The poet Andre Breton, proclaimed that Prague was the magical capital of old Europe. Artists described the city as a black temptress... hidden in the neglige of the white mists of the River Vltava, a tempting and treacherous woman, a capricious harlot -- a dark Salome who dances with the heads of her paramours. Italian academic Angelo Maria Ripellino described the city as a breeding ground for phantoms, an arena of sorcery ... It is a trip which -- once it takes hold with its mists, its black arts, its poisoned honey -- does not let go, does not forgive."
-- Prologue to the book Prague, written by Sona Thomova and Zdenek Thoma
I have been having a hard time explaining our visit to Prague, which was the second stop on our European vacation this fall. Normally, I can sit down and get right into it. But for some reason, I've been struggling with describing our time in this city of history -- full of age-old dreams and ancient legends.
Like the constantly changing head of Franz Kafka's statue near Narodni Trida Square in Prague's New Town, it's hard to put your finger on what makes the town so interesting.
This much is easy -- Prague is a beautiful city. Untouched by the destructive bombing of World War II, the city's combination of gothic, renaissance, baroque and art nouveau architecture remains one of its many delights. This morning I have escaped the boring confines of my hotel room to explore the natural beauty above the River Vltava, which winds its way through the very center of the city. The banks of the river are connected by twenty bridges, including the medieval Charles Bridge and the art nouveau Czech Bridge with its four statues of Victory. Behind me, through an early morning mist, are the remains of Vysehrad (Czech for "upper castle"), a historical fort built on a hill above the river in the 10th century. Within its remaining walls, is the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul (with its twin spires reaching toward the skies) and the Vysehrad Cemetery, containing the remains of many famous Czech people.
As I stand on its remaining brick ramparts, I am able to see the land and hills that surround the city of Prague. There are seven hills on which rest high stone walls, palace gardens and the St.Thomas, Brabant and Strahov breweries. On the horizon, Castle Prague's huge mass cannot be missed as it sits atop a hill covered by the early morning haze. Beneath its watchful eye is a collection of reddish-orange roofs and white houses leading down to the river.
A small boat, with its white hull and bright red cabin, gently floats by the cliff I am standing on. I wonder if its occupant -- maybe a fisherman looking for steelhead or brown trout -- knows about the legends that have walked the embankments of this river -- Wenceslas Hollar, Bedfich Smetana, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Alfrons Mucha and Franz Kafka. For centuries, their stories, songs and paintings have captured Prague's beautiful and picturesque subjects.
Luckily for us, this is our first full day in Prague. It will give us lots of time to unravel the mysteries that remain hidden -- much like some moss-covered door which leads underground, unopened but for the bravest of us.
* * * * *
Ales, our young guide from Walking Prague, stops and turns toward us with the excitement of a new father. His voice is raised in an effort to speak over the passing crowd.
"As I said earlier -- Prague is divided into four main areas: New Town, Jewish Quarter, Lesser Town and Old Town. We spent this morning in New Town and had lunch near the Jewish Quarter, getting a glimpse of the Old Jewish Cemetery and their New Synagogue. Surrounding the Jewish Quarter is Old Town. which we are in now."
"The Old Town Square is the city's oldest and most significant square. Its history dates back to the 10th century, when it served as a marketplace at the crossroads of European trade routes. At the square there were both fixed and portable shops. Around the base of the town hall tower there were thirteen stone shops, where the most expensive imported cloth was sold. Even the town hall building itself was surrounded by shops of marketers.
He continues, "Portable stalls were occupied by bakers, potters, manufacturers of wood products, herbalists, ginger bread producers and other craftsmen selling their goods. On the south side there were vendors of mushrooms, strawberries and other forest goods, including game, vegetables, butter, cheese cakes, grease, wreaths, skirts and fish."
Ales's voice gradually trails off as I wander away to take photos of the buildings on the edges of the Old Town Square. As I cross the cobble stoned area, I am struck by the beautiful houses standing bolt upright on very narrow foundations -- their facades a rich mixture of oranges, greens, reds and yellows. Dominating the square, however, is the Church of Our Lady Before Ty, with its two slender gothic towers, each with eight spires.
I continue around the eastern side of the square until I am stopped by a mass of tourists waiting for the ringing of Prague's famous astronomical clock. On the hour, a grinning skeleton flips an hourglass and rings a bell to remind us that nothing lasts forever; the apostles and Christ file past and then a cock crows to mark the end of the spectacle. It's viewed as one of Prague's most popular tourist attractions, but it leaves me disappointed.The beauty of the historic buildings and shops is far more interesting to me and my Canon Rebel.
Of particular interest are the white markings at my feet, which represent a historical event in Prague's history. On the very spot that I am standing -- on June 21, 1621 -- was the execution of twenty-seven Bohemian nobles, knights and burghers following the Habsburg forces' victory at the Battle of White Mountain. Three were hung in front of the Old Town hall and the rest were beheaded. The rebels' bodies were quartered and their heads and limbs mounted in various parts of Prague and other towns as a warning against future uprisings.
By now Ales, Liz, Mark and LuAnn have joined me and together we walk toward the river. It has been a blast having him as our walking guide. After meeting us at our hotel, Ales -- at student at Prague University -- has taken us on a historic trip through some of the best parts of new and old Prague (although I think all of it is pretty "old.").
We have really enjoyed his perspective on not just the ancient history of Prague, but also his telling of the more modern events that have shaped Prague, including the ouster of the Soviet Union in 1989. With a full day at his disposal, Ales has helped us understand the tram system and pointed out a few restaurants that are worth going to.
We stop before the Old Town Bridge Tower, which gives us our first view of Charles Bridge, perhaps the most famous of Prague's many bridges. The bridge tower, built in the 14th century, is considered one of the most beautiful high gothic towers in the country and -- some say -- of all Europe.
As with so many of the things we have seen in Prague, the tower is decorated with figures that tell a story. In the vault of the tower is a graceful female figure who is supposed to be a bath attendant by the name of Zuzana, who helped the King of Bohemia -- King Wenceslas -- escape from prison by secretly taking him to the other side of the Vltava River in a little boat. Once free, the king was able to reassert his authority and gain control of the city. As a reward, the king gave Zuzana ownership of the popular baths located near Charles Bridge. He also raised the guild of bath attendants to the status of an honored craft by creating its own coat of arms -- a towel rolled into a circle and inside it a kingfisher on a golden field. It is this coat of arms that is painted on the ceiling of the vault in the Old Town Bridge Tower.
It is at the bridge that Ales finally says "Sbohon" (good bye) and leaves us to navigate this great city on our own. It is a journey that will take us across the Charles Bridge to Lesser Town, as well as Prague Castle and into the hills above Prague by tram and bus.
But that is for another day.
* * * * *
I can still remember my initial reaction to the lady behind the counter at U Simeka, our hotel in Prague: Why so serious? After the boisterous affair we had had with the hotel clerks in Munich for Oktoberfest, it came as a real culture shock.
And it seemed to extend beyond the lobby of our hotel. People we meet on the street or in the trams are equally sour. Perhaps it is the overcast skies or my reaction to the graffiti-marked buildings. Something seems different, more restrained and cautious than what we experienced in Germany.
As it turns out, social interaction in the Czech Republic is more formal than other central European countries. That's the best way I can put it. I don't think that they aren't friendly (our walking guide is proof of that), but I do think it has something to do with their language and being under the thumb of Communist Russia. At times I had the feeling some still hadn't gotten over it. For those born after 1989, Prague has been a parliamentary republic. For some born before, Prague was a one-party government of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia.
It took student demonstrations and a period of upheaval known as sametova revoluce -- the Velvet Revolution -- for the people of the Czech Republic to finally throw off the chains of communist rule. It took only 10 days, but what started as peaceful protests celebrating International Student's Day, quickly morphed into some brutal violence in central Prague. Similar protests broke out in other Czech and Slovak cities before the communist party admitted defeat and stepped down.
When our walking guide took us to Wenceslas Square, he beamed with pride after telling us the story, pointing to an upper balcony where Vaclav Havel spoke to the people of Prague after becoming president. I can remember seeing the CBS Evening News broadcast of that day when hundreds of thousands of people crowded this square to celebrate a new direction for the people of Czechoslovakia.
It was -- and remains to this day -- a significant turning point for the people of Prague. We are reminded that the practice of jingling keys -- symbolizing the unlocking of doors and "telling the communists to go home" -- no longer applies to tourists. Lucky for us.
If the occupation by communists can be seen in the sad eyes and faces of today's Czech people, then the joys and pride of the Slav people can be found in Alphones Mucha's Slav Epic, a series of twenty monumental canvases (and I mean monumental -- the largest measuring over 20 by 53 feet), depicting the history of the Slav people and civilization.
In the series of paintings, Mucha shows a number of episodes from the country's past -- ten highlighting Czech history and ten showing historical events from other Slavonic regions. It is a presentation that is unmatched anywhere else in the world. What makes it so wonderful is how the Slavic history is completely shown -- from the early scenes of Slavic mythology to the last canvas that shows their spiritual side. Like most art, it's probably hard to appreciate unless you can stand in the darkened gallery surrounded by these huge, awesome paintings. But it was an awesome walk through history with the Czech people.
And finally, I can't forget Czech pivo (beer). That's right, beer. I discovered that history can be so much more interesting if you take time out for a beer break. And there's no better place to do that than in Prague.
Beer has a long history in the Czech Republic, with brewing taking place in the Breynov Monastery in 993.
The most common Czech beers are pale lagers of the pilsner type, with its clear golden color, lots of foam and light flavor. Pilsner Urquell was the first pilsner type beer in the world, created by Josef Groll, a German brewer living in Prague. It became an immediate success. So much so that it was exported by train all over the Austrian Empire (a special train of beer traveled to Vienna every morning). Exports of Czech beer finally reached Paris and the United States by 1874.
It's interesting to know that the name "Budweiser" was first used by the Burgerliches Brahau Budweis in 1795 long before U.S. brewer Anheuser-Busch began making a beer which it also called "Budweiser." After a heated dispute over the famous trademark name, it was decided that the Czech Budweiser would be sold in America as Czechvar, but Budweiser through out the European Union.
During our visit to Prague, we tasted Pilsner Urquell, Budweiser Budvar, Staropramen, Bernard and my favorite -- Velkopopovicky Kozel.
* * * * *
The young lady smiles and says, "Welcome to Folkloregarten! Can I give you some Medovina?" In her outstretched hands she holds a tray of shot glasses filled with a golden liquid that reminds me of a drink I had wisely avoided our first day in Prague.
"Sure," I say and select two for Liz and myself. It was our last night in town and I felt like throwing caution to the wind. I put the shot glass to my lips and with a quick toss of my head drink the liquid. "Ah, it's mead, or something like it!" Its warmth slides down my throat and into my chest. I wipe my lips with the back of my hand and look at Liz before suggesting we have another round.
After handing us another two glasses, our hostess points us toward a large building -- a roubenka or timbered house -- that resembles something you would see in the Czech countryside. Inside, long wooden tables are set for dinner, with red and green checkered napkins. From the ceiling hang a variety of dried flowers, bunches of onions, and wicker baskets. Adorning the walls of the timbered house are antique tractor parts, including sickles, saws and large wooden wheels.
"These are good seats" Liz says as we thank our host and sit on long benches that run parallel to the table. "This is great! Look at everything -- " Her head turns left and right, finally stopping at the stage where traditional Moravian instruments sit unattended. " -- this place is so cool!"
LuAnn, sitting across from us is removing her blue jean jacket. "I thought the outdoor village and gardens were pretty great too. I had no idea this place was like this. I know we're five minutes from downtown on the banks of the Vltava River, but I feel like we're 20 miles outside Prague in the countryside."
Which is exactly what Folklore Gardens is all about. Liz had found them in Rick Steve's travel book and it had gotten good reviews from Trip Advisor. It promised a fun evening, one with traditional music, dancing and food. What better way to complete our time here before heading to Vienna tomorrow morning?
Soon, busloads of people are streaming into the dining hall. We decide that they are coming from everywhere -- Israel, Germany, Japan, France and Canada to name a few -- based on the flags at each table. To my surprise we are the only ones from the United States. Four against four hundred, but up for the challenge nonetheless.
As the evening's show begins and we are introduced to our emcee and members of the band and dancers, I feel myself slipping away into a concurrence of color and sound. I don't know if it is the wine or the intoxicating sounds of the Czech folk music, but I feel a closer connection to the city and its people than when walking through the touristy areas of Old Town and Castle Quarter.
Our emcee grabs a microphone and says "Czechs have always had a passion for dancing and singing. The dancing we are seeing is often named for towns where they were first introduced, like the hulan and waltz-like sousedska."
As the dancers appear wearing their kroje -- traditional costumes -- I grab my camera and start snapping pictures. Despite the small view finder, I'm still loving their simple costumes -- for the women, white blouses covered by red and black dresses adorned with colorful beads and flowered ribbons. An apron is tied in the back and a thin headband circles their heads. For the men, yellow breeches end slightly above their knees while white shirts are covered by short black jackets. Finishing their costumes is a bright red scarf tucked neatly into their pants.
The dancers continue to stomp their feet loudly on the wooden floor, while clapping their hands. Dancers flow from one end of the floor to the other, alternately standing behind their partner, then parting before grabbing each other again. By the time the swift, complex music ends, the dancers are sweating and breathing hard.
And after new introductions, more dancers appear and the music begins again.
I catch Liz looking my way, and I smile -- knowing that we have unlocked another door leading to understanding the people of Prague. For it is not the everyday grind that shapes the lives of its people, but their proud history as told through folklore dance and music.
And after just four short days, I know I will miss it.
