Pravčická Brána is the largest natural sandstone arch in Europe, in the north of Czechia near the German border, and it spans 26.5 metres on a beam of rock barely three metres thick. Nobody has walked across it since 1982. Feet were wearing the sandstone away, so the arch was closed, and what is left is something you stand under and look through. That turns out to be the better deal. From below, the span stops being an object and becomes a window: dark spruce forest drops away toward the Elbe, and the rounded basalt cone of Růžovský vrch sits squarely in the opening. Sandstone terraces ring the gate, and each one gives you a different version of the same country, pointed towers standing out of the forest, ridges stacking away toward Germany. The composition changes every few steps, so people take an hour over a walk of a few hundred metres.
The climb up from the valley explains the arch. It threads between free-standing sandstone pillars, some with iron railings bolted to their summits, and they tell you what happened here: a plateau cracked into blocks and then whittled down, until this one gap kept its roof. Beside the gate stands the Falcon's Nest, a timbered lodge a prince built in 1881, still a restaurant, its carved verandas hanging out over the drop; people have been climbing up here to eat and look since the first inn opened below the arch in 1826. On calm, cold autumn mornings the valleys fill with fog and the towers stand above it, and once the beech leaves are down the rock comes out from behind the branches and you see the towers whole. The arch has been in one film most people have seen: the landscapes of the first Narnia were shot in these forests. The figures crossing the span were filmed in a studio and dropped into the picture, because by then no one had been allowed on it for twenty years.