Bohemian Spas by Maureen Barry

Bohemia: a name that’s always tantalised and tugged at my imagination: evocative of fairy-tale castles perched on bosky crags, intimate beer houses filled with arguing intellectuals, and pervading it all, a frisson of the louche, an unbridled passion for living life to the full.

The spa ritual has always appealed as an excuse for the minimum laceration of the body balanced by the maximum enjoyment of the flesh - an indulgence of which King Edward VII and his contemporaries were very well aware.

The Edwardians were no slackers when it came to enjoyment and in their heyday the grand Bohemian resorts of Marienbad and Carlsbad read like a roll call of honour for the great and glorious of the day. Goethe had such a good time here that he wrote, "What I indulged in, what I enjoyed, would be too long a confession, I hope all will enjoy it that way, those with experience and the uninitiated ..."

Needless to say his coy innuendoes were referring to the Grand Spas' reputation for providing extra-marital romance, tricky to negotiate in the stricter climes of home.

I fell in love with provincial Marienbad (Marienske Lazne). It’s smaller than the more grandiose Carlsbad (Karlovy Vary) but makes up for it in charm. Sumptuous buildings rise up from the wooded hillsides, the four-storey mansions are festooned with shapely balconies and are as curvaceous as an Edwardian belle. Only two hours by coach, train or taxi from Prague, a spa visit perfectly complements a trip to the glorious capital of the Czech Republic.

Marienbad was built in the grand baroque style at the second half of the 19th century, the fame of its curative waters and sparkling air - it’s at 628 metres elevation - drew such illustrious guests as Chopin, Wagner, Strauss, Lehar, Liszt, Bruckner, Ibsen, Mark Twain, Kafka, Kipling, Nietzsche, Freud as well as being the favourite holiday spot of King Edward VII who took 10 cures there.

Why don’t more people take a ‘cure’ these days I pondered, lowering myself into a carbon dioxide bath as part of a revitalisation cure, first having taken my dinky little teapot to the springs in the Colonnade to drink exceedingly hot mineral water from the spout. After all, our lives are far more stressful than the Edwardians. But I could see the glamour of it all, the gentle, cosseting approach to health, the 50 kilometres of walks laid out through enchanting forests, and after the exertion plenty to do on the social and cultural front. The spas bustle during the summer months and many guests are booked into enormous Edwardian sanatoriums to undergo the complete works, but the prettiest building of the lot, the Nove Lazne (New Baths) is open to all users of the resort, with 136 carbon dioxide baths, including the luxurious cabin that once accommodated our intrepid Edward himself.

Marienbad has a plethora of hot springs, 140 of them, but only 39 are tapped for treatment - and every spring has its target - the minerals will only work on those parts that other waters cannot reach. Needless to say all this dipping and sipping makes you ravenously hungry, and the Bohemians don’t seem too mean about letting you off for a good meal. The main street, Hlavnu trida, is lined with fine old hotels offering varied accommodation, from the imposing Weimar where Edward VII used to stay (now the Kavkaz), to the very inexpensive Europe, which is $20 double with bath. Hotels serve international or Czech food, which is hearty and homely and very addictive. In the Koliba, an upmarket, folk-style music restaurant, I indulged my passion for dumplings with everything. The Czechs go in for home-made soups served by the tureenful, then plenty of meat (they are great meat eaters consuming over half a kilo a head per day) served up in schnitzels, goulashes or smetana and cranberry sauces - plus of course the dumpling. My mother used to mould small round dumplings and toss them into our Irish stew, but Czech dumplings are for serious trencher-men only, cut as it were from the mother dumpling, the thick slices soak up the sauce on your plate irresistibly. Dumplings for dessert are scrumptious, especially if they’re filled with plum sauce and doused with whipped cream - don’t worry - there are loads of delicious dietary dishes for those on a strict regime.

Marienbad and music are synonymous, not only because of its illustrious musical visitors, but the summer season is chock-a-block with musical events. The International Music Festival in May and July is followed by the Chopin Festival in August - I visited the Chopin Museum at the White Swan, sank into a battered leather armchair and listened to a crackly recording of the great composer.

What makes Carlsbad so special is its setting. Steep-sided woods of spruce and silver birch, with belle époque mansions piled on top of each other, are squeezed along the narrow sides of the cascading Tepla river. By the 19th century the renown of its waters and position at the meeting point of two great German-speaking empires, assured it the most impressive visitors book in Europe. A certain Karl Marx from London, as he signed himself in the visitors book, visited the spa several times towards the end of his life, staying at the Hotel Germania.

Ludvik Moser began making glassware at Carlsbad in 1857 and today Bohemian crystal is prized around the world - everyone who’s anyone has had a Moser glass made for them, from Stalin to the Shah. The Moser shop is in Carlsbad’s most famous shopping Street, the Stara Louka, described sniffily by Le Corbusier as "a set of Torten all the same size and same elegance". The shops still exude the snobbery of former days, though for me by far the best bet was tea and cakes on marble tables at the Elefant Café - the Czechs have a notoriously sweet tooth and their confections rival those of Vienna, at a fraction of the price. At the end of the Stara Louka is a baroque vision, the wedding cake structure of the Grand Hotel Pupp, named after its founder, the eighteenth-century confectioner, Johann Pupp. At the turn of the century Pupp’s was the place to be seen and became a meeting place for Europe’s elite. However blasé you may have become Pupp’s cannot fail to impress, and their scrummy cakes are still made to Mr Pupp’s own recipe.

In Carlsbad the walks are a little steeper and physically taxing, making you feel less sinful when presented with those cream cakes. Carlsbad’s waters are said to be strong stuff, the German playwright Schiller drank 18 cups in 1791 and lived to tell the tale, hut normally five to seven cups a day are recommended. The most powerful of Carlsbad’s 12 springs is the Sprudel, which shoots hot water 40 feet in the air.

Determined not to limit myself to dumplings I chose the gilded dining room of the Grand Hotel Pupp for some exquisite carp (carp lakes nurturing the Czech’s favourite Christmas dish are found throughout southern Bohemia). Next day - but several steep walks later - at the Vinarna (wine restaurant) Linky I feasted on glorious roast goose with white cabbage as sweet as apple sauce, along with some excellent white wine from southern Bohemia and cheery company from the easygoing and gregarious Czechs.

You couldn’t mention the Czech republic without reference to beer - it’s a drinkers’ paradise. You’ll pay half the price you would in Poland and the Czech beer halls (pivnice) put Munich to shame. The Czechs serve their beer with a high head of foam and you’re able to consume large quantities without upsetting your stomach because the gas has been removed. Bohemian beer is probably the best in the world, the most famous brands being Budvar (the original Budweiser) and Pilsner Urquell.

When not "curing", eating and drinking, there’s a whole range of cultural activities on your doorstep at Carlsbad, including the world-renowned Film Festival in July, the Dvorak Autumn Festival in September and the Jazz Festival in March; the Divadlo Theatre offers drama, occasionally in English, and you can hum along to the band at the daily concerts on the Colonnade, from May to September. It’s not difficult to see why the Bohemian spas have such an enduring popularity - it is possible to lose weight with minimum deprivation and maximum enjoyment - in fact not only fancy your cake but eat it too.