This time we're soaking up the off-beat delights of the Czech Republic.

Thanks for joining us!

To get a fair look at any country, you need to venture beyond its dominant city.

Here in the Czech Republic there's a world of cultural riches outside of Prague -

and in this episode, that's our focus.

We'll discover stately squares with no tourists; eat stinky cheese and wash it down with Europe's

best beer...

Honza: ...the stinkiest cheese in the whole country.

See the trophies of a bored yet trigger happy prince and learn of an evil Nazi hoax. Then

we'll follow the epic story of the Czech nation on canvas, paddle through the bohemian countryside,

and delight in a fairytale town that comes complete with jaunty Gypsy music.

Buried in the heart of central Europe is the Czech Republic. Skipping Prague, the capital,

we start in Olomouc in Moravia, before visiting Moravsky Krumlov, Trebon, Terezin, Konopiste,

and Cesky Krumlov.

As Europe unites into one vast free trade zone, it's employing its own kind of internal

Marshal Plan, investing hundreds of billions of dollars into its own infrastructure. Here

in the Czech Republic they have a new express train zipping you in less than two hours from

Prague to here...Olomouc.

Its circa-1950s train station is a fascinating blend of old and new: Bright and happy workers

put down their hammers and sickles long enough to greet you - a reminder of the country's

recent communist past. Just a short tram-ride from the station gets us to the old town center.

Olomouc, the historic capital of this region, is the Czech Republic's fifth-largest city

with 100,000 people and home to a leading university. With its wealth of cafés, clubs,

and student life, Olomouc gives you vibrant local culture - without the tourist crowds

and high prices of Prague.

I'm joined by my Czech friend and co-author of my Czech Republic guidebook, Honza Vihan.

Rick: So, Moravia, is that a political unit or an ethnic region?

Honza: Moravia is region in the Eastern part of the Czech Republic.

Rick: And how would you describe the Moravian people?

Honza: Well to generalize the Moravians are more emotional and friendlier then the people

in the western part of the country.

The fortune and misfortune of Olomouc comes from its strategic location at the intersection

of Central Europe's main east-west and north-south trade routes. The city's historic core is

simply workaday Moravia. Trams clatter through the streets - as they have for a century.

The town's economy is lively even without much tourism.

Standing in front of the Town Hall surrounded by the vast square and its fine noble and

bourgeois residences, you can imagine the importance of Olomouc in centuries past. The

people here are proud - as if their fine city was still ruling Moravia...which is hasn't

done since about 1640.

Locals brag that their city is the home to the country's second most important bishop

and its second most important university. Perennially number two, Olomouc actually built

its bell tower to be six feet taller than Prague's. But, when it comes to plague monuments,

Olomouc is unrivaled..... this baby is the tallest and most grandiose anywhere.

Throughout Central Europe squares like this are decorated with similar structures, erected

by locals to give thanks for surviving the plague. The tip of the column features the

Holy Trinity: God the Father making a blessing, Christ sitting on a globe, and the dove representing

the Holy Spirit. Tumbling below the Trinity, the archangel Michael - with his ever-ready

sword and shield - reminds us that the Church is in a constant struggle with evil.

It all sits upon a tiny chapel where, on the day the column was inaugurated in 1754, the

mighty Hapsburg Empress Maria Theresa - who traveled all the way from Vienna - knelt to

pray - devout, yet envious. Proud little Olomouc, way out here in Moravia, had a plague column

grander than Vienna's.

A series of allegorical fountains decorate the old town. Most were inspired by classical

mythology. This one, featuring Julius Caesar, is dedicated to the legendary founder of the

town.

The modern turtle fountain is a popular meeting place for young mothers, and a fine place

to watch toddlers enjoy the art.

This astronomical clock was destroyed by the Nazis in World War II. Today's version was

rebuilt in 1953 by the communists - with their kitschy flair for propaganda. In good Social

Realist style, you have earnest chemists and heroic mothers rather than holy saints and

Virgin Marys. In this region so rich in agriculture, these symbols of the 12 months each feature

a seasonal farm activity. High noon is marked by a proletarian parade, when a mechanical

conga line of milkmaids, clerks, blacksmiths, teachers, and first defenders are celebrated

as the champions of everyday society.

As with any full service astronomical clock, there's a wheel with 365 saints, so you'll

always know whose special day it is. And this clock comes with a Moscow-inspired bonus - red

bands splice in the special days of communist heroes: Lenin died on the 21st day of the

year; Stalin's saint was Tomas - day 355.

We can't leave Olomouc without experiencing one of the city's greatest attractions; its

notoriously stinky cheese.

Rick: So we know about the great Czech beer. But what's with this famous cheese from Moravia?

Honza: The Olomouc zarushki? Well it's the stinkiest cheese in the whole country.

Rick: [Laugh] Really: Honza: If there is one thing you associate

with Olomouc, it's this cheese. My mom comes from this region, when I was a kid when she

would start eating this at home, me and my dad we would just clear out of the kitchen.

So the thing that makes this cheese is the way it ages. It ages under the aged meat so

the meat itself has to be aged to age this cheese. Then you have to age in order to like

this cheese. Rick: And what are you putting on it?

Honza: That's young onion, young, strong onion. Rick: Why is that important?

Honza: Is good for you as a man. Rick: [Laugh]

Honza: It stinks but is good. Rick: And what is this?

Honza: This, these are really strong mints so you can go and kiss your wife when you

go home.

Thirty miles south of Prague is Konopiště, the lavish residence of the Archduke Franz

Ferdinand. Its interior dates from about 1900, when the heir of the Hapsburg throne, Franz

Ferdinand, moved in. Against the wishes of his uncle, Emperor Franz Josef, Franz Ferdinand

married a Czech countess, Sofie. To escape family problems back in Vienna, he purchased

Konopiště and moved here to raise their 3 children and wait his turn to be emperor.

Money was no object as Franz Ferdinand turned his castle into a palace with all the latest

comforts: As one of the first castles in Europe to have an elevator...a shower with hot and

cold running water...and even a new-fangled flush toilet, Konopiště shows "modern" living

around the year 1900.

The archduke had lots of time on his hands as his uncle, Emperor Franz Josef held onto

power from 1848 all the way until 1916. While he waited, Franz Ferdinand amassed one of

the best collections of arms and armor in the entire world. The exhibit, mostly Italian

from the 16th to the 18th centuries, raises weaponry to an art form.

And for Franz Ferdinand, guns were more than showpieces. Obsessed with hunting, he traveled

around the world, shooting at anything with four legs: deer, bear, tigers, elephants,

and this Polish buffalo. He actually recorded over 200,000 kills in his log. Keep in mind

Royal hunting was a kind of massacre game with his aids sweeping doomed animals into

the archduke's eager sights. Over 4,000 trophies decorate the walls and halls of his castle.

Franz Ferdinand did more than his share of shooting. But in 1914, he himself was shot,

along with his beloved wife Sofie, in Sarajevo. His assassination sparked WWI which ultimately

ended the rule of the Hapsburg family - whose crown he had waited so long to inherit.

Another site near Prague is Terezin, a town built in the 1780s with state-of-the-art walls

designed to keep out German enemies. In 1941, the Nazis evicted its 7,000 inhabitants and

packed in 60,000 Jews, creating the Terezín Concentration Camp. The town's historic walls,

originally meant to keep Germans out, were now used by Germans to keep the Jews in. But

this was a concentration camp with a devious twist.

This was the Nazis' model "Jewish town," - in reality a concentration camp dolled up for

propaganda purposes. Here in what they called a "self-governing Jewish resettlement area,"

Jewish culture seemed to thrive, as "citizens" put on plays and concerts, published a magazine,

and raised their families in ways that impressed Red Cross inspectors.

The Germans wanted the Jews to accept this new reality - harsh, but at least life would

go on. Children made dolls of their friends "in transport" - as if relocating was just

the start of the next stage of their lives. They drew carefree memories of life before

incarceration and they made scrapbooks about life in the camp. The museum comes with a

recreated barracks furnished with actual belongings of Terezin inmates.

Sinks were installed - looking good for human rights abuse inspectors from the outside world...but

never actually plumbed with water. Group showers became a routine part of life here. The fatal

last shower many Terezin residents would later take at Auschwitz looked no different...except

there were no windows.

Tolerable as this sham Jewish town seemed, virtually all of Terezín's Jews ultimately

ended up dying either here or at the extermination camps farther east. As you explore the camp,

ponder the message of all such memorials: Forgive, but never forget.

Today, the Czech Republic - independent and enjoying an unprecedented prosperity - is

dotted with plain and sleepy towns. These non-descript, work-a-day places go about life

oblivious to modern tourism. But one particularly ugly town hides an artistic pearl.

Moravský Krumlov has only one real restaurant and shops shut down by 5:00. The concrete

ugliness of the circa-1950s main square (rebuilt after the town was bombed out by Russians

in WWII) feels a world-apart from the rest of the country.

But...there's one good reason to visit Moravský Krumlov: Discovering the Slavic Epic, by the

Czech Republic's greatest painter, Alfons Mucha. His masterpiece is tucked away in the

town's decaying castle.

Around 1900, Mucha made a hugely successful commercial career for himself as the Art Nouveau

poster artist and illustrator of ads and magazine covers.

His specialty: pretty women with flowers, portraits of rich wives, and slinky models

celebrating the good life. But he grew tired of commercial art.

Mucha dedicated the second half of his career - 18 years - to painting the Slavic Epic [correction: Slav Epic],

20 huge canvases designed to tell the story of his nation on a grand scale.

The art fills this humble space only until a suitable home can be found in Prague.

In this self-portrait young Mucha is the seer - a conduit, determined to share wisdom of

a sage Slav with his fellow Czechs.

Mucha paints a brotherhood of Slavic people - Serbs, Russians, Poles, and Czechs - who

share a common heritage, deep roots, a hard fought past, and ultimate triumph. Through

this series of epic events, Czechs can trace their ethnic roots:

Mucha, with his romantic nationalist vision, shows how through the ages Goths and Germanic

people have brought terror and destruction to the Slavs....the Slavs whose pagan roots

are woven deep into their national character. The establishment of the Orthodox Christian

faith provided a common thread for Slavic peoples. To maintain their identity, they

stood up to the Roman Church with courageous religious leaders boldly confronting Vatican

officials. The printing of the Bible in the Czech language was a cultural milestone.

Then they endured three centuries of darkness during the time Czechs were ruled by the Catholic

Austrians. Mucha's final canvas shows the ultimate triumph of the Czech people as, in

the 20th century, they join the family of nations with their Czech ethnicity intact.

The Slavic Epic.

A short drive takes us to another popular stop: Třeboň. Its venerable square is lined

with playful arcades artfully blending both Renaissance and Baroque building styles. The

town was built by 17th-century businessmen, whose wealth came from fish farming. From