Modern yet medieval

Prague with its interesting skyline and hospitable people is a must see, says AMRITA SHETTY.

I HAVE exactly four Czech friends - the Tumovas. From them, I have heard many tales of their beautiful, unspoilt city "the most wonderful city in the world". A city renowned for its cobbled pathways, romantic bridges, bizarre mix of Baroque-Art deco - communist style architecture and its beer. So I finally decided to see this magical city for myself and got on a fast train from Munich to Prague.

My first feeling on reaching Prague was utter bewilderment. No sooner did I get off the train than I was greeted by a loud chorus of friendly people. I was sure that I did not know this crowd of raucous Prazens. It turns out that they were on the platform not to welcome a visitor from faraway India, but rather to get the travel-weary visitor into their households for a monetary consideration. Indeed, if you do not have accommodation in Prague, do not worry. At the railway platform, there are scores of women wandering around with signs Zimmer Frei and Privat Zimmer. These are lodging establishments ranging from regular hostels to a room in a house. In this formerly communist country, the spirit of capitalism is fast catching on.

The area around the main train station - Hlavni Ndrazi - (and yes, it takes time to get used to the lack of vowels in the Czech language) - is fraught with potential danger for the unwary tourist. It is full of gypsies (said to be of Indian origin), who have an unsavoury reputation of being thieves and pickpockets. My hosts warned me not to get upset if I got hostile glares from locals mistaking me for a gypsy. With my torn jeans, dirty T- shirt and regulation backpack. I did not think anybody was going to mistake me for anything but what I was - an impecunious student backpacker.

Prague, unlike many of its European counterparts, survived the devastation of World War II. Consequently, it is a physical paen to European architectural history embracing Baroque palaces that were built under the Habsburgs, medieval fortresses and castles, ugly, ominous and anonymous communist era buildings that conjure up Kafkaesque nightmares and gorgeously decadent Art-Deco buildings of the early 20th Century.

A short walk from the station brings one to the Nove Mesto or New Town, whose hectic commercial flavour - Prague's first McDonalds franchise was set up here - bespeaks the country's rapid transition to capitalism. The pivot of this district is the famous Wenceslas Square, a long, wide boulevard that was the heart of Czech political action over the years from the Prague Spring of 1968 to the pro-democracy Revolution of 1989. Today, there is little of this agitational upheaval that made and unmade Czech polity. Instead, the avenue is ringed by myriad business and commercial establishments like banks, financial institutions, restaurants, clothing stores, credit card companies, all of which are tangible symbols of the Czech Republics aggressive drive to becoming a full fledged market-led economy.

Prague consists of five distinct areas that lie scattered around the magnificent Vltava (also known as Moldau) a river that bifurcates the city, along a North-South axis. Its focal point is the magnificent Charles bridge that arches over linking Mala Strana (Little Side) with its numerous government offices and museums with Stare Mesto (Old Town). Charles bridge is a solid stone construction that is strictly for pedestrians. The arms of the bridge are punctuated at regular intervals by sculptures of real and mythical figures from Czech history. Its cobbled walkway is full of vendors who sell everything from jewellery and glassware to paintings and clothes. Occasionally, at the head and foot of the bridge, one spies jugglers, musicians, sword swallowers and marrionettes. Most vendors on the Charles bridge have to obtain a licence from the State certifying that their work is of exceptional quality and is being sold at reasonable prices. Policemen, a rarity in the rest of Prague, patrol the area unobtrusively to ensure that only the licensed vendors ply their trade.

The Old Town is another distinct area of Prague. Anchored by the Old Town Hall, it attracts hordes of locals and tourists. The main draw here is the 14th Century clock tower that plays melodious music every hour with the visual accompaniment of a mechanical parade of saints. The day I was there a grand Renaissance parade was held marking Prague's rise under King Rudolph II. This was vintage Prague.

Tucked away behind the Clock Tower, was a little garden where in connection with the parade, honey mead was being dispensed lavishly. For starters, there were several "noblemen" and "ladies" dressed in typical Renaissance style. Mounted on horses and riding in carriages were "soldiers" and "aristocrats", all clad in meticulously recreated Renaissance costumes. And, serene, in the midst of all this activity, sitting in an eight horse carriage and smiling benevolently at the gawking crowds, was a well known Czech TV personality. A big, gruff, bearded man, he looked the part he was playing, of Rudolph II, (one of the founders of Prague).

Prague's magnificent castles have made it the prime destination for history and architecture buffs.

In the heart of Prague, rising like a testament to the city's medieval greatness is the Prazky Hrad (Prague Castle) complex. It is the city's defining landmark and is characterised by moats, dungeons, soaring spires and sloping, tiled red roofs. There is so much to see in Prague castle that it is necessary to visit it over two days. The castle contains within its considerable walls (which, by the way, afford a wonderful bird's-eye-view of the city), the Hradni Gallery (Castle Gallery) where there are works by Titian, Tintoretto and Rubens. Then, as if that were not enough to absorb, there is the St. Vitus' Cathedral that took almost six centuries to complete. The Cathedral has gothic and neo-gothic buttresses that soar into the air on the outside while inside is the most exquisite stained glass work highlighted in the work of Art Deco artiste Alfons Mucha whose window design can be seen in the New Archbishop's Chapel, within the Cathedral. Then there is the Karlovsky Palace (Royal Palace) that lies perched on a ridge. Its main feature is the immense stone floored Vladislav Hall that was built to accommodate jousting equestrians. The Palace also has the Defenstration Room where governors rebelling against Catholic rulers in the 17th Century were economically disposed of by the simple expedient of flinging them out of a window. This concept of defenstration - just throwing people you disagree with out of windows - is a hoary Czech tradition since the Renaissance.

With so much to see in the Prague castle complex, its almost impossible to pinpoint one area of especial interest. But my favourite was the Golden Lane (Zlata Ulicka).

In the 16th Century, into the castle walls were built the tiniest, almost dwarf-like houses for artists, who lived there over several centuries. Writers like Franz Kafka lived here and his living quarters are well marked. Today, the houses are mostly commercial, tourist friendly traps that sell everything from folk costumes to artefacts. If you hear frequent blood curdling screams while walking on Golden Lane, it has nothing to do with claustrophobia, it is just that the castle dungeon is situated at the end of the road. It appeals only to the perverse hearts of those who find pleasure in medieval torture devices.

If India has musical pillars as in Suchindram, Prague boasts of the "singing fountain" of Belvedere Summer Palace, a lovely airy Renaissance style palace that was built in the mid 16th Century for an Italian princess who pined for the Tuscan summer homes of her youth. The "singing fountain" emits a voice-like, tinkling sound when you sit under its metal bowl.

If Prague seems all magical, medieval charm, then it probably pays to visit Josefov, a Jewish ghetto. Prague had a flourishing Jewish culture that emanated from Josefov right from the 10th Century. But with the Holocaust, most of Prague's Jews either perished or fled. Today, synagogues, museums and cemeteries remain a moving testimonial to the Jews of Prague. Most moving is the Pinkas synagogue that contains the names of more than 77,000 Bohemian and Moravian Jews killed by the Nazis. There is also the oldest standing synagogue in Europe - the Staronova synagoga that was built in 1270 in the old Gothic style. The mood in Josefov is sombre and quiet, a marked contrast to the Baroque flamboyance and colour of Prague's medieval monuments.

Prague has something for everyone. At the cost of sounding macabre, one of my favourite spots was a cemetery - the Slavin cemetery. Here are the tombs of most of Prague's famous cultural icons - composers Dvorak and Smetana and sculptor Frantisek Bilek. The tombs here are carefully tended, each being a study in itself of architectural design. Wandering between the tombs are bent, grizzled old men in black clothes with eyes turned downward. They shuffle slowly through the rows of tombs, stopping occasionally to place a flower at one or pay a silent homage at another. The Slavin cemetery is enclosed in another of Prague's inexhaustible supply of castles - Vyserhad. Vyserhad subscribes to every stereotype of what a medieval castle should look like. It presides over Prague from a promontory that overlooks the bustling Vltava River. In its scale, majesty and immutability it brings to mind the Rajput fortresses of Jaisalmer and Chittor, as they stand sentinel over time and history.

If there is grave medieval majesty in Prague's castles, there is equally the Baroque flair and art-deco insouciance of many of its urban buildings. At every corner, one stumbles on little gems like the Municipal House with designs by Alfons Mucha. The wrought iron staircase that curls upwards in dizzying splendour, the 1930s style elevator with arabesque decorative swirls on its mirror fronted walls, the exquisite stained glass windows that hang over bannisters, the droopy chandeliers of Municipal House are the result of a multimillion dollar restoration effort and a treat for art-deco lovers. My host, Vera Tumova, told me that until a couple of years ago, the communists used this architectural and decorative marvel as a mess to feed school children like her. Indeed, Municipal House is a shi-shi kind of place now where the two restaurants cater not to the proletariat but to the burgeosie of the moneyed kind.

The old Soviet style communists are hated with a vengeance in Prague. No Prazen has ever forgotten the brutal repression of the "Prague Spring" of 1968, (an attempt to provide "socialism with a human face") that was quashed by Soviet tanks. It was only in 1990, after widespread protests and strikes by the Czechs that communism finally folded up. The Czechs have a prickly pride that makes them bristle at references to their reputation of having been a Soviet satellite for over two decades. There are many things that Czechs resent about the decades under communism - bureaucratic excesses, dumpy Skoda cars (the Czech equivalent of the moribund East German Trabant), the massive stadia constructed all over Prague in which communist rallies were held extolling party leaders, the forced study of the Russian language in schools, the clunky underground metro cars churned out by Soviet factories and, most of all, the oppression of the intellegentsia. There is, of course, the well known case of Vaclav Havel, dissident playwright and philosopher whose legendary struggles against what he perceived as the moral repression of communism, have today made him not just the leader of his peoples, but the conscience of the world. If anything positive has emerged from the long years under communism, it is the prevailing ideal of egalitarianism. Unlike India, with its myriad hierarchies based on caste and class, the Czech Republic has an enviable equality. This is a place where President Vaclav Havel mingles with ordinary citizens, still frequents cafes of his youth and lives simply with his wife in a villa without security. And yet there is a flip side to all this. Slovakians incensed at being treated as second class citizens by the Czechs chose to secede in the Velvet Divorce of 1993.

The Czechs, like Indians, are a truly hospitable people. The Tumovas recalled for me all the warmth and affection Indians usually lavish on their guests Papa Tumova spoke no English beyond 'Hello', 'Goodnight'. Mama Tumova (and I was calling them Mama and Papa at the end of my sojourn), talked to me in halting English with much help from a Czech-English dictionary and their daughter, who spoke fluent English. Mama Tumova knew two words very well, with which she often hectored me: "Eat" and "Drink".

Vegetarians beware. The Czech culinary dictionary does not know that word. Thanks to my generous hosts, I had a little of everything Czech from the ubiquitous masa (meat), to potato dumplings, red cabbage stew, cheeses and all manner of breads. One of my most fascinating experiences was going to a restaurant where none of the waiters smiled or even seemed remotely interested in what the customer was ordering. The Tumovas helpfully explained that this had nothing to do with xenophobia, but that most waiters used to dour service in communist times did not see any reason to change their behaviour to suit a new system.

Indians are somewhat of a novelty in Prague used as Prazans are to loud, hordes of American students. One evening, I stumbled on the renowned "Literary Cafe" that lies hidden away in an alley behind the Prague Castle complex. This is a student hangout which essentially means plentiful food at cheap prices and lots of conversation. I got talking to some philosophy students from Charles University who quizzed me over several plates of stinky Moravian cheese and pitchers of the Czech national drink pivo (beer for the Czech challenged) about Tagore, Hinduism and the concept of Karma.

Prices are rather steep in Prague and, if truth be told, few Prazens can afford several luxuries they took for granted before the switch to capitalism. One tends to shell out quite a bit on the daily admission fees to Czech monuments, castles and museums.

It does not help that foreigners often have to pay higher admission fees than Czechs. Average meals generally work out to Rs. 300 a person, unless you stint and pick up something at the grocery stores. Boarding and lodging too are horrendously expensive, unless you know someone in Prague to live with or choose to live in a basic room courtesy the railway platform ladies. The only silver lining is the excellent and cheap public transportation system from trams and buses to the underground metro. And for those inclined to work up some sweat, the cobbled pathways of Prague are fun to amble through on those trusty deux pieds.

Foreigners need to register with Czech authorities within three days of arrival in Prague. The four-hour wait I had to endure at an obscure police station to get a routine two inch endorsement made me very nostalgic for India's (in) famous red tapism!

Prague with its soaring spired skyline, gentle people and romantic bridges is a must see. And, if you are not into its art- deco/ Baroque/ medieval architectural melange, do not worry. There is always the beer.

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