Plzen, Czech Republic

We caught an early train out of Prague south to Plzen, and were fortunate enough to share our compartment with an adorable two-month-old puppy and his master.

Our first stop on arrival was the Pivovarské Museum, where we saw a display of artifacts relating to ancient brewing practices. It was mid-week, and we were the only visitors to the museum, so we got a private tour, which included a recreation of a late 19th century taproom, brewing tools, etc.

This got us in the right frame of mind for the real purpose of our trip, the Plzensky Prazdroje, or Pilsner Urquell brewery. The tour started with a short film, followed by a guided walk around the premises, including the fermentation tanks and cellars, but the highlight was the tasting of fresh Pilsner Urquell from a tap in the cellar. Absolutely delicious!

We had lunch at Na Spilce, the brewery's restaurant, then headed into the town square to do some shopping. Plzen really knows how to make an American like me feel welcome, as the whole town was decked out with U.S. flags on every lamppost, and streets and a bridge named after Roosevelt, Patton, and the whole U.S. Army. All this, of course, was in gratitude for Plzen's liberation 54 years earlier. (It's also worth noting that we were there the day before the anniversary of V-E Day, so maybe the flags aren't up all year round, but I bet they don't change the street signs.)

After shopping [here's a tip - everything is less expensive in Plzen than it is in Prague], we caught our train back to Prague.

Prague, Czech Republic

We stayed in Prague as guests of the Maršáks, friends of the Dvoraks' who now live in their (the Dvorak's) former apartment. Through the miracle of Soviet engineering, their apartment was a mirror image of the Vyšña's apartment in Poprad. We got a Prague orientation talk from Zdena Maršák, most of which boiled down to "look out for Gypsies," then dinner was served and we headed for bed.

Zdena escorted us the next morning to Hradcany and gave us more warnings about those nefarious Gypsies. Hradcany is the neighborhood around the Prague Castle, and it's crowded with both sights and tourists. The throng was thick, especially within the walls of the castle, and sometimes we were held immobile by the crush of the tour groups. At one point, I began holding our umbrella high overhead just to see if any bedazzled tourists would start following us. I wasn't sure what I'd do with them if they did, but maybe I could collect some tips.

We visited the Loreta church, chock full of precious ornamental art, including one piece with 6500 (so they say - we didn't count) diamonds. The Royal Gardens were, unfortunately for us, not yet in bloom, so we proceeded on to the Zlatá Ulicka (Golden Lane), a row of houses built into the wall of the castle. The houses are now occupied by vendors preying on tourists, but within the wall there is a passageway lined with displays of armor and weaponry of the middle ages, as well as a crossbow shooting range (5 bolts for 50 Kc). Lastly, we saw St. Vitus' Cathedral, a massive gothic church that took over 600 years to build.

For lunch, we stopped at the beer hall U Cerného Vola, apparently one of the few remaining places in Prague not trying to cater to western tourists. We sat at a long table with other patrons, and Hannah placed our orders after translating the menu for me. [We found out later from friends who visited on our recommendation that English menus are available.] Sausages and beer, in authentic surroundings, for a mere pittance. Yum.

After lunch, more walking around town took us across the Karluv Most (Charles Bridge). The bridge is lined with artists and performers, and we did a little souvenir shopping. Our last sight to see that day was the Václavský námestí, or Wenceslaus Square, famous for its role in the "Velvet Revolution." Aside from its historical significance, it is not as interesting as other parts of Prague, so we hopped a subway "home."

Once back at the Maršáks', we had a delicious home-cooked meal and watched some of the local television, including an American cop show broadcast in the original English, but narrated (not subtitled) in Polish. As far as we could tell, the narrator, in a golf-commentator whisper, was describing the dialogue for the non-English speaking audience. It was very entertaining.

Jilemnice, Czech Republic

Our drive to Jilemnice was uneventful but scenic. We were expecting a snag, or at least some reaction, from the border guard as we crossed from Slovakia into the Czech Republic and gave over our smorgasbord of passports (one Czech, one Slovak, one Canadian, one U.S.), but I guess when you become a border guard, nothing surprises you anymore.

We came to Jilemnice, a small town near the German border, to visit with Josef and Eva Vancl, Pavel's cousin and her husband. The language barrier was again a problem for me, but everyone made a great effort to keep me informed. Still, sometimes I just resigned myself to not understanding and went along for the ride (sometimes literally, sometimes figuratively). Pavel and I had both picked up a nasty case of the stomach flu, presumably back in Slovakia, and it hit us here. Fortunately, Pavel managed to get out and see some sights that day, but I spent a whole day in bed resting. The family visited some local farmers, and without me around, they were able to converse in Czech without having to pause for translations. That evening, I was still feeling ill, so the next-door neighbor, a doctor, was called, and he made a (Gasp!) house call. He checked me over, diagnosed stomach flu and dehydration, and made some prescriptions, which were filled at a local pharmacy.

The next day, I was feeling better, but still not up to major sightseeing. In the morning we drove out to Víchová nad Jizerou, Pavel's boyhood hometown. We visited his parents' graves and his former home, and we took a walk along the banks of the local stream, marveling at the lifestyle differences in such a small town. After that excursion I felt it was best if I returned to the Vancls' for more rest while everyone else carried on. While they drove around viewing the local countryside and took in a carillon concert at a local church, I was seated in front of the TV, watching "Amerikanishe Gladiatoren" and "Hawaii Funf-0" and other American shows dubbed into German. My favorite was "Raumschiff Enterprise: Die Nachste Jahrhundert" ("Star Trek: The Next Generation"). Klingons dubbed into German don't seem at all inappropriate.

Finally, a day came where I felt I could rejoin the fun. We visited Trosky Hrad, a fourteenth century castle built upon two pillars of basalt left behind by an eroded volcano. It's quite the setting, and the view from the castle was splendid. From there, we went to Hrubá Skála, a park with giant sandstone towers. Formerly a hideout for crusaders and highwaymen, it is now a rock climbing mecca.


Later that day, we said farewell to the Vancls and the Dvoraks and caught a train to Prague.

Poprad, Slovakia, part 2

Our last night in Slovakia coincided with Peter's birthday, so we were able to attend the celebration. The festivities began with the Canada-Slovakia World Cup hockey game and continued on into the night. I think I made a favorable impression by first cheering for the Slovak team, then drinking every vodka shot I was given, and finally attempting to speak what little Slovak I had picked up in the previous few days. Everyone seemed to be entertained by my efforts, or maybe it was just the vodka.

The following morning, we said goodbye to our kind hosts and drove off with Pavel and Antonia to Jilemnice, Czech Republic.

Svidnik, Slovakia

The town of Svidník is near where the battle of the Dukla Pass was fought in 1944. The countryside is dotted with tanks and artillery pieces, and even an Il-2 Sturmovik, left where they were disabled as a monument to the battle. They were all recently given fresh coats of paint and appear to be intact, although we learned that the tanks' engines were removed long ago to power local tractors. One of the tanks was left with its hatch welded open, so naturally, I had to have a look inside. That's me on the right, with cousin Zdenka in the foreground.

There was also a graveyard of the fallen Soviet soldiers, along with a huge memorial statue. During a walk in the nearby woods, we came upon a cleared swath and a sign reading "Warning: International Border!" I dashed across to pose for a photo, and thus was able to add Poland to the list of countries we visited.

We continued driving, and visited a couple of scenic small towns, the names of which escape me. (It seems unlikely that I'd be able to spell them correctly even if I did remember them.) We visited some medieval churches and strolled around the central squares of these small villages, then drove back to Poprad.