Monday, 5 October 2026

Resort Čapí hnízdo

After walking our socks off in Prague, Mister Handmade in Israel and I treated ourselves to a couple of days' rest before our explorations in South Bohemia began. I had reserved a room at Resort Čapí hnízdo, a hotel and leisure complex near Olbramovice, a village in the Central Bohemian Region of the Czech Republic, about an hour south-east of Prague. It was beautiful, but it is the history of the place that makes it so interesting, and I thought it was worth sharing here.
Čapí hnízdo sits on land originally occupied by a medieval village called Kačerova Lhota. The name appears in medieval records as Lhota Kačerova or Kaczerowa Lhota, and medieval records mention property there in the late 14th century. The word Lhota is quite common in Czech place names. It refers to a type of settlement founded under medieval conditions in which settlers were given temporary relief from certain obligations, essentially an incentive to clear and cultivate new land. The second part, Kačerova, is associated with the personal name Kačer.
The village was completely destroyed and abandoned during the Thirty Years' War, a brutal 17th-century conflict fought in Central Europe from 1618 to 1648. In the second half of the 17th century, local authorities decreed the establishment of a manorial agricultural estate over the ruins, naming it Nový Dvůr Semtín. The estate eventually expanded to encompass roughly 136 hectares of farmland, pastures, and ponds, and the original agricultural activities were supplemented by a distillery established in 1875. The distillery processed local crops into alcohol, bringing strong economic growth to the immediate region during the late 19th century. However, the locals did not enjoy this prosperity for long. The geopolitical disruptions of the 20th century - including World War II and the subsequent communist nationalization of agricultural property - were highly unfavourable to the upkeep of the estate. By the late 1980s, the complex had fallen into disuse, and by the turn of the millennium it had been abandoned altogether.
The only regular occupants left on the property were the white storks, which nested on the tall brick chimney of the former distillery. They first arrived in 1926 and returned every spring, eventually becoming a familiar part of the farmstead. The chimney remained their nesting site for decades and inspired the name Čapí hnízdo, which means "Stork's Nest". Today, the historic chimney still stands near the Restaurace Lihovar (distillery restaurant) and remains one of the most recognisable features of the property. It is one of the surviving traces of the site's former life as a manorial agricultural estate and distillery, before the area was transformed into today's modern resort.
Development of the resort began in 2006, with the aim of preserving elements of the historic farmstead while incorporating modern architecture. Major reconstruction took place between September 2008 and April 2010. The distinctive circular riding arena, designed to resemble a stork's nest as a tribute to the storks that still nest on the historic chimney, was built as part of the redevelopment. It is constructed from thousands of interwoven oak logs and thick branches. Today, the historic elements of the former farmstead are incorporated into a much larger, modern resort complex.
Mister Handmade in Israel and I made good use of the pool – actually, one of three on the site – and, though we were visiting without small children, we still enjoyed walking around the Eco-Centre (Ekocentrum), which has been open to the public since 2011. The centre provides a permanent, secure habitat for injured, sick, or orphaned wild animals that cannot be released back into nature due to permanent disabilities. It houses a diverse mix of native European mammals and birds, including otters, wild boars and various birds of prey, while in separate designated zones, it also displays selected exotic species. In addition, a 2-kilometre nature trail loops around the resort's pastures, trout brooks, and wetlands to teach visitors about local biodiversity and habitat protection. Our room was lovely, with a little balcony and a terrific view, and the whole place was a wonderful spot to relax for a couple of days before continuing our journey through South Bohemia.
Disclaimer: Resort Čapí hnízdo has been the subject of a long-running legal case concerning allegations of the improper use of an EU subsidy. I visited the resort simply as a foreign tourist and have no involvement in, or personal knowledge of, the legal matters surrounding it. My post is solely about my experience as a visitor and is not intended to comment on the ongoing legal proceedings.


Thursday, 1 October 2026

Terezín Ghetto and the Gestapo Prison

Since we were visiting Prague, we knew that a visit to Terezín, as it is known in the Czech Republic, or Theresienstadt, as I have always known it, had to be part of our trip. Terezín is about an hour's drive north of Prague, but its history reaches far beyond the town itself. During the Second World War, the Nazis turned the former fortress town built by the Habsburg monarchy, into a ghetto and transit camp for tens of thousands of Jews. They also used Terezín as a tool of Nazi propaganda and deception. In 1944, they carefully staged a visit by representatives of the International Red Cross, beautifying parts of the ghetto and creating a false impression that prisoners were living in good conditions. The nearby Small Fortress was used as a Gestapo prison. From Terezín, many prisoners were later deported to extermination and concentration camps further east.
We booked a semi-private tour with Bat-El Tours, whose founder is Pavel Batel, an author, documentarist, and researcher specialising in Terezín. Our guide was Helge. He picked us up at our hotel and drove us to Terezín, starting the tour right away by giving us the essential history and background information needed to understand what happened at Terezín during the Holocaust.
Upon arrival, we were somewhat taken aback to discover that the town of Terezín is still inhabited today. We had expected to find a museum and not a place where people live and work. Despite this, some of the town's historic buildings have been turned into museums, and Helge explained that he and others are working to preserve more of them.
We began at the Ghetto Museum, the former Boys' Barracks, where our guide showed us drawings made by children imprisoned in the ghetto. While some pieces show ordinary childhood subjects, memories of home and imagined worlds, others showed much darker images of ghetto life.
A short drive from there, we entered a tunnel leading to what is now an area of open grassland, and Helge explained how prisoners were forced to work there during the war, growing crops including potatoes. The produce was largely intended for the SS rather than for the prisoners themselves, making the agricultural work another cruel reminder of the conditions in which they were forced to live. What made the tunnel particularly poignant were the messages and drawings engraved into its sandstone walls by Jewish prisoners: names, dates, symbols and other personal traces left behind by people who had passed through Terezín.
One of the most unexpected places we visited was the Hidden Synagogue, a tiny prayer room secretly created by Jewish prisoners in a former storage room. It was decorated by the prisoners themselves, who used materials they were able to obtain through their work to paint symbols and Hebrew religious texts on the walls. The room was only rediscovered in the early 1990s, and the remarkable decoration has survived almost intact.
The prayer room was created by Artur Berlinger, a Jewish artist and religious teacher who arrived in Terezín with his wife, Bertha, in 1942. He conducted services there and created a space where prisoners could continue to practise their faith despite the terrible conditions around them. Artur and Bertha were both deported to Auschwitz in 1944 and murdered. Standing in this tiny room, surrounded by the words and symbols painted by people imprisoned in the ghetto, was incredibly moving.
We visited the Magdeburg Barracks, which served as the headquarters of the Jewish self-administration of the ghetto. There was a reconstruction of a typical prisoner dormitory, giving us some idea of the dreadful conditions in which people lived. But perhaps what struck me most was the evidence of the extraordinary cultural life that continued within the ghetto. The exhibitions displayed artwork, musical compositions and theatrical programmes, alongside a reconstruction of a theatre setting.
Amidst the suffering, prisoners created art, music and theatre, and organised educational programmes in an effort to maintain some sense of normality, identity and human dignity. The barracks, once occupied by Jewish artists, musicians, writers and educators, now preserve some of the work they created. These remnants of creativity are a testament to the determination of people who refused to let the circumstances around them completely extinguish their humanity. It was a place of both despair and defiance.
Passing the arrival and transport courtyards and the remains of the railway lines that brought Jewish prisoners to Terezín, and later carried many of them on to death camps, including Auschwitz, we came to the Jewish Cemetery and Crematorium. The cemetery contains both marked graves and mass burial sites, while the original crematorium ovens remain as a horrifying reminder of the sheer scale and brutality of the Nazi persecution. Standing there, it was almost impossible to comprehend what had happened in this place, the suffering, the deaths and the sheer number of people who passed through Terezín.
The tour then took us to the Small Fortress, a very different part of the site. While the main fortress town had become the Jewish Ghetto, the Small Fortress became a Gestapo prison during the Nazi occupation, a place of unimaginable cruelty where prisoners endured appalling conditions. Here we saw prisoner cells, isolation and punishment areas, showers and disinfection facilities, the execution courtyard and shooting range. It was difficult to comprehend the suffering that took place within these walls.
This is where we ended our tour. Leaving Terezín, I was filled with a deep sense of sadness, but also with a profound appreciation for the resilience of the people who were imprisoned there. Behind the buildings, exhibitions and physical remains lay overcrowding, hunger, disease and the constant fear of deportation to the death camps. Our visit was far more than an exploration of history. It was an experience that brought the human reality of Terezín painfully close, and reminded us of the importance of remembering and bearing witness to what happened there. It was, without doubt, one of the most powerful and memorable experiences of our entire trip to Prague.