Day 12: Prague

Highlights:

• Petrinkske Sady
• Alfons Mucha museum
• Watching the Czech Grant National whilst drinking Kozel Cerny in Riegrovy Sady's beergarden

Did I mention that I really love Prague? I think I could move here. I've already set myself a few weekend routines, which I repeated today. A walk up into Letenske Sady to look over the city. It was all sun and blue skies today, and so it looked better than ever. Being the weekend, it had gotten a little busier and so my calm was slightly distracted by this Japanese guy, agonisingly slowly putting up his tripod. I then headed to my regular cafe, Kaficko, though shook it up a little by having Mexican coffee beans and plumb cake. Just as good. I perused a book about Prague Architecture, though learnt absolutely nothing to pass on, other than that it's varied.

In the Kafka museum, I'd come across some postcards by Mucha, who's apparently another local hero with a museum in town so was planning on heading there next, but it was too nice a day to be inside, so I went to the other sady that the rain had stopped me from climbing, and went up. This was Petrinkske Sady, and it was lovely. It's probably higher than Letenske, and I was getting seriously out of breathe as I climbed (though there is a rail to take you up if you can't walk), but the top offered a great view. Some cities can look a bit rubbish from up high, when the rooftops are just grey and covered with ugly vents. Prague though, with it's cream, pale green and beige buildings and bright red roof tops looks great. Letenske is still my favourite place in the entire world (no exaggeration), but Petrinske is pretty special. I'm looking forward to going back to Paris to see what it's like out of peak tourist season, but at the moment, I'd say Prague is a much more romantic city. Either going up in to the hills, or walking down the quiet streets, it's got a greater sense of calm and contentness (is that a word?) than Paris. No wonder Siemen proposed to my friend Marthe here.

So I slowly wandered down into town. It's a park, though it feels more like a forest, and the paths weave between tall trees so it does feel like a bit of a nature trail. I passed a policeman on a Segway (monitoring park crime obviously) and then as I reached town, I heard some acoustic music coming from a youth club. They'd opened the side door as it was obviously too hot, and I saw lots of young kids with down syndrome dancing around to the music. The music sounded Czech and there was lots of laughter coming from the room, so I stopped and listened for a while. I think they noticed me, as after the song finished, they pointedly closed the door.

Then I saw a group of brown-cloaked monks. There's just always something different going on here. In another park later, I saw an old lady teaching people how to throw javellins, and on my walk to Letenske in the morning, I walked through a Maltby Street-style busy market in a huge warehouse, with a Czech recording (it sounded like some sort of political maniuplation broadcast) overhead.

I tried to find the Kafka cafe again, and realised I'd made a mistake in the location yesterday. It was near the awful tourist bit (I'd advise never going to Karlovy Lazne), but literally the next street along from the overwhelmingly busy tourist crowds was completely quiet, and that's where I found the cafe (Literání Kavárna on Řetězová) . I think the international use of the word cafe generally means bar, so it didn't open until the evening. They were setting up some music for the evening, so I imagine it's a cool place, but I didn't have time to go back.

I weaved through the new town with my 'avoid crowds' guiding rule, and found the Mucha museum on Panska. So you'd all probably recognise Alfons Mucha's (pronounced mookha, apparently) work (here). He was a big dog in the Art Nouveau world, and made his name in Paris drawing posters for theatre productions. He was 24 I think when a 'famous' (I'd never heard of her) Parisian actress called Sarah Bernhardt had asked him last minute to design a poster for her production of Gismonda. She loved it, and gave him a six year contract the next day. The exhibition was quite impressive; as graphic design posters are now more commonly computer-generated, it was cool to see completely accurate drawings on such a large scale. His idea for all his work was to make a pattern which could be repeated, whilst incorporating a key figure in the middle (usually a woman). It was 120kc, so 4pounds, and the video they showed of his life, and his later work for Czechoslovakia (he designed bank notes and stamps for the country when it was established post-war) made it worth the money.

I was in the centre of Prague at this point, and wanted to explore the east so headed to the Riegrovy Sady. Again, it rose onto a hill, so there were beautiful views of Prague, and I passed the javellin throwers to find the beergarden on top. I asked for a beer ("Prosim, Kozel. Djekuji") and sat watching the Czech Grand National. In Germany and Czech Republic it seems to be legal to drink on the streets, but I've definitely noticed a lot more drunks around in the middle of the day than you see in London. A few were in the beer garden, enthusiastically screaming/singing at the horses. I imagine it's cool in summer when it's packed, but I didn't stay too long as a man wearing a black and white checked fedora (no, really) was winding up his two dogs and it was a bit noisy. I was in Zizkov in the East of Prague by this point, which I'd seen described as grungy, and I know I'd live in that part of town if I moved here. To sum up Prague, I'd say it's got the architectural beauty of Paris, but with the edge of Berlin. Best of both.

I found a pub called U Sadu on Skroupovo nam, and after apparently insulting the waitress when I tried to order my drink at the bar ("SIT DOWN"), I ordered a Lambrusco, and warily looked at the five meaty dishes on the menu. After my bad start with the waitress, who slammed my drink down, I was trying to work out the politest way of saying that whilst I respected their meat-eating culture of liver and goose, I was vegetarian, I saw a longer menu being passed around. I had some marinated vegetables and ordered another drink in Czech, to try smooth over my relationship with the waitress ("Jesto jedno"). The pub was cool; it had all this communist memorabilia everywhere, and there were lots of Czechs inside, so I presumed it was a local. The waitress and I parted on friendly terms (success!) and on getting lost trying to find the station, I decided to illegally jump on a tram and headed back to my hostel.

I spent the evening in the bar chatting to a Kiwi called Judy, a Japanese lady called Miho (who I suspect smuggles drugs by some of her stories), an Aussie living in London called Miran and a Malaysian called Ron Keo who now lived in Minnesota.

End of day 12.