Nature calls

Monday 23^rd July

I texted Honsa and told him my plan and that I would be back the following day, and left after I had finished putting all the insulators on the fence posts. When I got to the beautiful camp-site nestling between high sandstone rocks and woodland, I was desperate for a crap. It was good to use a proper toilet and also empty out my chemical loo. Now it was time for a beer.

I walked to the nearest village, Kokořín, and found a restaurant; I had pork with cabbage and dumplings, very traditional, it was good but too much. Time to walk off the food filling my stomach. I walked up to the hrad (castle), high on the hill. It was closed for the day and so I just wandered around the high rounded stone walls amongst the forest. On a large slab of eroded soft rock, people had etched their names and also love hearts. A girl in her thirties was also alone; she too was walking around the base of the castle. I didn’t want to seem that I was following her but it was the only way and was walking about twenty metres behind her. I hoped she might pause long enough for me to catch up, perhaps she spoke English. Was she lonely like me? But she didn’t stop and my wish was not to be. It started to rain and I took shelter under some trees; she disappeared into the forest to be seen no more.

Back at the camp-site I met the owner. The reception had been closed when I arrived. She too was middle thirties, slim and attractive and seemed pleased to meet an Englishman, greeting me with a warm handshake, but spoke little Czech. I signed in and went for a walk into the forest of tall slender pines, naked two thirds of the way up. The path was in the same valley as the campsite and bordered by these sandstone rock faces. Once, a mighty river would have flowed through here, carving its way through the stone, creating parallel lines and small recesses in the rock. On top, smaller pines dug their roots into the rock for stability. It was perfectly peaceful. I clambered up hills, steps carved into the stone floor, following a path marked with a red and white symbol on trees along the way. I came to some steep wooden steps which were long overdue for repair and the railing at the top was not worth hanging onto, lest it break. Then some vertical iron ladders, much more secure than the wooden steps, had to be climbed. I followed the path ever upward amongst the silent trees. All that could be heard was the distant rumble of some jet plane disturbing the peace. I came to where the path met a large field of golden wheat and turned to the left; I turned round and went back down.

Back at reception, which doubled as a small bar and place to order food, I met the owner again. She was with the biggest mountain dog I had ever seen. If you saw it in the wood, you might think it was a mountain bear. The lady was less engaging than before. I was just another customer, one who couldn't speak Czech. During my walk, I imagined us chatting together, becoming friendly but it clearly was not to be. Oh well, “Thank you, I have no complaint.” I ate fried cheese with toast and salad.

Despite my positive feeling received from Eckhart Tolle, I sank really down in the evening and couldn’t stop myself from pouring out tears of sorrow. Life felt empty. I wanted to end my life. I think the effect of being amongst so many families and people together made me feel this way. It was some while before I could sleep.