Crossing the Charles Bridge at night
If my daughter was looking for a quiet week off from school during her fall break, she was mistaken. Taking advantage of her weeklong holiday, my family and I traveled to the Czech Republic, flying from Vilnius via Warsaw to Prague's Vaclav Havel Airport and arriving late on a Sunday afternoon. After checking into the Hotel Julian, located just south of the baroque Malá Strana (Little Quarter) district...:
...I capped off the evening with the first of many Czech pilsners and a plate of beef goulash and Czech-style dumplings:
Monday morning was cold but sunny as we began our first full day in the city. My wife and friend on the hotel's rooftop terrace, which is probably a nice place to hang out on a summer evening, but not a place to linger on a chilly late October morning:
Passing by several of David Černý's crawling babies outside the Kampa Museum:
Prague's most famous sight is the Charles Bridge. However, as we were halfway across the 500 meter-long span, the weather suddenly changed as heavy rain fell and strong wind gusts rendered my portable umbrella useless. We quickly beat a hasty retreat, seeking shelter inside the 17th-century Church of St. Francis Seraphinus just off the eastern end of the bridge. My daughter strikes a pose just as the deluge was about to begin:
Fortunately that was to be the worst of the weather we would face. In fact, the previous day the Czech Republic had experienced a violent wind storm, which explained the strong turbulence we encountered as we were descending into Prague. A Canadian couple seated near us at the restaurant where we had dinner Sunday evening told us that the winds were so strong Prague Castle had to close earlier that afternoon. Monday morning's rain (and sleet) left the three of us soaking wet, but it was soon over and to help dry off, we paid a visit to the late-14th-century Old Town Bridge Tower, on the eastern end of Charles Bridge in Staré Mésto (Old Town). The views of the bridge and the Church of St. Francis Seraphinus halfway to the top of the tower...:
...and the same views from the open-air rooftop further up:
Much drier by this point, we returned to the bridge to better appreciate the span. Charles Bridge dates from 1357, when Charles IV ordered a replacement to be built for a 12th-century predecessor that had been washed away by floods in 1342. The new bridge was finished in 1390, and was known simply as Stone Bridge until it was given Charles' name in the 19th century. Its 16 elegant arches span the width of the Vltava River, but its most striking feature is the 30 statues lining both sides of the bridge, with the first being erected in 1657 and the last going up in the 20th century (a replacement for one lost in a flood). The most famous statue is that of St. John of Nepomuk, the patron saint of Czechs, who legend has it was thrown off the bridge in 1393 by Wenceslas IV for refusing to divulge the queen's confessions. According to tradition, rubbing the bronze plaque will ensure you will return again to Prague:
Amber pauses by the spot where St. John of Nepomuk was supposedly tossed into the river:
Crossing under the Old Town Bridge Tower on our way into Staré Mésto:
Just after passing under the tower, my daughter surprised us by expressing a wish to see a museum of medieval torture devices. This is the same child who is leery of going into cathedrals because she might see graphic depictions of martyred saints, as happened to her when we visited Belgium several years ago. I wondered if this new-found interest in the macabre had something to do with the onset of puberty. If so, I have some ideas for how to deal with potential boyfriends:
Arriving in the Old Town Square, anchored by a 1915 statue of Jan Hus put up on the 500th anniversary of his death at the stake. In the background looms the Church of Our Lady Before Týn:
The most popular attraction in the Old Town Square is the Astronomical Clock, situated beneath the Old Town Hall Tower. The clock was installed in 1410; the four figures beside the clock are Vanity (holding a mirror), Greed (with a money bag; this figure was originally a Jewish money-lender but was altered after the Second World War), Death and a Turk (representing paganism). The four figures below these are a Chronicler, Angel, Astronomer and Philosopher:
Every hour, Death rings a bell and inverts his hourglass, and the 12 Apostles parade past the windows above the clock, looking at the crowd below. At the end, a cock crows and the hour is rung. The whole performance lasts less than 45 seconds, which is why I chose to watch it directly with my own eyes instead of looking through a camera or phone viewscreen. Fortunately, there are lots of videos of the show on YouTube:
The hour of twelve was upon us, meaning it was time for lunch, which for me was 300 grams of pork schnitzel and a plate of potato salad, washed down with a glass of the house brew:
The 15th-century Church of Our Lady Before Týn turned out to be closed on Mondays, so I had to make do with the elaborate depiction of the Crucifixion on the north portal:
The baroque Church of St. Nicholas (1730's) was open, however. It frequently serves as a venue for chamber music concerts:
Next up was a self-guided tour of the Old Town Hall, taking in the council chamber, assembly room and Gothic chapel:
The highlight here is the chance to see the inner workings of the Astronomical Clock's 12 Apostles. And thanks once again to YouTube for allowing me to enjoy the performance without worrying if I was getting it all on video:
Franz Kafka briefly lived in the building glimpsed through the window. His was a name that would leave its mark on our brief visit to Prague:
Back outside in the square:
The 65 meter-tall Powder Gate, constructed in 1475, and redecorated between 1875 and 1886:
As wonderful as the Charles Bridge, Astronomical Clock and Old Town Square are, the highlight of our outing on Monday was visiting the Museum of Communism. Well, the highlight for me, anyway - Shu-E preferred to rest on a bench in the lobby while I showed my daughter the wonderful world of Marxism-Leninism and the effect it had on life in the former Eastern bloc. The Communists seized power in a coup in 1948, initially with a lot of public support, though things quickly changed for the worse as the economy went into a tailspin, thousands were shipped off to labor camps and party members were executed in Stalinist-style purges:
The infamous Munich Agreement is remembered with much bitterness today as a betrayal of Czechs and Slovaks:
The former Czechoslovakia once "boasted" of having the world's largest statue of Joseph Stalin, until it was destroyed in 1962:
People in the Eastern bloc coped the best they could, and having a dark sense of humor helped:
For a brief moment in the spring of 1968, the future was looking brighter, until Soviet tanks put an end to "Socialism with a human face":
The whole corrupt edifice collapsed in the Velvet Revolution of November 1989:
Some capitalist souvenir shopping. The postcard reads: "Sometimes there was no toilet paper in the shops. Luckily there was not much food either.":
Leaving the Museum of Communism and the recent dark past behind, we retrieved Shu-E and ventured back into the friendly confines of Staré Mésto:
For dinner we went to Zebra Express for pad thai and noodles. Czech food shares much in common with Lithuanian fare, meaning we need frequent breaks from the usual meat, potatoes and dumplings:
Crossing the Charles Bridge at night. In the background is Prague Castle, which we would visit the following day:
Prague is a charming city, and it's easy to understand why so many young Americans flocked there in the early 1990's after the collapse of the Iron Curtain (fortunately most of them appear to have moved on since then). These days it's Korean visitors who are drawn by the seeming thousands to the capital of the Czech Republic. Our flight from Warsaw to Prague was filled with young Koreans, and the signage in Vaclav Havel Airport was in Czech, English, Russian...and Hangul (no Chinese or Japanese, not to mention French or German). Everywhere we turned in Staré Mésto, there were groups of Koreans, mostly 20- or 30-somethings, but also gangs of ajumma. On our way to the Museum of Communism, we came across a grocery store selling food items from South Korea and packed with young Korean travelers.
I asked the question "Why?" on Facebook and one of my friends answered, though in a somewhat bizarre fashion, quote "They are there to celebrate the 500 (sic) anniversary of Martin Luther. But since any white race will do, I guess it was cheaper there." I thought he was kidding, but apparently this was a serious observation of his. A Google search failed to turn up any evidence of flocks of Koreans traveling to Europe to celebrate the Ninety-five Theses. However, as I suspected, Google brought up numerous hits referring to a popular 2005 South Korean TV drama called Lovers in Prague, which is most likely the catalyst for the ongoing popularity of Prague as a destination for South Korean tourists, particularly young couples:
