Today started in the middle of the night being disturbed by the rain on the tent. It didn’t leak though I was trying to stop myself worrying about it (this must have been my very first night under canvas). Eventually I woke up at 8.30 with puffy eyes. Challenges were getting small change for the clever shower machine (that didn’t work properly in the end), making some coffee with my primus stove (it boils quicker than you can change your knickers crouched the other side of the tent) and packing up a wet tent. Kindly the rain held off while I had breakfast and packed up but started again on the motorway drive up toward Prague, coming down in buckets but this time I wasn’t panicked as I remember I had been last year on the motorway in Holland where I pulled over because I couldn’t see a thing. I had soup and rolls and a pastry and latte in a service station and watched the Czechs. The clientele at a service station in CZ say as little about the Czechs as if I were watching the same groups in England. And then you tend to notice the unusual people – the very fat and hairy, or shabby or men with gold chains on their necks and Porsche t-shirts. I felt relaxed. By the time I got up to the Prague ring road it was pouring again and disobeying the GPS I ended up in maddening circles again surrounded by big trucks. When I first got on the D5 motorway this morning near Marienbad (which I looked around briefly in the rain) I was the only vehicle in sight. Finally I found my way to Kutna Hora with some luck. I think I headed there under the influence of Euan and Charlie, I’m slightly embarrassed to say. In fact the whole easterly direction of this trip was probably treading in their steps.

There was a band playing in the square just to welcome me, along with the rumble of gathering thunder. Three smiling men plugged into a sound system that made them sound more like, well, four men. 
Half the road in CZ seem to be dug up. Including the street surrounding this small hotel on the corner which looked cheap to me. i couldn’t cope with another night under canvass with already damp clothes.

This place is cheap (38 Euro)but camping was cheaper – 5 Euro! And I prefer the informality of camping and chats with the others there, two retired german couples, one of whom was on a 5 week trip in their campervan up to the Baltic states and finland – very sweet. She was wondering around the campsite in a red dressing gown and told me on my greeting that she was covered in soap, that the shower had stopped unexpectedly and she had too go and get more 20 crown coins. In hotels its a bit more frosty.

When I arrived in Kutna Hora a band was playing in the main square very nice and corny European tunes which I sang along to (to the tune known as ‘Never on a Sunday’ – see the rist of two embarrasingly poor quality video clips). I found a hotel but then rode round and round trying to park nearby – completely in vain. So had to haul my luggage half a mile up hill. I didn’t want to leave anything on the bike so far from where I was staying. The hotel is opposite a convent and I watched a naughty nun hitch up her skirt as she negotiated the mud that is the road outside – where the cobbles used to be. The bar downstairs is smokey with the usual regulars you seem to see in any bar and wonder if they have jobs to do. But I will have dinner here I can’t resist it – much nicer than the smartish pizza places in town catering for the smart elderly tourists who seem to be thronging here. The next picture is of the famous and much (too) visited ossuary. Also visited by E&C. (those were the days – before nearly every motorcycle became an ‘adventure’ bike.)

Today’s mileage was only 165 but felt longer. Three and a half hours in the saddle compared to much longer times on the first two days. The Ossuary here is I have to say, a Ewan and Charlie landmark on their journey East which I couldn’t resist. I have to say, now I am out and about, I admire their guts to wade through (literally often) some of the really tough parts of their journey. I’ve only had rain and traffic to battle with. (Mind you, there is only one of me…)