Wanderings

This is a picture of the Vltava (Moldau) River, that runs through Prague. It divides the Old City (Stare Mesto) and New City (Nove Mesto) from the Small Side (Mala Strana) and Castle Hill (Hradcany). Prague was actually 4 separate cities until, hmm, 'round about the 18th century.

When I stood at the riverbank yesterday, it was a cold, foggy morning. There's a weir of some kind running across the river, and I could see several little fishing boats gathered above it, each with a solitary figure hunched over a rod.


The fog burned off by the afternoon, when I found myself wandering through Josefov, the Jewish Quarter. It was once surrounded by walls - both to protect the inhabitants and "protect" their Christian neighbours. For brief periods of time, Prague's Jews enjoyed relative freedom compared to communities in the rest of Europe. The period I study -- the reign of Rudolf II -- is often thought of as a golden age for the Jewish community there. This was the age of humanism, and Jewish scholars such as Rabbi Loew ("the Maharal") both contributed to their own theological tradition and engaged in dialogue with Christian humanists.

This shot is of the Jewish cemetery, the only place in Prague in which Jews could bury their dead until the 18th century. There are apparently 12 or 13 layers of graves, and the whole area contains thousands of bodies.

This once-thriving Jewish community all but vanished in the aftermath of Hitler's takeover. Today, the synagogues all function as museums, with precious relics and images of Jewish life in Prague at its best and worst over the centuries.

Here's a shot of Castle Hill with the Small Side below it. Charles Bridge, for a long time the only bridge across the Vltava, is visible just to the right. You can see that the most prominent building in the picture is the cathedral (St Vitus) that is located within the castle walls high up on the hill. In the period I'm interested in, only a single tower existed (the largest one you can see here). Even that looked different - it was topped with a Renaissance-style rounded dome, rather than the more serpentine Baroque cupolas that cap it now. The twin neo-Gothic towers are 19th-century additions.

I discovered Wallenstein (Waldstejn) Palace quite by accident. Wallenstein, a commander for Ferdinand II during the 30 Years War, apparently built it to rival the imperial castle. His palace is smack-dab in the sightline of the main rooms in the imperial castle. He seems to have engaged in a little backroom dealing with the other side, though, and Ferdinand II had him assassinated about a year after the palace was built.

The garden has been restored to its Baroque splendour. There's a multitude of hedges, a grotto, and an aviary. This fountain is particularly beautiful. It's actually a reproduction -- in the early (?) 20th century, a number of sculptures that had adorned the garden were recast after the originals, which are now in Sweden ,having been hauled away by unscrupulous Swedes when they sacked Prague in 1648. I was pleased that the-powers-that-were chose to respect the original composition by copying the originals, rather than installing contemporary sculptures incongruous with the surroundings. You only need to look at the hideous rebuilding of the one building in Prague bombed during WWII (by a "stray" Allied bomb), the Emmaus Monastery, to see how awful ill-planned "modernizations" of old buildings can be. I'll have to post a picture some time. Just imagine a lot of concrete, combined with a '50s aesthetic. Now plop that onto a medieval monastery.

When I returned to the garden in the evening today, I was joined on my little stone bench by two little old ladies. They fed the ducks and giggled at their antics. Then, one of them addressed me rather authoratively in English, and informed me that I had really come to Prague at the wrong time of year. Autumn and winter were, she said, not appealing in any respect. Once I reassured her I'd be back in Spring, she cheered up. Turns out she teaches English, and has been to England no less than 25 times. She confessed to me (after telling me not to laugh) that she has an admirer in England. She also advised me to find a nice boy to show me the city, as it was a shame that I was seeing such beautiful things all on my own. I told her I'd consider it. When she left, she gave me her address and told me to write her so we could meet up. She also insisted on giving me her pen, as a memento. I'd like to say that all of this delightful conversation was carried out in Czech, but alas my new friend loved speaking in English. When I told her (in Czech) that I was learning Czech, she was most amused. I'm not sure what she was amused about, but it sort of seemed like she thought it was a hare-brained idea.

Here's a shot of the view through/from the garden. The round dome just visible above the arch is Sv. Mikulase (St Nicholas Church), a massive Baroque church in the Mala Strana. It's too late for my period, so I'm not interested in it. I am an incurious person and my interest in history ends around 1630. I can also see Turkey from my house.