PRAGUE MAY 2000 day 3
Text by Pink Oboe, pictures from the Prague Information Service.
day 1 - day 2 - day 3 - days 4&5
In the morning I managed to wake Rosemary as I staggered around finding my socks and, unusually, she decided to come with me on my early morning explore. I had decided to head into New Town. We made our way to the Old Town Square which seemed the place to head out from for each of the explores. We headed down one of the narrow pedestrian ways out of the far side of the square. After a short distance we came to a rather impressive pair of buildings. On one side was the oldest theatre in Prague which I identified as the Estates, so called as it was patronised by the German nobility who were known as the Estates in the late eighteenth century that the place was jumping. That seems a rather inadequate explanation but it is the only one available. Opposite the Estates is the Charles University, most of the buildings of which are relatively modern but with some Gothic remains still surviving. Nearby was a modern fountain adding the glorious sound of cascading water to the early morning ambiance.
We continued
to a wide pedestrianised area full of modern shops and then through this to
eventually come to the real Wenceslas Square. It really is a long thin tree
lined boulevard and totally unlike a square but I presume the Czechs know what
they are talking about. At one end is the bulk of the National Museum and a
statue of Wenceslas looking Christian and rather muscular and waving his sword
about. (They can't touch you for it, apparently)
Rosemary and I dived off at an angle to see whether we could find a departmental store identified as Tesco. Whether this is the same organization as ours I do not know as we did not find it but I did see someone with a plastic bag a bit later and that definitely had the same logo. We found another whole suite of Art Nouveau buildings, some obviously recently cleaned. One had been a sort of General Post Office and showed a Greek lady (I thought she was a fella from the view I had through the view finder but not with those boobs said my wife) with her hand to her ear and over the top of this was the identifiable word "Telefon". She looked for all the world as though she had a mobile to her ear.
We circled back as it was rapidly getting to be rendezvous time with the nurks. With one wonder after another, we were a few minutes late and, breakfasted, headed out to show the nurks what we had found. This time I diverted via the market we had found in the St Gall's area. The market was a mixture of traditional fruit and veg with all sorts of touristy stuff as well: more or less what would sell and bring in a bob or two I suppose. The Czech's are learning about the delights of market forces quickly.
We eventually made it up to the top of Wenceslas Square and saw where Jan Palach and other students are commemorated in a mock grave. Palach actually set himself on fire on the steps of the National Museum and staggered in flames to collapse near the statue of Wenceslas. He took four days to die an agonizing death. It seems a hard way to become famous but he perhaps at least now has the satisfaction of being recorded in the annals as one of the focus points for the Czech revival and the final triumph of the Velvet Revolution in 1989. The Velvet Revolution that threw out the Communists and brought democracy back to Czechoslovakia led to the Velvet Divorce in 1993 when the Czech Republic and Slovakia went their separate ways. It seemed vaguely amazing to be in a place where so much had changed so recently. At the back of all my light comments about Prague is the wonder that they have survived, they have fought back the powers of oppression and darkness and can now walk in the sun as we do.
Once we had explored Wenceslas Square, Paul declared that he wanted to see a particular Baroque church dedicated to St John Nepamuk that was some way to the west. We headed off towards this getting further and further from the touristy bits and finally found it...........closed just as the guide book said it was likely to be. We admired the outside but could not get in. Nearby was a curious botanical garden which seemed practically deserted and, annoyingly for us, only had one entrance and exit so we had to back track. All of a sudden I was beginning to feel cold and tired. The cold seemed to be burying itself deep into my bones and my legs refused to answer in spite of the fact that we had not really walked a tremendous distance. I was desperate to get warm as we returned towards the river looking for somewhere for lunch. The restaurant on a boat that I was seeking was closed too and we eventually ended up in a snack bar but at least it was warm. The menu was in totally incomprehensible Czech and the only thing we could recognise was Goulash so we had that and very welcome too.
Onward with Paul now wanting to find a particular art gallery that sounded as though it was up on the hill with Prague Castle. I hauled myself along still feeling progressively weaker and colder. Eventually, and with the prospect of the steps to the Castle being too much, I resigned my commission and told the nurks that I was feeling rough and intended to return to the hotel.
"Bugger off then," said Joan sympathetically. So I did and scarcely had the oomph to get over the Charles Bridge and back to the hotel. I still could not get warm so climbed into bed and shivered until eventually I started to warm up. That was the first impact of a particularly virulent virus that had been afflicting Rosemary the weekend before and which is still lingering now a week and a half later despite antibiotics to kill off the resulting bronchitis.
The nurks eventually tracked down the gallery despite a lack of signposts but the pictures they wanted to see were in the part of the gallery that was closed. On their return they did get to see the Jewish memorial and the graveyard. They also tried to see the interior of St Tyn's but that was closed for restoration too. Ever get the feeling that the world is against you?
That evening we were programmed to go on our Jazz cruise so I wrapped myself up well and headed out with the rest to the river that was not far away. The trip was quite pleasant although the catering was a little primitive. We were somewhat warned of the nature of the catering when we saw the chef preparing the food with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. The first course that Rosemary and I had was pickled sausage that tasted remarkably like pickled sausage. The sausage had the consistency of sorbo rubber and required a good deal of chewing: all right but rather solid. The main course was a sort of pork shop with a coating of cheese that was again rather solid and the sort of Czech food we had been warned about. The music was acceptable with a singer who spoke English and sounded almost South American and certainly not Czech. One of the band members was English. The views from the boat were fine and provided a rather extensive length of camcorder action. One view I particularly remember was of the ancient hill of Vysehrad, the twin towers of its church floodlit. After about two and a half hours we returned and walked back through the darkened streets.
