Most Americans planning retirement in Europe imagine the usual suspects: Paris, Rome, London if they’ve saved diligently. Hardly anyone mentions Brno, the Czech Republic’s (aka Czechia) second-largest city. And yet, for many retirees who find it, Brno becomes the perfect size and pace: cultured but not crowded, walkable but not sleepy, historic yet thoroughly livable.

Meet Carol and Mike, a retired couple from Colorado who have quietly built a life here that feels effortless.

Morning: Coffee, Castles, and Familiar Faces

Their days begin gently.

“We don’t set alarms anymore,” Mike says. “The tram does it for us. Ding ding, time to wake up.”

They live in Veveří, in a bright second-floor flat with tall ceilings and views of linden trees. After making tea, they head toward SKØG or Industra, depending on whether they want Scandinavian calm or quirky local art.

By now they’re regulars. Their barista, a cheerful 20-something named Eliška, greets them every morning.

“Dobré ráno! The usual?”

“Please,” Carol answers, then turns to Mike with a grin. “We’ve become so boring.”

He shakes his head. “Consistent,” he corrects. “We’re consistent.”

From their table, they can see Špilberk Castle on a hill. It’s a medieval fortress that looks almost unreal in the soft morning light. “Some days,” Carol says, “I forget we’re living in Europe. And then I look up and there’s a castle. It still gets me.”

“Right?” interjects Mike, “No castles in Boulder!”

Late Morning: Markets, Wandering, and Local Friends

Their favorite ritual is the walk through Zelný trh, Brno’s open-air vegetable market. The vendors know their faces now.
One morning, an elderly farmer with a weathered cap handed Mike an apple. “For you,” he said in Czech. “You always smile.”

It’s these small interactions; warm, easy, unforced; that have made Carol and Mike feel at home.

After shopping, they often wander to Lužánky Park, the oldest public park in the country. A few months ago, they befriended another retired couple, Václav and Hana, who walk the park daily with their dachshund, Fík.

“He runs the place,” Hana jokes.

“And he runs us,” Mike replies, tossing the dog a treat.

Lunch: Dumplings, Wine, and the Joy of Local Discoveries

Lunch is their “main event” meal.

“We didn’t plan it this way,” Carol says, “but the Czech rhythm just took us in.”

“And honestly,” Mike adds, “I’ll never complain about having goulash for lunch.”

Their favorite spot is a small wine bar near the university. The owner, Tomas, insists they try a new bottle every week.
One afternoon, after pouring them glasses of Pálava, he leaned in conspiratorially.

“This,” he whispered, “is our pride. Moravian sunshine in a bottle.”

They clinked glasses.

“To sunshine,” Carol said.

“To discovering things we didn’t even know existed,” Mike added.

Afternoon: Trams, Little Adventures, and Not-So-Little Surprises

Their afternoons are never rushed. Some days they visit museums; others they hop on the tram just to ride it to the end of the line.

“There’s something very…European,” Mike says, “about hopping on public transit with no plan.”

Carol interrupts: “There’s something very us about hopping on public transit with no plan.”

They love Brno’s surprises: a church tucked behind a modern building, a tiny bakery selling pastries for under $2, a courtyard garden hidden between two apartment blocks.

They’ve taken to calling these discoveries “Brno moments.”

Every evening they log them in a little notebook:
• The day a street musician played Fleetwood Mac and a dozen strangers sang along.
• The time they accidentally joined a student protest march (“We thought it was a parade!” Carol insists).
• The afternoon a sudden rainstorm soaked them and an old woman pulled them under her umbrella without a word.

Evening: Quiet Dinners, Culture Nights, and Becoming “Regulars”

Evenings are soft and simple. They often cook at home using vegetables from the morning market and/or cheese from a tiny shop run by a man who speaks no English but has the warmest smile in the city.

But two nights a week, they go out: either to the Janáček Theatre or to a local pub for soup and beer.

“We’re opera people now,” Mike says proudly.

“No, we’re discount opera people,” Carol corrects. “Which is even better.”

Their favorite memory is the night they saw The Cunning Little Vixen and ended up chatting with an elderly Czech couple during intermission. The couple spoke little English; Carol spoke little Czech. But the universal language of pointing, nodding, and appreciative “ahh!” sounds carried them through a delightful half hour.

Cost of Living: “We Live Well…Without Thinking About It”

When American friends ask about affordability, Mike always gives the same answer:
“We live better here on far less money.”

Here’s what their real monthly expenses look like:
• Rent for a one-bedroom in Veveří: ~$850–$950 (renovated, central location)
• Utilities + high-speed internet: ~$120
• Groceries for two: ~$350–$450
• Monthly tram pass: $20 per person
• Dinner out at a mid-range restaurant: $10–$16 per person
• Opera or symphony tickets: often $8–$20
• Healthcare: a fraction of U.S. prices; doctor visits are inexpensive, and private insurance runs ~$90–$150/month each

“Back home,” Carol says, “we were always thinking about cost. Here, we just...live. I rarely think about how much something costs. That’s real freedom.”

They often mention that Brno feels like the sweet spot: not as expensive or crowded as Prague, not as sleepy as small Czech towns. Just right.

Reflections: “We Built a Life Without Even Realizing It”

When they moved, they expected a nice adventure. What they didn’t expect was how naturally life would settle into place.

One evening, sitting on their balcony, listening to trams clicking along the tracks below, Carol said:
“I think this is the first time in years I feel truly relaxed.”

Mike nodded.

“I think,” he said, “that we accidentally found the perfect place.”