Goodbye Poland, Hello Czechoslovakia. There was a big crush at the border as Czechs and Rumanians leaving Poland had their cars thoroughly searched for Polish contraband. I'm not sure why, but I think that Poland is so cheap, even in relation to other East European countries, that people come in to buy up big and resell later in their own country at a fat profit. The border guards were dragging out radios, televisions, even pairs of jeans from the cars' boots and luggage racks. Strangely, they left us alone. We were two Australians driving in a new (rented) French car; maybe they thought we wouldn't bother with Polish merchandise.
All we had to endure was the stern gaze of four different uniformed officials, one after the other... and then we were free to go. There was no compulsory exchange or prepaying of accommodation or any of the other nasty things we were warned about. They didn't even check if we were importing Czech currency.
Rollin' rollin' towards Brno. The difference with Poland is immediately apparent once the border is crossed. Czechoslovakia looks so ornate, aesthetic, and *green* compared with the harsh ascetic dustiness of Poland. And one thing really strikes you: all the old city buildings have the same burgundy brown colour. They must all procure their building materials from the same place.
The landscape and the neat little country houses along the way charmed our socks off. Betty said it reminded her of Bavaria. We stopped for some desperately needed petrol. What a relief it was to see no long queues! The attendant kept repeating the words "Talon, Talon" to me as she filled the tank. I smiled and shrugged, not understanding what she meant. It turned out she wanted me to pay with petrol coupons. Foreigners are only allowed to buy petrol using these (government controlled) coupons so that they can't snap up all the local juice using black market money. Unfortunately, no-one thought to tell us this at the border. Hmm...I couldn't really siphon the petrol out of the tank again... when no-one was looking I slipped her a few 'kcs' (the local currency) and it was ok. Her idea, not mine!
We reached Brno at 6:30. (Brno, Plzen, kcs,... the languages of the world should get together and donate some vowels to the needy Czechoslovakian language.) I didn't really see much of the city as I was concentrating on the maze of No-Right_Turn, No-Left-Turn, No-Entry signs sprinkled liberally through the cobblestoned streets. These old cities are charming to visit, but hell to drive through. After chasing our tail for a while (the buggers have changed the street names again!) we found a hotel, 'Ur Jakurby', near the town square. US$21 for a room. We chowed down on beer, pepsi, hors d'oeuvres, onion soup, chicken, and ice cream parfaits for the princely sum of 213 kcs (= $8). Burp. At least someone can reap the benefits of 45 years of communist rule. (Joke!)
The next morning we brokefast (eggs, bacon, fresh rolls and jam) and lazed around looking up Brno's delights in our trusty travel guide, 'Eastern Europe on a Shoestring'. Before setting off I had to change some money at the hotel (10kcs for 1DM; In Berlin it was 18:1) and buy some petrol coupons at the International Hotel. That done, we plunged into the sightseeing. Brno, like its name, is very small and compact, so we were able to walk everywhere. First stop was a flamboyant Plague Column in the town square. Whether it was built in memoriam to the victims, or in thanks that the plague passed the town by, is not clear to me. I took a photo and made a mental note to look it up later.
Next we went to Spilberk Castle which, like all damn castles, is a long walk up a hill. Spilberk served as the SS headquarters during the war, and its dungeons were used as torture chambers. The castle looked chillingly well-suited for this purpose. At the base is a memorial to the people who died there. After a hefty climb we walked through a stone archway with the faded nameplate:
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/
/ <------ (swastika)
/
/
Kaserne Spieleberg
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Words can't describe how creepy this made me feel. This, by the way, is the only (structural) swastika I have seen in Europe that has survived the war and its aftermath. All others, be they in Nuremberg, Berlin, Berchtesgaden, or Auschwitz, seem to have long been defaced or destroyed. And no wonder. But, although this may have seemed a good idea at the time, future historians (and tourists) will surely bewail it. Remnants of the Nazi period are part of Europe's heritage now, and I think they should be preserved.
Anyway, we soon moved on, as the castle was closed for repairs. Apparently it has been (and is expected to remain so) for many years. This is a sure sign that you are in the East!
Next we descended into the Capuchin Monastery. It seems the Capuchins were an order of monks obsessed with death and decay and other 'now' concepts. The cellar contains the mummified remains of about 30 people, all 200 to 300 years old. To cheer the place up they tacked some skulls and crossbones (in the classic 'pirate-flag' shape) on the foyer wall. And as a coup de grace, the monks suspended the world's most hideous chandelier from the foyer ceiling. It looks like a hulking brown spider, and is constructed from a mish-mash of half-skulls and human bones. What a crazy sense of humour these monks have! "Memento Mori," the grey skull on the chandelier whispered to me, "Sic Transit Gloria Mundi".
Just down the street from the monastery is Brno's Technological Museum, which we made our next stop. They were having a 'History of Bicycles' exhibition, but we passed it up for the famous slide show. It's on a large wooden stereoscopic viewing machine built 100 years ago. The colour slides are also from that era, and so we were treated to a 3-D tour of Bavaria, anno 1890 (they change the set of slides every week or so). I loved it.
Our final objective in Brno was a church where they allegedly strike 12 at 11 o'clock (for historical reasons), but it didn't live up to the guide book's promises. Oh well.
Time to leave Brno. We spent just under a day there, savouring the tangible delights of Eastern Europe. There were no hordes of foreign tourists, no desecrating neon signs, and few people who routinely dealt with foreigners. The city was ancient and interesting, and yet none of its landmarks were splashed across teatowels or postcards. We still had a chance to see the town as it basically would have looked 200 years ago. And on top of all that it was dirt cheap, allowing us to stay in inner city hotels and eat at restaurants on a modest budget. Who, as a tourist, needs the headaches and hassles of the West?
But enough reflection. We drove north-west to Prague, along excellent roads. The site of the Battle of Austerlitz (Napoleon's greatest victory) is just to the east of Brno, so unfortunately we missed it. I wasn't sure whether it was commemorated there or not anyway. On the road to 'Praha' Betty read out loud the relevant Pragian passages in the guide book. We let ourselves be spooked by its dire warnings of accommodation shortages and endless queues....so as soon as we arrived we set about finding some shelter. The first place we tried, a camping ground full of beer-keg-shaped cabins (crazy!) was full. Panic set in. At the next hotel, I walked in with a fistful of dollars, ready to do some serious bribing. But, no problem! They had plenty of room. The 'Shoestring' guide can often be a wee bit pessimistic. The cost of the room was 550 kcs, or US$35 at the official rate. Rather steep for the East. I softened the blow by paying with kcs purchased in Berlin at a favourable rate. The hotel ('Merkur') was close to the centre of town, so we drove in for a while. It's tough to find a parking spot, but eventually we grabbed one near the Jewish Cemetery, which was closed. We walked over the famous bridge (Karluv Most) humming 'Never tear us apart', did some filming, changed some money, and gawked at the Gothic clock. It features a tiny skeleton ringing a tiny bell. That definitely filled our skeleton quota for the day.
Prague is authentically old yet very well preserved, in contrast to the bombed-to-bits-but-lovingly-restored cities in nearby Germany and Poland. The city (and country) escaped destruction in World War II through the clever political manoeuvre of giving up without a fight. They may have looked a tad silly then, but they've still got their great old cities intact. Undoubtedly, this was a smart move; the cities will be enjoyed long after the humiliation of capitulation is forgotten.
We had dinner in town, topped off with some of that great Czech pivo (beer), and went to bed. We planned to see more of Prague tomorrow, and then head back to the West in the evening.
Up early the next day (Sunday) to send off some postcards from the Prague Post Office, which *never* closes. In all my travels, I have never seen such a beast. Is it unique? Then we headed back to the Jewish Cemetery, which this time was open. The local Jews were only allotted a small patch of land to bury their dead, and so they had to cram in as many stiffs as they could over a 300 year period (1400's to the 1700's). Inevitably some of the older graves gave way, and now the headstones stick out grotesquely at all angles, like spikes on an echidna's back. We omitted to take the guided tour, so I never found out which celebrities are buried there.
The building adjoining the cemetery is a monument to criminal insanity. The Nazi's chose it to house the 'Museum of an Extinct Race', which would commemorate the decadent culture of the Jewish people once their extermination was complete. Jewish artifacts and treasures confiscated during pogroms were sent here from all over eastern Europe, which effectively (and ironically!) saved them from destruction. The items on display didn't mean all that much to me (I think most of them have since been returned), but there was a chilling side display: children's drawings. These were made by Jewish kids interned in concentration camps, and show images of gallows, barbed wire fences, and mass executions, all drawn with an unsteady childish hand. The horror.
Re-emerging into the sunshine, we caught a rickety tram up to Prague Castle. We gawked around the large conglomeration of buildings, supported by a cast of thousands. One major feature is a huge gothic church, the St. Vitus Cathedral, where they hold a disco every Saturday night (harhar). One can also view the ramps down which knights rode towards royal jousts, and the window that featured in the 'defenestration' that started the 30 Year War. All very nice, but we were getting a bit tired of mediaeval castles, and the heat, and the crowds. There *was* a nice view of the city, though.
We caught a cab back to town and had lunch near Prague's Town Square, undoubtedly one of Europe's finest (*the* finest in Betty's opinion, but I prefer the one in Krakow). Lunch was a sit-down meal of grilled pork, chips, peas, ice cream and cake for US$3 a piece. Afterwards we sat back and watched the busy flow outside. Prague is not a bad place, but it is absolutely choked with tourists and all that accompanies them. I read somewhere that 90% of all visitors to Czechoslovakia see Prague only, which is a great shame. Towns like Brno have comparable architecture and sights, but seem far more relaxed and genuine. Every second person in the centre of Prague is yakking in (American-)English or German, and/or is asking you to change money. There were ice-cream stands set up in the streets, and horse rides for the kiddies. Long haired bohemians self-consciously roamed the squares, strumming the chords to 'Imagine' on acoustic guitars and trying to sell you pastels of Karluv Most. I found it all a bit tedious. This isn't the East anymore.. where were the empty squares, the huge statues, the military presence on the streets? The shop windows were attractively decorated and even the service in restaurants was quick and courteous! I wonder if Prague was already like this before they kicked the communists out.
We decided to get out early and head back to West Germany. We drove south-west and through Plzen, which looked very grotty. This is where Pilsener Beer was invented, hence the name. More lovely scenery, then some tank traps by the side of the road, and then we reached the border.
Czechoslovakia is a very pretty country. If we'd had more time, I would have liked to drive through the countryside and stop in small towns. I think Prague is quite overrated and has been somewhat corrupted by mass tourism; pass it up for something smaller. Few people spoke English (outside of Prague), but German was well understood. And the beer is great! As a holiday destination, it gets the collective thumbs-up.
paultje
paulbakker@hotmail.com
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Rec.Travel Library
The World
Europe
Czech Republic 1990
Also by this author:
Poland 1990
Moscow 1990
Cairns, Australia, 1991
North Korea 1995
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