Sandie felt poorly the entire time we were in Prague and was mostly confined to our hotel room, unable to manage the excursions, which involved a lot of walking. So for our final afternoon, I arranged for us to be taken on a two-hour motor tour. It was a bit pricey at 250 euros, but it was the only way Sandie would be able to see a bit of Prague, and I didn’t want her to miss out completely on one of the grandest and most memorable cities I’ve ever seen.
The tour outfit I booked with uses replicars for their excursions. These are replicas of vintage Mercedes-Benz, Alfa-Romeo and other classic automobiles that look like exact duplicates of the originals, but are equipped with modern engines and drive trains. Our vehicle turned out to be a copy of a 1947 Alfa-Romeo. It was completely open to the sky and the weather was sunny and warm. The driver (sadly, I’ve forgotten his name) was a jovial twenty-something fellow who spoke fluent idiomatic English (it seems that nearly everyone speaks English in Prague) and knew the city well. He appeared to have a standard itinerary but was also quite flexible and willing to entertain special requests about places to visit. He took us to some attractions that I had already seen, but Sandie hadn’t, and I wanted her to see them; but he also took us to places I hadn’t yet been on the Gate1 walking tours, which made for a rich experience for us both.
Our driver picked us up at our hotel and drove up Na Poříčí Street to Republic Square. I had seen plenty of Republic Square already, since it was near our hotel, but I was able to appreciate its sights better with the help of the driver’s comments, and we were able to add some new photos to those I had taken already.
Republic Square is the site of a number of significant attractions. The most prominent is the Powder Tower (Prašná brána), which was actually one of the original city gates of the Old Town. Its construction began in 1475, in the reign of Vladislav II (r. 1471-1516). At that time it was called simply the New Tower. In the 17th century it was used to store gunpowder, hence the current name. Coronation processions for Czech kings traditionally began at the Powder Tower and ended at Prague Castle.
Also on Republic Square is the Palladium Department Store, actually a huge indoor shopping mall, which I had explored a bit the day before. Prior to the 1990s it had been the Josef Army Barracks building. It was repurposed, rebuilt and opened as a shopping mall in 2007, and now contains 170 shops and 30 restaurants, as well as a considerable amount of office space.
Unfortunately, I unaccountably failed to notice that the Kotva Department Store, one of the examples of Brutalist architecture modeled in Holubička Park, which I had seen in Malá Strana earlier that day, is located across the street from the Palladium, so I don’t have a photo of the actual building, only the model in Holubička Park. I did get a photo of the headquarters of the Czech National Bank (Česká národní banka, abbreviated ČNB), also found on Republic Square.
Next to the Powder Tower, just to its north, stands Municipal House (Obecní dům), a splendid structure built in the Art Nouveau style in the early 20th century. It occupies the site of a vanished royal palace, where the Kings of Bohemia lived until 1485, when they moved to the Prague Castle. It was the site of the Czech Declaration of Independence in 1918. The building houses Smetana Hall, a major concert venue, as well as a ballroom, civic facilities, a café and a French restaurant. It is also adorned both inside and outside with outstanding artworks, including a mosaic called Homage to Prague over the entrance and allegorical sculpture groups on either side. Unfortunately our photos don’t do justice to these, so I’ll refer the reader to the pictures on the Municipal House website.
Prague is a veritable treasure-house of Art Nouveau, which was a great pleasure for me since it’s one of my favorite styles. From Republic Square we drove to Wenceslaus Square, and on the way we passed the Prague Main Railway Station, first built in 1871 in the Neo-Renaissance style bearing the name of Emperor Franz Josef. By the end of the 19th century it was sorely in need of expansion, so it was rebuilt in 1901-1909 in Art Nouveau style according to a design by architect Josef Fanta, and extensively decorated with statues and other works featuring Art Nouveau motifs.
Wenceslaus Square (Václavské náměstí) is named after Václav I (907-935), the patron saint of Bohemia and the subject of the Christmas Carol “Good King Wenceslaus.” He was Duke of Bohemia (which did not officially become a kingdom until 1198) from 921 to 935, and was later canonized for his good works and his martyrdom at the hands of his brother Boleslav in 935. I don’t know how the Czech name Václav became Latinized to Wenceslaus, which sounds ridiculous to me, but the square was established in 1348, during the reign of Charles IV, as a market for trading horses, so its original name was the Horse Market. It was renamed St. Wenceslaus Square in 1848. It is a very large square, 750 meters (2460 feet) long by up to 63 meters (207 feet) wide, and has been the scene of a number of key events in Czech history, most notably demonstrations against the Soviet invasion of 1968 and the inception of the Velvet Revolution of 1989.
Near Wenceslaus Square, though not actually on it, is the Prague State Opera House, originally opened in 1888 as the New German Theater, created in response to a desire for the German community in Prague for a theater of its own. Since 1992 it has been part of the National Theater of the Czech Republic, in association with the other main Prague opera house, the National Theater (Národní divadlo) located on the east bank of the Vltava River. With its magnificent auditorium and elaborate neo-rococo décor, it is considered one of the great opera houses of the world.
At the east end of Wenceslaus Square is the main building of the Czech National Museum. Established in 1818, the Museum was initially located in the palace of its founder, Count Kaspar von Sternberg, but was moved to its present location in 1891, when the building was completed. At first the focus of the museum was on natural sciences, since its founder was a botanist, mineralogist and phytopaleontologist (phytopaleontology is the branch of paleontology concerned with ancient plants). Later, however, in the 1830s and 1840s, the museum began to acquire historical and cultural objects, a reflection of the Romantic movement, which emphasized the importance of historical influences; and it became instrumental in the 19th-century revival of Czech language and culture and the ensuing growth of Czech nationalism.
The main building on Wenceslaus Square was built between 1885 and 1891 by the Czech neo-renaissance architect Josef Schulz. It was damaged by a bomb in World War II, but the collections had been moved to secure locations, so they were not harmed. However, in 1968 when the Soviet troops fired on the demonstrators in Wenceslaus Square, the museum façade was damaged by machine-gun bullets. Although repairs were made, it is said that the marks made by the bullets can still be seen, although I didn’t get close enough to notice any myself.
An equestrian statue of St. Wenceslaus created in 1912 by Josef Václav Myslbek stands in the square in front of the museum’s main building.
From Wenceslaus Square our driver took us to Charles Square, where the New Town Hall (Novoměstská radnice) is located. The oldest part of the building, the eastern wing, was built between 1377 and 1398 in Gothic style. A south wing was added after 1411. The salient feature of the hall, the tower, was built later, between 1452 and 1456. Although it is newer than the Old Town Hall, the New Town Hall was the scene of the First Prague Defenestration in 1419, which initiated the Hussite Wars. In the 16th century, modifications were made in the Renaissance style, and the western and northern wings were added. The New Town Hall served as an administrative center until 1784, when the reforms of Emperor Josef II concentrated all municipal administrative functions in the Old Town Hall. Afterward it housed the main criminal court and a prison.
Charles Square, as one might guess, was founded by Emperor Charles IV, who intended it to be the main square of the New Town of Prague. It was the largest town square of medieval Europe and is still one of the largest city squares in the world. But it was originally called the Cattle Market and was only named after its founder in 1848. The central part of Charles Square has been turned into a park, similar to Central Park in New York.
Not far from Charles Square we drove by the Quadrio shopping mall, where we saw the Head of Franz Kafka. This is a bizarre sculpture by David Cerny, 10.6 meters (35 feet) tall, depicting the head of…someone – I can’t say that I would recognize it as Franz Kafka. Anyway, the head is composed of 42 stainless steel panels which are mechanized and rotate individually, causing the head to deform and reform itself. It’s a controversial but intriguing piece and helps to maintain Prague’s reputation as a center of avant-garde art.
Our next stop was no less contentious — the Dancing House (Tančící dům) on the Rašínovo Embankment near Jiráskovo Bridge. Built on the site of an apartment house destroyed by American bombing in 1945, it was financed by a Dutch insurance company, which bought the land in 1992 and hired the Czech-Croatian architect Vlado Milunić and the Canadian-American architect Frank Gehry to design the building. The architects were given carte blanche, and the result was a structure consisting of two towers, one of glass, the other of concrete. The glass tower narrows in the middle and is supported by curved pillars; the concrete tower is straight, but features wavy moldings and out-of-alignment windows. The towers have been nicknamed Ginger and Fred, after the American dancers Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire – Ginger represented by the glass tower and Fred by the concrete tower. The Czech-British architect Eva Jiřičná designed most of the interior of the building, which has has nine floors, with two underground. The building contains a hotel, an art gallery and a restaurant, named “Ginger and Fred,” of course. Although the Dancing House has won several awards, including a Time Magazine design prize in 1997, it has been heavily criticized as being inappropriate and outlandish in a city where most of the architecture is Gothic, Baroque, or Art Nouveau.
Next we crossed Jiráskovo Bridge and headed up to Prague Castle for a brief stop near the Powder Bridge entrance, where our tour bus had brought us the day before. The castle grounds are closed to motor traffic, so Sandie wasn’t able to see all the sights I had seen that morning, but at least she was able to get some idea of the scale and grandeur of the place.
From the Castle we continued on to the top of Petřín Hill, arriving at the colossal Great Strahov Stadium, which claims to be the world’s largest. It was not, as one might expect, a product of the Communist era but was built before World War II with the special purpose of showcasing displays of synchronized swimming. It has a capacity of 250,000, but is no longer used for competitive sports events. Instead it serves as a training ground by the Sparta Prague professional football team, and as a venue for rock concerts.
On the way up to the stadium I spotted and photographed an apparently very decrepit house on the hillside which was plastered with graffiti and looked abandoned. It appeared to have a “Hotel” sign but I’m not sure whether this was actually associated with the house or on another building above it on the hill. I haven’t able to find out any information about it, so I’ve chosen to call it the Strahov Haunted House.
We stopped for a while at Strahov Stadium to take a break, shoot some pictures and stretch our legs. The stadium is poorly maintained and rather decrepit, but the views of Prague from the hilltop are superb. Also it turned out that there is a motor vehicle tunnel running under the stadium, called the Strahov Tunnel, for which ventilation is provided by two immense towers standing next to the stadium. The control room for the tunnel and its towers is also located on the hill nearby. In fact, the hills of Prague appear to be honeycombed with vehicular tunnels and one wonders how they manage to keep the city from caving in on itself.
As we headed back down the hill to our next stop, we spotted a large tractor by the side of the road, upended with its front wheels sticking up in the air, and painted a flamboyant shade of pink. It turned out to be another David Cerny piece, the Monument to Visací Zámek. Visací zámek means padlock in Czech, and indeed one of the front wheels had been fashioned into the shape of a padlock. Visací zámek is the name of a Czech punk rock band founded in 1982, before the fall of Communism; it was highly influential in the opposition movement that led to the fall of the Husak regime in 1989. It has remained active in the years since then, and the monument was erected in 2022 to commemorate its 40th anniversary.
Returning through the Hradčany (Castle) district, we stopped at Loreta Square, where the Loreta Monastery pilgrimage site is located. The monastery was founded in 1626, but the present Baroque building with its imposing clock tower, designed by the famous father-son team of Christoph and Kilian Ignaz Dientzenhofer, dates from the early 18th century. The tower has a famous chime which consists of 30 bells and has been operating since 1695.
Across the square from the monastery we saw the Czernin Palace, largest of the Baroque palaces of Prague, built in the 1660s for the wealthy aristocrat Humprecht Jan Czernin, the Habsburg ambassador to Venice and Rome. Since the 1930s it has served as headquarters of the Czech Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
A little farther on, on Loreta Street closer to Hradcany Square, we came across a rather stark Romanesque building painted in kind of a peachy shade of yellow. This was built in the early 18th century as a residence for the ambassador of the Vatican. In the 19th century it served as a military hospital. Nowadays it serves as the barracks of the Prague Castle Guard (Hradní stráž), a special autonomous unit of the military forces whose main task is to guard and defend the seat of the President of the Czech Republic at Prague Castle. I found the site interesting mainly because of the eight-armed cast-iron gas lamppost with sculptural decoration that stands on a stone plinth in front of the building. It was one of sixteen such gas lampposts installed in the mid-19th century. At that time hundreds of less elaborate four-armed, three-armed and one-armed lampposts installed throughout the city, but they went away after the advent of electric lighting; now only three survive, two of them eight-armed and one with four arms. (The other eight-armed lamppost stands in nearby Hradcany Square, but somehow I had missed it when I was there the day before.) The eight-armed models were cast in 1867 or 1868 in the Komárovské ironworks, are 8.5 meters (feet) tall and weigh 5 tons. From the base of the lamppost, on the stone plinth, rises a column surrounded by four female figures in antique clothing; above them the eight baroque arms with lamps radiate out from the column, which rises to a height of several more feet and has an allegorical figure of Prague at the top.
From the Castle Guard Barracks we drove up to the Military Church of St. John of Nepomuk, another Dientzenhofer masterpiece. It was built in 1729 to serve a convent of the Ursuline Order of Catholic Nuns, but the religious reforms of Joseph II shut the church down in 1784, and it was handed over to the military, which used it as a salt warehouse. But in 1861 it was reopened as a church, serving the military garrison of Prague. In 2002 it was opened to the public. Statues by the Baroque sculptor Matthias Wenzel Jäckel adorn the façade, and the interior is decorated with frescoes by Wenzel Lorenz Reiner illustrating the life of St. John of Nepomuk.
Descending the hill into Malá Strana, we were able to see some of the locations which I had visited there in the morning, as well as a few that were new to me. Sandie had to miss the Wallenstein Palace and Gardens, which are open only to pedestrians, but she was able to enjoy Malá Strana Square with its exquisite St. Nicholas Church, the supreme achievement of the Dientzenhofer father-son architect team. I was able to correct an oversight by photographing the Holy Trinity Column on the west side of the church, which I had missed that morning. It is another example of a pestsäule or plague column, erected in 1715 in gratitude for averting the plague epidemic of 1713. The column is simpler and to my mind more attractive than many of the others I had seen. It sits on a stepped plinth surrounded by a balustrade with putti and vases. On the plinth are statues of the Virgin Mary and several of the Czech saints; above them is a representation of the Trinity, and on top is a three-sided obelisk with a symbol of the Eye of God at the apex.
Of course we dropped by the Knights of Malta Commandery, the Church under the Chain, and the Lennon Wall, so Sandie would have a chance to see them. But one attraction I would never have been aware of had the driver not brought it to my attention was the street known in Czech as the Vinárna Čertovka, and in English as the Narrowest Street in Prague. This is easy to miss because at first sight it appears to be no more than a tiny space between two buildings. But it is officially a street, though limited of course to pedestrian traffic, and so narrow that it can accommodate only one person at a time, so that traffic lights are needed to control access and ensure that people do not collide with one another.
Not more than a block away from the Narrowest Street we found the Franz Kafka Museum, which I had also not seen earlier. Dedicated to the life and work of the famous writer, it features copies of first editions of Kafka’s works and some of his correspondence. Two permanent exhibitions are focused on exploring the role of Prague in his work, which is enigmatic because he never identified the places he described in his writings, though various locations in the city are unmistakably present in the background. The designers of the museum strove to create a place in keeping with the dark and surreal atmosphere of Kafka’s works, so they created exhibits that are often outlandish and bizarre – sometimes even “goofy,” according to one reviewer – such as open file cabinets, piles of coal, even a torture machine from his Penal Colony story. I must confess that I have never properly appreciated Kafka’s works, having read only one of them, The Metamorphosis, which I was assigned to read in a college history class, and which I found repellent. (Somebody wakes up one morning to find that he has turned into a giant cockroach overnight, and nobody even wonders why?) I also started reading The Trial but found it so dreary and boring that I could not get very far in it. But I regret not having had a chance to tour the museum – we only had time to view it briefly from the street – especially because I missed the famous David Cerny statue in the courtyard of two men peeing into a pool. It is only partially visible in my photograph, and I didn’t notice it at the time I shot the picture. However, you can see a good picture of the sculpture on Wikipedia.
We did manage to see and photograph the surrealist statue of Franz Kafka by Jaroslav Róna which stands in the Jewish Quarter. It depicts Kafka riding on the shoulders of a headless (and handless) figure, an allusion to his short story “Description of a Struggle,” published in 1912.
We concluded our motor tour with drive-bys of some of the other essential Prague landmarks, such as the Rudolfinum concert hall and the National Theater (Národní divadlo) opera house. We also had our driver take pictures of us seated in the Alfa-Romeo on the riverbank near Manes Bridge, with Strakov Academy on the opposite bank of the Vltava as a backdrop.
Although in two days I had managed only to scratch the surface of all there is to see and do in Prague, and I was sad that Sandie didn’t get to see more of the city, I was nevertheless elated that I had finally managed to set foot in a place I had yearned to visit for so many years, a city of endless sights and spectacles and a monument to the immemorial human striving for liberty and enlightenment.