Sheep Spa in Rožnov pod Radhoštěm

This will end badly one day, the man with the ram kept repeating, driving a hammer into the anvil, so that sometimes he couldn’t understand. He usually talked about the situation of a world he thought was wrong because people were terribly comfortable and lazy. – Sir, who else can do anything with their hands? he asked me rhetorically and I told him that someone would always be found, but I might not be, even if I could still mow a piece of meadow, but I probably wouldn’t sharpen my scythe again, I’d be afraid to have him cut my wrists… The man waved a hammer, he said it’s more young people who still look at the computer, and if they have to milk a goat, they don’t even know if it’s a goat…

I mean, I’m not sure if the man said it that way anymore, but he still said, “It’s going to come back, people are going to be miserable, and they’re going to have to take care of themselves. Don” don’t be afraid.” he said, that’s not what those anvils were anymore, it’s soft and won’t last more than ten years, the old anvils lasted two generations, for example. that I I then bought it from him. It costs a hundred and will be very useful in the event of an attack by the Russians.

The philosopher blacksmith was part of the Wallachian Village exhibition in Rožnov pod Radhoštěm. It was actually an exhibit, but alive, like a herd of Wallachian or Wallachian sheep, the coarse-grained breed, which unapologetically handles the harsh climate of the Beskydy. He was in the enclosure of the mountain refuge not far from the forge. Interestingly, all the sheep had horns, which led a visitor to the museum to claim that they were males, as the females had no horns. This struck me as odd, I objected that goats also have horns, so it’s not something of a genital organ, moreover rams have curved horns, and not as straight out of the head that these parts. This mystery was not cleared up during the inspection and only confirms the smith’s words about the general decline of humanity.

Even the famous open-air museum of Wallachia confirms this. Every cottage, shed, or just a wooden shed is incomparably more beautiful than ninety-five percent of what people currently build and inhabit. Even the completely primitive cottage of the creator of mish from Študlov, where, as I read on the sign, eight people lived, was more dignified and tasteful than the satellite boxes of the catalog, which penetrated here and in Wallachia there long ago, and even here everything that once had a peculiarity and local character. But that’s what I’m still talking about, it’s my old age, as this pet sex expert pointed out. You wouldn’t last a week, she said. – If I can live in it, that’s another matter, I objected, but it’s beautiful. And maybe in this log cabin, and I indicated the house of a bachelor from Lideček, I would live quietly for a couple of weeks in the summer. I would walk in the soles, I would mow the meadow, I would milk the rams, I would lead a simple village life, I would drink žinčice…

By the way, žinčice, that is, sheep’s whey, a by-product of bryndza production, was processed in Rožnov when the 19th century was there for thermal baths until 1945, but not the mineral springs, which were replaced by the žinčice. You could drink both cold and hot, there were stalls in the park where you went for a drink, much like people go to the springs in Vary or Mariánské Lázně. Rožnov was therefore a sheep or zinc spa. I probably never drank it, I guess it tastes pleasantly disgusting, unfortunately I don’t know if it can be bought in a Rožnov cafe, for example, but they say that in combination with air hard of the Beskids, it was applied to various ailments which customers came here to cure. Sigmund Freud was also among the spa guests, but he was only one year old at the time, accompanied by his mother Amália, they were not far from Příbor-Freiberg. He probably didn’t remember much, but presumably, as a genius, his time here later helped him explore the theory of anal libido, which he experienced himself at the era in connection with the use of žinčice.

But back to the village… In Rožnov (under Radhoště) I was ashamed, for the first time in my life so far, at an age and a bit advanced. I don’t know why I passed it. Like almost all of Wallachia, with which, like the depraved Hanák of the Sudetenland, I felt a somewhat contemptuous relationship in the belief that it was a product of an Ostrava television studio that produced folk broadcasts from a hut where a dulcimer played in strange hats she played the Vlachs. Of course, I see it a little differently, I also met some Vlachs and reconsidered a number of things, as is the case with age.

So I finally arrived in Rožnov (see previous episodes), the weather was gloomy in February, Radhošť shrouded in fog, Bečva was flowing under the bridge, which approached the square, which looked pretty cool to me, but could have l to be even more. Originally, a hundred years ago, there were wooden houses, which later moved a little further, behind the city park, which began to create the unique Rožnov, the open-air museum air. , but that’s just such a wooden neighborhood in Rožnov. It consists of the Wallachian Wallachian Village, which are the residences of the socially weaker part of the local ethnic group, and the Wooden Flat Town, where more powerful strata houses are located, and then some of the associated attractions. The ticket is bought in the Sušák entrance building, which has other exhibits and a shop with Wallachian products, I originally wanted to buy a Wallachian, but for practical reasons I only bought socks with Wallachian motifs. Being there today, I would buy a Wallachia, for the Russians.

Together, it’s been like that for two days, and we always have the impression of not having done everything. You can also eat there, I had smoked meat with sloe cat and potato cones, the cat is a kind of jam sauce and it’s so good. And let’s not forget, you can also go to the Jurkovič watchtower, which has only been around for about ten years, but that’s how Jurkovič would have imagined it: some sketches have been preserved, it’s something between a pagoda and a wild Wallachian Eiffel Tower. When I went up there on the frozen sidewalk it was logically closed, but it wouldn’t be very visible anyway, in good weather it must be worth it, so next time maybe it will be still there.

All in all, it’s there, I would say, really nice, until I was surprised and so was the zookeeper. However, I thought it was a work of socialism, which had such a kitsch relationship with folklore and folk art, as Kundera writes in Joke. But to my surprise, I read that the nostalgics of the Rožnov Museum Association had already moved the house in the mid-1920s, and the main credit for this went to the brothers Bohumír and Alois Jaroňková, who were painters and ethnographers and, as they would say today, designers. They watched with regret as modern times rolled around in craftsmanship, forgiveness and the charm of folk constructions, which crowded into functionalist huts: which was still a luxury compared to what was to follow. So at least they moved the beautiful half-timbered houses, which would now cause astonishment and excitement if they stood in the square, some: the town hall, several bourgeois houses, two pubs, the last they dismantled and assembled the pub Na posledním groši, which still stood on the square in the sixties, they were two brothers long ago in the Wallachian sky.

Or more precisely in Valašské Slavín, it is such a cemetery around the wooden church of St. Anne, which was built here at the beginning of the war according to the model of the burnt-out church in Vetřkovice near Kopřivnice. And around it are tombs or symbolic graves, that is, cenotaphs, of deserving Vlachs. I won’t calculate them here, but I wish them that, and I’m also curious what kind of living Wallachia goes here. I’ll have some advice, but I’ll keep it to myself, he’ll still think I wish he was there. She was actually lying.

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