Prague: not a cultural experience

I have to admit that the title came from Marie, and not us. The problem was not Prague lacking culture, it's practically dripping with it, but rather the way in which we experienced Prague that may have been less edifying than it might have been.

We were really there as tag-alongs with Marie. Four years ago she took a month-long course in Barcelona to teach English as a foreign language, and she and three of her classmates were having a reunion in Prague at the end of July. (They had another reunion two years ago in Beijing, and the next one is planned for Montreal in 2009.)

But it wasn't just Marie, her three friends, and us. Here's the rundown of our travelling companions: Vicki, English, around 30, living in Barcelona; Joanna, also English and around 30, living in the UK; Robin, American, around 45, been living in Beijing for the past 20 or so years; Addy, from Hong Kong, around 35, Robin's boyfriend; Harvey, 8, originally from the Philippines but adopted son of Robin living in Beijing; and Nick, 18, from North Carolina, Robin's nephew (and who he introduced to us as his niece). And of course the three of us.

And so everywhere we went we were 9 people, continually doing headchecks and trying to negotiate large tables at cafés. And we were a loud and boisterous group of 9, not exactly blending in smoothly. Here's a picture of our motley crew, less Jeremi:
From left foreground, moving clockwise, that is Nick, Marie, Addy, Harvey, me, Vicki, Robin, and Joanna.

We took the train to Prague Wednesday night after work, and got in fairly late. Jeremi and I were supposed to be staying at some sort of apartment, as there was no room left at the hotel where the others were booked. From the train station we went there but it was really an apartment building, with no check-in or anything like it. (This was a bit of a mistake on our parts - we were supposed to go to another office to pick up the keys.) After a phone call to the emergency contact number of the booking agency we found out that (a) we had to go pick up our keys somewhere else and (b) the place we booked was occupied, but there was another apartment for us only a block away from where Marie and the others were staying. Though it meant a lot of walking around town after midnight, it did really work out well for us in the end. We had a huge 2 bedroom apartment, complete with a full kitchen (even a North American-sized fridge!), an eating area, a living room, and a TV with a few channels. It was perfect, and cheaper than the hotel. We didn't take any pictures of the apartment from the inside, but here's a view from the street.

Thursday we spent walking around the old city, seeing some of the sites, such as the famous Karlov bridge. We ate and drank well of course, partaking in much of the famous Czech beer and their tasty meat-centred traditional dishes. Among the sites we saw was the astronomical clock on one of the churches in the old city square:
and this crazy statue of upside-down trees by the river:
And a nice view of the castle from the old bridge:
Friday was our day of actual cultural experiences. We took a bus an hour northwest of the city (almost a third of the way back home, actually), to the town of Terezin, or Theresienstadt as it's called in German. This is an old fortified city that was designated a Jewish ghetto by the Nazis during the war. Jews (and people married to Jews or designated Jews for whatever reason) were shipped there from all over Europe, and held before being moved onto labour or death camps. Naturally many people died there, often from disease brought on by malnutrition, overcrowding, and poor sanitation. Something like 145 000 people were brought to Theresienstadt during the war, 33 000 of them died there, and only 17 000 were left when the Soviets liberated it. It was a difficult place to visit, and I found it incredibly upsetting. I can't believe that people still live in such a place. (The last non-Jewish residents were forced out in the early 1940s, but people moved back after 1948, when the Soviets stopped using it as an internment camp for ethnic Germans.) What it made me realize is that I should never go to Auschwitz, no matter how good an idea it seems at the time. We didn't really take any pictures here.

After returning to Prague Friday evening we went out for supper to a restaurant where there just happened to be a drag show that evening. After some consultation we decided to stay for it. For Marie and Jeremi it was their first time at a drag show, and it was fabulous. The people at the bar had no problem with Harvey staying as well as long as his dad didn't mind, so everyone got to enjoy it. And enjoy it we did, singing along and dancing on benches as the night wore on. Here's one of the lovely ladies:
and Marie and I whispering secrets to each other...
and Addy and Vicki singing along for all they're worth...
and Marie up on the bench, singing, and holding up someone's lighter...
Ah yes, good times were had by all.

Saturday was somewhat slower after a night like that, and Jeremi and I only met up with the rest of the group for supper. I also only stayed out until 1:00 or so on Saturday night, while Jeremi, Joanna, Vicki, Nick, and Marie stayed out until around 5:00 at a neighbourhood bar where people kept trying to sell us drugs.

Sunday morning the others weren't really up before lunch, so Jeremi and I took the opportunity to visit an old fort only about 5 minutes from where we were staying. Inside there was a gothic cathedral with really beautiful mosaics on its doors, as well as the national cemetary, which is filled with writers, poets, musicians, and artists.
We also found it really funny that all along the outer sides of the walls of the fort they'd built clay tennis courts, and there was a tennis club just outside the ancient fort's walls. Here's a view from the top of one of the walls:
On Sunday our big group outing (before leaving on the train in the afternoon) was to the Museum of Communism. This museum was located in the same building as a casino next to a McDonalds, so you might be able to guess that they weren't looking back fondly at the good old days. In fact, the level of pro-capitalist propaganda was really quite amazing. Still it was interesting thing to see, and they had a really fabulous sign:
as well as great old statues of Carl and Lenny (Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin):

Sunday we headed back on the train, and we'd made reservations as the train is often busy on Sundays. When we got to our seats we found that we were three out of a group of four (two pairs of chairs facing each other), but that the fourth seat was taken up by a man who was sleeping very heavily. He'd also left some of his things on one of our seats, so we were trying to gently wake him up so that he could move them. But there was no waking this guy up. We tried talking and even gently shaking him, but there's only so much we felt comfortable doing to a complete stranger who was much older than us (around 60) and with whom we may or may not share a language.

And so instead we moved his things to the floor and Jeremi climbed in carefully to the place beside him where his legs barely fit, while Marie and I were sobbing with laughter.Once back at home we needed a couple days to take it easy (while I was working, of course), so Marie and the cat chilled out and studied German while drinking sangria.