The pretty Europe train ride that goes through medieval cities, ancient castles and beer spas

STARING at the gigantic copper cauldron where the King of England used to bathe, I kick myself for ­forgetting my swimmers.

It’s not often you get the chance to share the same hot tub as the supreme ruler of the British Empire.

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I’m in a spa town deep in a Bohemian forest, unearthing areas of the Czech Republic I’d never heard of.

For three exciting days I would be exploring this beautiful central European country entirely by rail.

My journey begins in Prague. The beautiful capital city on the Vltava River is packed with history.

Climbing the hill up to Prague castle is a must.

The fortress is the largest castle complex in the world. Inside its towering walls are historical buildings and museums including the Old Royal Palace and the city’s gothic temple, St Vitus Cathedral.

That evening I catch a train west.

Unlike those in the UK, trains in Czechia run smoothly and are dirt cheap.

Prague is soon far behind as the IC 558 train trundles along, following the Berounka river’s meandering path through the countryside.

I catch snapshots through the window.

Paddle boarders punt down the river.

Giggling kids tumble down a giant inflatable slide at a village fete.

As the sun sets the train pulls into the serene spa town of Marianske Lazne in the deep Bohemian forest.

Since local monks discovered the mineral-rich springs in the early 19th century, people have been coming here to drink, bathe in, and even inject the healing water and gases that bubble out of the ground.

The town’s heyday was in the Victorian era when spa treatments were popular among high society.

One such spa obsessive was King Edward VII, who visited Marianske Lanze nine times for weight-loss treatments in a purpose-built room at the Nové Lázně spa.

The hotel is still there and for a hefty price, guests can book a session in the large copper bath he used.

My own treatment takes place at the Falkensteiner hotel and spa, a five-star resort with a 2,500sq metre spa complex, 162 rooms, heated pool, excellent restaurant and stylish bar.

After a buffet breakfast, I’m ushered into a dimly lit wood-panelled room where a bath of warm water the colour of milky tea is waiting.

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The slightly sparkling mineral-rich water is pumped directly from the hotel’s own Alexandra Spring, 800 metres away.

The treatment is said to widen blood vessels, lowering blood pressure and improving circulation to relax the mind and body.

The health benefits of spa treatments like this are taken seriously.
Drinking fountains dotted around the town deliver water from the local springs.

Iron-rich and metallic- tasting it is believed to help alleviate inflammation. I hope it does, because it tastes revolting.

Staying at the spa resort hotels is pricey.

But there are plenty of cheaper hotels in the town and treatments at the spa complexes are available for walk-in customers too.

Czechs are the world’s most prolific beer drinkers, consuming 184.1 litres of it each every year.

Nowhere is this obsession more obvious than in my next stop, the city of Pilsen.

It’s just over an hour away by rail and my train ticket costs the equivalent of £6.

Home of the world-famous Pilsner beer, the town is swimming in the stuff and by the end of the day, I will be too — literally.

Among the most popular brews is the famous Pilsner Urquell. The first ever pilsner beer, it has been brewed here since 1842.

A tour of the Pilsner Urquell brewery is fascinating.

The 90-minute walk-through shows the original brewing method and vats from the early 19th century.

Then, the modern, vastly scaled-up operation, where staggering amounts are brewed, bottled then shipped worldwide.

The tour ends in the miles of subterranean tunnels where the beer was once stored.

Here, brewmasters keep the traditional method alive, brewing the Pilsner in oak barrels.

Comparisons are regularly made to the modern method to ensure it tastes authentic.

And you can judge for yourself, with a glass of cold Pilsner poured straight from the barrel at the end.

I head off to soak up some more beer, this time through my pores.

On the outskirts of Pilsen, at the Purkmistr Brewery, an interesting mash-up has spawned the “beer spa” — a big wooden bathtub full of warm, hoppy lager, minus the alcohol (it dries out the skin).

Submerged up to my neck in barley, hops and yeast with a large keg of pilsner within arm’s reach and Oasis’s Wonderwall playing over the complex’s sound system, I feel I have achieved lager-nirvana.

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