutch couples. As I sat there staring at my plate of instant rice, soggy meat and one slice of tomato, I found myself longing for Prague’s tourist-saturated café’s that I had left behind just six hours ago. In my left ear, I could hear the deafening sound of fly wings zipping past me; and in my right ear were the Dutch couples wanting to know if I would be voting for Kerry or Bush, come the elections.
Ah, what a day…I mumble to myself as I slide under the thick-fluffy sleeping bag my host so graciously rented to me with my room. I went to bed that night counting spiders on the ceiling and, as fate would have it, I had to visit the outside bathroom a measly three times. But luckily, I didn’t have to sleep alone because Fifval the mouse sat by my bed running in and out of his corner keeping a watch out for any intruders. I awoke the next day to birds’ chirpin’, roosters crowin’ and horses naying. It was another day on “Green Acres.” But, it’s a new day and I’m going mountain biking. I set out with my map, water and the lunch that Ludmilla so amiably packed for me; two pieces of bread, one tomato and three gracious inches of cucumber.
I biked for a total of 30 minutes that day and walked the remaining five hours, carrying and pushing my bike up the 90-degree vertical hills that lined the countryside. The air was fresh, the sky was blue and the scenery was breathtaking. I sat by a stream and had my lunch, I never saw a single person. It was nice. Seven o’clock and dinner again. I thought it might be better considering the anguishing hunger pains that troubled my stomach. Unfortunately, it was the same story again, except instant potatoes and soggy pork this time … same flies, same couples. I left the next morning relieved I had survived my farm stay, but grateful at the experience I gained while there. I had learned how to eat food that was not only bad, but also infested with flies; I had learned to deal with spiders in my bed and mice watching over me.
Most importantly, I learned how to cope with an unknown experience, which can never be a bad thing, and I got the opportunity to see more than just the castles and medieval towns that the Czech Republic has to offer. I stayed with a family, a family who tried its best to make my stay in the Czech Republic a memorable experience. And that my new friends did!
If You Go… With the collapse of Communism and the system of collective farming that went along with it, many farms were returned to their original owners in a state of disrepair. Slowly, some are being restored to the prosperity they enjoyed before World War II. One such farm, Farm Busil, Busil (not on regular Czech maps) (420 376 593 032), is a recently refinished 14 th Century farm house situated in the middle of the Sumava Forest. This farm is one of the two royal farms in the Czech Republic that are now protected by the state.
Centuries ago, its tenants were cattle farmers who were in charge of guarding the road to Bavaria; they were not members of the local nobility, but were directly responsible to the king. Currently the farm is run by the Mourek family, which breeds cattle and horses on its 75 hectares farm. Activities and services: work on the farm, horse-riding, hiking and cycling. Prices (in Czech crowns): 90 kc for a small tent; 130 kc for a big tent; 145 kc for a caravan; 65 kc for an adult, 40 kc for a child under ten, 40 kc for a car; 40 kc for electric hook up; 270 kc for a room in the farmhouse; 60 kc breakfast; 60 kc lunch, 120 kc dinner. Languages spoken: German, Russian, English Address: Pavel Mourek, Kochánov 2, 341 81 Busil u Harmanic
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