Once a year I go back to the part of the country where one line of our family comes from. Moravia, Slovácko, Horňácko.

The bands: old "majstri" and gifted youngsters. Slivovitz: you bring some, you exchange some, all of it needs to be home-made of course. The evening show at the crowded amphitheatre starts on time but to hear the very last note you have to wait until next morning.