From Prague to Nemilkov from David's perspective
After weeks of promises, it finally happened. I am sitting at my computer and writing. We haven't added a proper article to our blog for an unbelievable two years... So I took it upon myself to write about a topic we came up with a long time ago. How the younger generation of Kaplans sees the whole adventure around Nemilkov.
It seems like an eternity since we first started talking about buying a castle. It's not like buying a new pair of shoes, although I can imagine that choosing shoes can be quite a challenge. With a castle, it was similar, except that you don't put a castle away in a closet after a year because it went out of style. I don't remember how many ruins my parents visited before they decided on Nemilkov. "It was basically clear as soon as I first stepped into the courtyard," my mom once told me when I asked her why they decided to live here.
I only remember one castle where I went on a tour with my dad. As it turned out Pirkštejn was more of a castle than a chateau. I remember that right from the start there was a fundamental problem. The castle was not for sale. The church, which owned the property at the time, would only rent it to us. Other shortcomings logically arose from the nature of the building. Castles were not exactly designed for comfortable living. Pirkštejn was no exception. The main building was small, cold, and uninviting. The most interesting aspect of the entire castle was the dominant tower, which made the castle unique. "That tower is a game changer. This place has something that others lack," my dad told me at the time, and he was probably seriously considering buying it. But my mom probably saw it differently, and even Pikrštejn was eventually swept off the table. In my memories, we come across a "window" that we need to skip over. We have to move on to the turning point.
David on the hillside below the castle fighting Japanese knotweed
We are at our cottage in Slapy, where we used to go almost every weekend at that time. I'm not sure why, but the whole family is here. Maybe Dad is celebrating his birthday. There is a special gift hidden under the kitchen counter. Most of our relatives know that our parents are looking for a place to move to. When I think back on it, I think they thought he was making fun of them the whole time. But on this day, everything is about to change. The whole living room is watching Mom closely as she pulls out a large gingerbread castle. The plastic castle goes into Dad's hands, and at that moment, it must have slowly dawned on everyone.
"They're serious, you fools."
They meant it. We're leaving everything we've built, everything we've worked for, behind. Have a nice life here.
I have no idea how I felt at that moment. Probably nothing terrible. I already knew that this was their plan and that we had to take it into account. Still, it was a big change for me. A year ago, I returned from an unsuccessful trip to the US, came to terms with the idea that hockey was a thing of the past, started going to college, and then this happened. After a year of "mama hotel," I'll have to do my own laundry again...
David and Marcelka in climbing gear, ready to paint the chimney
Now I ask myself whether I was happy for my parents at the time. Partly, I was definitely happy and admired them. On the other hand, there was fear and a little bit of anger. Everyone will understand that fear. My mother was leaving for some remote place in Šumava and leaving me here alone. Where would I live? What would it be like not to have my own little nest where my "protectors" were waiting for me every evening? There must have been a lot of thoughts running through my head at the time, but in the end, everything came back to admiration.
I didn't expect that admiration for such a decision would be one of my emotions. Yes, I admire my parents for their courage to make such a fundamental decision. To leave everything behind and basically start a new life. To find a project that will probably last them the rest of their lives. A project that they enjoy, that will hopefully support them and fill them with enthusiasm for decades to come. Personally, I still don't fully understand how to gain such determination. How to find the courage within myself to take that crucial step. To trust my feet on the journey into the unknown. To know that everything will be fine at the end of the journey.
A simple sentence my mom once told me. "Everything will be fine at the end of your journey, because if it isn't, then you're not at the end yet."
Unlike my journey, my story is coming to an end. I could find many other perspectives to describe. I could reminisce more about what happened, analyze my feelings more, but digging up the past is pointless. I don't remember a time when my parents were happier than they are today. I don't remember ever enjoying spending time with them as much as I do now. I am happy that we have Nemilkov.
My home is now outside Prague, I always look forward to going there, and I really enjoy returning there.
