Karlstejn Castle is a popular place to stop and the canoe tour ends in the village of the same name. — LADISLAV RENNER/Czech Tourism/dpa
Olympic canoeing champion Jiri Prskavec recalls paddling along the Berounka river in the Czech Republic with his parents. “I come from a family of paddlers.”
He won gold in canoe slalom at the Tokyo 2021 Olympics and appears to be in performance mode even in his leisure time. “The river is too shallow for me. There are no waves,” he says.
He’s speaking as a professional, and he is right of course. The Berounka is not a river for anyone seeking rapids or other thrills. We glide along as it quietly winds through hilly landscapes in western Bohemia.
For us, on a multi-day tour, we enjoy rediscovering the pleasures of slowness. It is also convenient for those of us who are beginners or prefer a relaxed pace.
We start at Zbecno, an hour’s drive west of Prague, in the morning. The canoes are all ready, laid out on the campsite’s lawn, along with paddles, life jackets and waterproof containers.
The rental company has brought everything we need. But that is where the service ends.
No one is there to provide an introduction, a water map, or a warning to watch out for treacherous weirs. The Czech approach is to take it in your stride. Step by step, you’re on your own and must learn to read the Berounka.
The Berounka river is wonderful for folks who want to paddle at ease. — JAN KASL/Czech Tourism/dpa
Rhythm of relaxation
Dragonflies dance over the water, glowing blue and golden in the sunlight. Cuckoo calls echo over the river. A line of ducks passes by.
Our canoes leisurely pick up speed downstream, gliding over carpets of aquatic plants. The bottom is not deep, the current barely noticeable.
The Berounka imposes its own rhythm on its navigators, drawing them into a vortex of relaxation. You press the internal off-button, gain distance from the constant digital bombardment at home and sharpen your focus on nature. In the water, the reflections of trees and rock walls blur.
A gust of wind rustles through the riverside grasses. Deadwood juts out like oversized toothpicks. A weir requires the first exit.
Don’t get me wrong. The Berounka does not wind through Czech wilderness. We pass bridges, houses, power lines and cars. We hear the clatter of a train and the calls of anglers to watch the lines, and the sound of the river’s splashing.
But the land is hilly and lush, free from industrial parks and motorboat traffic and free from crowds. Czechs too like to paddle on weekends and during holidays.
When one group of youths overtakes us, they shout “Ahoi” and play music. All of life is here.
If you fancy a change from canoeing, you can visit a glassworks in Nizbor. — ANDREAS DROUVE/dpa
No terrain for overtourism
The proximity to civilisation has its advantages. Places offer accommodation and the opportunity to replenish calories at the end of the canoeing day.
By now, you realise that paddling on the Berounka also means spending cost-effective holiday days.
Half a litre of beer costs less than €2 (RM9.60) in a local pub, a hearty dinner barely €10 (RM48), a simple campsite per person is €5 (RM24), while a double room in a bed and breakfast is €70 (RM366).
A recurring downside is communication – though you could also appreciate that some Czechs only speak their own language and some menus are only available in Czech.
We reach our destination for the day, Nizbor, and the glassworks opens its doors to visitors. Zdenek Kolar is one of nine glassblowers you can watch in the hall.
We hear the sound of hissing and see steam. The windows are open. He is wearing shorts, slippers, and a sweaty shirt. In the ovens, the temperature reaches up to 1,450°C. A hot job.
On the way to Beroun, we enjoy a fresh breeze. We see fish jumping. Two weirs mean portages.
Suddenly, a swan rises with whipping wing beats, flies straight toward us, and lands just in front of the canoe.
Only now do we notice why as we see, in the distance, three grey-feathered young swans. We give them a wide berth. Just before Beroun, the river widens into a lake, regulated by another dam, a space popular with swimmers and stand-up paddlers.
The shallow Berounka is great for beginners and anyone who wants to switch off. — JIRI JIROUSEK/Czech Tourism/dpa
Wildlife with nutrias
The final destination is Karlstejn. A butterfly briefly settles as a figurehead. Further along, in a bend, grey herons rise.
We pause in front of the massive Alkazar rock. Climbers hang on the bare wall. Cyclists whizz past on the cycle path parallel to the river. The Czech Republic is a nation of sports lovers, and paddling ranks high in national sports alongside football and ice hockey.
Just before Karlstejn, where a much-visited fortress hides in the green hills, two nutrias pass in front of our canoes. Hairy heads and backs protrude from the water.
We stop paddling, letting ourselves drift in the gentle current. But they sense danger and pick up speed. Their pace to the riverside thicket is record- breaking – Olympic champion Prskavec would be impressed. – ANDREAS DROUVE/dpa
