I suspect what we’re delivered isn’t from either Germany or the Czech Republic. It comes from some
AirBnB lands us in a ground floor apartment in the middle of town, and we set off to explore this Gothic wonderland. We can’t help but be amazed as we walk around the twisting, cobbled side streets, each turn revealing a Gothic spire, an old tower, a statue, a square bedecked with cafe umbrellas, dazzling Swarovski crystal shops, micro-breweries, or sadly at times, a Starbucks or KFC. Even Prague isn’t immune to cultural degradation.
First official stop is the Castle and St Vitus cathedral on the hill over the Vitava River by way of the pedestrian-only Charles Bridge.
Unfortunately the interior of the Castle itself is closed for “operational reasons”, so we miss out on one of the highlights. But there’s plenty else to do visiting museums of Prague’s early history, wandering the cathedral and strolling little back alleys and gardens.
My Czech isn’t very good,
There are hazards of course in wandering around tourist areas. We do the obvious by zipping up bags and pockets to guard against the light-fingered, but the real hazards are Asian tourists.
Stopping and turning at random in big groups for photos, you either trip over them, get taken out by their swinging Canons, or have an eye removed by an errant selfie pole.
Again the engineering aspects attract my attention. Flying
buttresses to transfer the lateral loads from the vaulted walls and ceilings to the ground, and drainage systems terminated by exquisitely carved gargoyles.
You can tell the artisans really had some fun with these guys, and their grotesque forms were accepted by the church in those days due to their functional and subservient role in God’s glorious creation.
Every hour a crowd gathers around the astronomical clock, and for good reason.
The skeleton rings the bell to open the shutters, which reveal a procession of saints gliding past.
We carry on to the square in the heart of the Old Town as dusk falls. Performers are entertaining the kids by constructing huge soap bubbles. A busker is playing an Elton John medley. Pauline and I have a hug and agree the Proon’s going well. We drop a few korunas in the busker’s hat.
The Powder Tower near the centre of town used to be on an ancient perimeter wall, but as the town expanded it fell into disuse, eventually ending up as a gunpowder
store. Now it’s a place to extract money from tourists wanting to climb the 200-odd steps to the top. But the cost is reasonable, and the views at dusk spectacular (particularly of the twin-spired Tyn Church), so well worth the money. In case you’re wondering, the two spires aren’t quite symmetrical - representing the male and female sides of the world in Gothic times.
The cost isn’t so reasonable for the old Jewish cemetery and synagogue. Pauline’s been here before and says it’s really worth a visit. But the entry fee is usurious, and I feel like I’m being ripped off, so we pass it by. I content myself with Pauline’s description supplemented by pics from Wikipedia, and don’t feel I’ve missed a thing. Toppled gravestones, religious iconography and reminders of the Holocaust aren’t really my scene anyway. Apparently the costs don’t stop once inside - you’re told the scenes make no sense unless you hire an expensive audio guide. Oh and by the way, you pay extra for the privilege of taking photos. Avoid this place like the plague unless you’re of Jewish heritage.
As opposed to Berlin, there aren’t too many reminders of the former Czechoslovakia’s post-war
Soviet domination and struggle for independence. Surprising as the Prague Spring led by Alexander Dubcek in 1968 and brutally repressed by the Warsaw Pact nations reverberated around the world. Perhaps we just didn’t visit the right museum, but we did find this sobering memorial of “missing” men in a local park.
The Czechs are more fond of Wenceslas, an early king infamously murdered by his younger brother (Boleslav the Cruel) for being generous, fair and even-handed. Wenceslas was raised to sainthood - the patron saint of Bohemia and subsequently the Czech state. His eponymous square in the heart of town is magnificent.
Legend has it that the equestrian statue of King Wenceslas will one day come to life, raise a sleeping army and slay those who dare to threaten the Motherland. Sadly legends are just legends, and the Warsaw Pact troops had things all their own way - until 1989 at least when the Prague Spring finally arrived.
Wandering around you’ll see we’re well rugged up. This is very much our Prague Autumn, and temperatures are just above freezing overnight. We wake up to fog, and as we stroll around in four degree temperatures we wonder if the sun is ever going to break through the cloud. Occasionally it does, but it’s rare to get to double digit temperatures. The special iPhone gloves Pauline gave me for my birthday really come into their own here - warm hands but still screen-friendly. Just a shame the fingerprint sensor doesn’t work.
So you have a brief to design a new building in the middle of Prague’s baroque heritage area.
Do you design something in keeping with its neighbours, or do you go out on a limb and design something radically modern? Needless to say, the Dancing House, generated a bit of controversy back in the 90s when it was constructed, but it’s now considered an icon of Prague.
The beauty of apartment living is we can buy our own food from the supermarkets and cook our own meals. Not only does it keep costs down, it lets us experience a bit more of what every day life for the locals is like, and what food choices they have available. Not surprisingly, Tescos in the middle of Prague is pretty much like any other supermarket - plenty of fruit and veggies as well as everything else you’d expect. So why the central European aversion to green veggies?
We do hit the local restaurants of course, trying to choose local cuisine where we can. Lunch at Il tri ruzi is a case in point.
A micro-brewery specialising in Czech food, the monastic-style unfiltered beer is superb as expected, and Pauline’s spicy sausage cooked in beer certainly tasty, though not a green supplement to be seen.
It’s the sort of place where you want to spend the whole afternoon - Led Zep’s Stairway to Heaven is playing as we arrive, football soon gives way to bike speedway on the TV, and the vibe is good. Even the walls are decorated in the style of religious frescoes, though instead of graphic images condemning sinners to hellfire and the faithful to lute-playing angels, here we have mirth and bonhomie associated with a frothy stein. Only the King and the jester seem a bit the worse for wear after over-imbibing.
Dinner is at Potrefena Husa, and predictably I order the Prague special - pork knee. Delicious of course, but the closest I get to a veggie is the bed of fried red onion, and a horse-radish sauce condiment. Like German food, this is tasty and warming, but lacking in nutritional balance and nothing to write home about. The beer, however, makes up for it, and also makes up the nutritional deficit through unique essence of hop. You just need to drink sufficient quantities for balance (watching for the subsequent lack thereof).
Time to leave Prague, and dispensing with our usual muesli and yoghurt for breakfast we head for the recommended Cafe Louvre. Out of sheer determination I order the Czech breakfast, while Pauline caters to her taste buds with the French breakfast. Pauline’s choice is of course the better, with her omelette and croissant far surpassing my boiled egg, breads and bland cheese.
The menu says “Service not included”, and it got that right. While the food arrives in reasonable time, the coffee doesn’t. Just as it’s time for us to leave, it shows up. Frustrating inattentive service, more stuffing around with the bill and we’re behind schedule to get to the train station. Not a feeling I like. Leaving a city should be a leisurely, reflective affair, not a rush to the station.
Hot and sweaty we collapse into our seats and let our blood pressure and heart rate subside. Now it’s time for reflection.
There is no doubt Prague is a beautiful, romantic city, and a must-see if you’re in this part of Europe. You’ll be blown away by the architecture, the sights, and the vibe. It’s almost like living in the middle of a fantasy wonderland. Does anyone actually live and work here for real, unless to cater to the tourists?
The Powder Tower near the centre of town used to be on an ancient perimeter wall, but as the town expanded it fell into disuse, eventually ending up as a gunpowder
The cost isn’t so reasonable for the old Jewish cemetery and synagogue. Pauline’s been here before and says it’s really worth a visit. But the entry fee is usurious, and I feel like I’m being ripped off, so we pass it by. I content myself with Pauline’s description supplemented by pics from Wikipedia, and don’t feel I’ve missed a thing. Toppled gravestones, religious iconography and reminders of the Holocaust aren’t really my scene anyway. Apparently the costs don’t stop once inside - you’re told the scenes make no sense unless you hire an expensive audio guide. Oh and by the way, you pay extra for the privilege of taking photos. Avoid this place like the plague unless you’re of Jewish heritage.
As opposed to Berlin, there aren’t too many reminders of the former Czechoslovakia’s post-war
The Czechs are more fond of Wenceslas, an early king infamously murdered by his younger brother (Boleslav the Cruel) for being generous, fair and even-handed. Wenceslas was raised to sainthood - the patron saint of Bohemia and subsequently the Czech state. His eponymous square in the heart of town is magnificent.
Wandering around you’ll see we’re well rugged up. This is very much our Prague Autumn, and temperatures are just above freezing overnight. We wake up to fog, and as we stroll around in four degree temperatures we wonder if the sun is ever going to break through the cloud. Occasionally it does, but it’s rare to get to double digit temperatures. The special iPhone gloves Pauline gave me for my birthday really come into their own here - warm hands but still screen-friendly. Just a shame the fingerprint sensor doesn’t work.
So you have a brief to design a new building in the middle of Prague’s baroque heritage area.
The beauty of apartment living is we can buy our own food from the supermarkets and cook our own meals. Not only does it keep costs down, it lets us experience a bit more of what every day life for the locals is like, and what food choices they have available. Not surprisingly, Tescos in the middle of Prague is pretty much like any other supermarket - plenty of fruit and veggies as well as everything else you’d expect. So why the central European aversion to green veggies?
We do hit the local restaurants of course, trying to choose local cuisine where we can. Lunch at Il tri ruzi is a case in point.
It’s the sort of place where you want to spend the whole afternoon - Led Zep’s Stairway to Heaven is playing as we arrive, football soon gives way to bike speedway on the TV, and the vibe is good. Even the walls are decorated in the style of religious frescoes, though instead of graphic images condemning sinners to hellfire and the faithful to lute-playing angels, here we have mirth and bonhomie associated with a frothy stein. Only the King and the jester seem a bit the worse for wear after over-imbibing.
Dinner is at Potrefena Husa, and predictably I order the Prague special - pork knee. Delicious of course, but the closest I get to a veggie is the bed of fried red onion, and a horse-radish sauce condiment. Like German food, this is tasty and warming, but lacking in nutritional balance and nothing to write home about. The beer, however, makes up for it, and also makes up the nutritional deficit through unique essence of hop. You just need to drink sufficient quantities for balance (watching for the subsequent lack thereof).
Time to leave Prague, and dispensing with our usual muesli and yoghurt for breakfast we head for the recommended Cafe Louvre. Out of sheer determination I order the Czech breakfast, while Pauline caters to her taste buds with the French breakfast. Pauline’s choice is of course the better, with her omelette and croissant far surpassing my boiled egg, breads and bland cheese.
The menu says “Service not included”, and it got that right. While the food arrives in reasonable time, the coffee doesn’t. Just as it’s time for us to leave, it shows up. Frustrating inattentive service, more stuffing around with the bill and we’re behind schedule to get to the train station. Not a feeling I like. Leaving a city should be a leisurely, reflective affair, not a rush to the station.
Hot and sweaty we collapse into our seats and let our blood pressure and heart rate subside. Now it’s time for reflection.
There is no doubt Prague is a beautiful, romantic city, and a must-see if you’re in this part of Europe. You’ll be blown away by the architecture, the sights, and the vibe. It’s almost like living in the middle of a fantasy wonderland. Does anyone actually live and work here for real, unless to cater to the tourists?
But Prague isn’t without its less pleasant side. Excluding the cuisine which many will find perfectly acceptable, the big issue with Prague is the way motor vehicle traffic dominates what should be pedestrian precincts. Worse than that, motorists are very pushy and aggressive, parking on footpaths, running red lights, and trying to bully you even when pedestrians have the right of way at pedestrian crossings.
And don’t even think of cycling here - infrastructure is almost non-existent. I did spot one busy street with a sharrow marked on it, but even angels would fear to tread/pedal there. It’s so vastly different from Amsterdam and Copenhagen, and even Berlin. Looks like the further south we go, the worse it gets. Fingers crossed the Hungarians reverse the trend.
Finally there are the smokers. Cigarettes and cigars must be cheap, because unpleasantly the streets are full of foul-smelling second-hand smoke. In NZ we got rid of smokers from restaurants and bars long ago. Not so the Czechs, where there is only nominal separation.
So go to Prague. Sit in an open-air cafe, sip on a beer, and gaze in awe at the architecture. With a smile on your face watch the world slide past and call yourself a Bohemian. Just be sure to parachute into the cafe to avoid being run down getting there, sit on the windward side, and hope the waiter’s done a Kiwihost course.
And don’t even think of cycling here - infrastructure is almost non-existent. I did spot one busy street with a sharrow marked on it, but even angels would fear to tread/pedal there. It’s so vastly different from Amsterdam and Copenhagen, and even Berlin. Looks like the further south we go, the worse it gets. Fingers crossed the Hungarians reverse the trend.
Finally there are the smokers. Cigarettes and cigars must be cheap, because unpleasantly the streets are full of foul-smelling second-hand smoke. In NZ we got rid of smokers from restaurants and bars long ago. Not so the Czechs, where there is only nominal separation.
So go to Prague. Sit in an open-air cafe, sip on a beer, and gaze in awe at the architecture. With a smile on your face watch the world slide past and call yourself a Bohemian. Just be sure to parachute into the cafe to avoid being run down getting there, sit on the windward side, and hope the waiter’s done a Kiwihost course.
No comments:
Post a Comment