Cats on the Koje-tin roof

Zubr in Kojetin

Zubr in Kojetin

Much to the Klobasa’s chagrin, it was discovered that the FK Blansko game had been moved to a Sunday which we could not attend, and so instead made some last minute plans to head to Kojetin. Really, Kojetin was meant to be a relaxed, routine affair, but instead the trip soon spiralled into a debauched tale of beer, drugs, and roasted cat meat.

True to form, two of the Klobasa met at Brno’s main station. The morning sun was shining, the birds were singing and the trains were grinding with unbearable volume into their allotted platforms. As we approached our carriage Ralph asked, “Have you got the bottle opener?”. In response I pulled from my pocket a shining blue disc, equipped on one side with the necessary tool for which to detach metal caps, and on the other side the logo of the Blansko Klobasa emblasoned proudly across it. “Shame we haven’t got any beer”, he continued, dejectedly. “Oh, but we have” I happily replied, and patted my bag which was carrying two cold bottles of Radegast. Merrily, we quickly boarded the train and sat down with our bottles, giving the Blansko Klobasa bottle opener (available in all good shops) it´s first outing.

We arrived in Kojetin and made our way to the town centre, only to discover that, like most towns, it was under construction. Honestly, as soon as the sun comes out a massive sign covers the Czech Republic which can be seen from space, reading ‘under construction’. Undeterred, we found the first pub – a refurbished old brewery standing proudly on the devastated main square – and had our first, and (hopefully) only green beer of the year, which tasted a little of mouthwash. A guy in military gear made repeated trips to the bar to collect what was surely Bozkov (Czech fake rum), before finally stumbling out in to the morning sunshine. We had a quick look at the menu to find that it served fleshless meals. We passed up the offer of food and continued on with our drink.  It was not a great opening beer, and unfortunately one that would set the standard for much of the day.

The fleshless meals

The fleshless meals

At the Kojetin ground I ordered two beers at the window. Ordering beers at these grounds is usually a standard affair, and I waited patiently as the glasses filled up. Whilst we waited though, the barkeep ventured to begin some conversation which evidently contained a joke, and one which I did not understand. Immediately clocking that I wasn’t Czech, he asked me in his native tongue where I was from. The reply of “England” prompted some merriment from him and he proceeded to tell anyone that would listen, prompting some chap to arrive from nowhere with a bottle of homemade plum brandy, and began filling up glasses for us as Ralph arrived with a resigned shake of the head.

Pivo at Kojetin

Pivo at Kojetin

Half-way drunk already, Ralph inquired as to whether they were providing klobasa for the game. The barman proudly directed us to his roasting oven, where we could see some unidentifiable carcasses hanging in the smoke. “What are they?” “Cats”, he replied, dryly…

Kojetin

Kojetin

I opted for the klobasa when half-time arrived and I have to say it was not one of the best this season, but it did help to soak up that slivovice. I wolfed it down as Ralph took a few shots on goal, which provided more action than the whole second half provided, within the four corners of the charming Kojetin ground. The ref blew the final whistle and we finally left off to take in more of the sights. For some reason, as the sky got darker, so did the atmosphere in this quiet little town. We moved from one dodgy pub to another, deciding against the early train, and as we did there often seemed to be a little more than alcohol going on around us. Well, that is how it seemed after 10 beers anyway. We drank up our final beer whilst propping up a bar somewhere near the station, to the soundtrack of hard rock and somebody grumbling alone to themselves.

No Klobasa no Party

No Klobasa no Party

After a sleep on the train home we headed for one final beer and a crackin burger at The East Village bar and then, somehow, found the right path home.

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One thought on “Cats on the Koje-tin roof

  1. Pingback: Kroměříž – It’s hard to say | The Blansko Klobása

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