Prague regains its glow

Prague, Czech Republic

The setting was a picture postcard, with the lights of Charles Bridge reflecting on the Vltava River and ducks paddling by only feet from my waterfront table at Kampa Park restaurant. It was hard to imagine that this table had been underwater last August.

Earlier, checking into the little Hotel Certovka, just around the corner from Kampa Park in the Lesser Quarter, I had seen a photo of the hotel in which floodwaters reached midway up its front door. And on a boat trip through Prague’s “Venice,” along the stream separating Kampa Island and the Lesser Quarter, the captain had told us, “Last year these two parts were together under the water.”

What a difference a year makes.

When torrential rains last summer caused the worst flood in 500 years, the Vltava’s olive green water crested 26 feet above normal, to the tops of the Charles Bridge arches. Now sightseeing boats sail under those arches, and the bridge, which connects Old Town (Stare Mesto) and the Lesser or Little Quarter (Mala Strana), swarms with pedestrians.

Prague has mopped up and cleared away the debris. High water marks on buildings -- especially in the hard-hit Lesser Quarter -- and repairs still underway on water lines and sunken streets are reminders of the flood. But hotels and restaurants have reopened, and tourists have returned.

“Right after the flood, people were afraid to come,” Hana Kornecka, my guide, told me. “They thought there would be rats.”

In fact, the sewers in the Old Town did overflow, and during the flooding, she said, “the river was as polluted as under communism,” when factory effluent was the culprit.

Even Charles Bridge, a magnet for tourists, was closed for three weeks. But soon the caricaturists, jewelry hawkers and buskers returned, claiming spots in the shadows of the statues of 30 martyred saints on both sides of the bridge. As I strolled back to the Lesser Quarter from Old Town Square one midnight, a young man was leading a singalong of Elvis’ “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”

As Kornecka and I walked the bridge on a hot August day, she told me a story about how, when the bridge was being built in the 13th century, egg yolks were added to the mortar for strength, and every town was asked to donate eggs. “One town, unaware of the purpose, sent boiled eggs.”

We paused at the statue of St. John of Nepomuk, where a spot on the bronze is polished bright from the touch of thousands of hands. It’s supposed to bring good luck, though the saint himself had little. Having incurred the wrath of a 14th century king, he was tortured, killed and dragged to the bridge, where his body was tossed into the river.

Split personality

During my visit, I stayed on both sides of the river. My three hotels on the right bank were the luxurious Four Seasons, the more modest Maximilian and the ultra-hip glass-and-steel Hotel Josef. On the left bank I stayed at the cozy Hotel Certovka.

On another visit to Prague, I think I’d again split my stay between the two banks of the Vltava. The right bank has the Old Town and Old Town Square, the hub of city life with its sidewalk cafes and the many attractions of the Jewish Quarter. The left bank has the Lesser Quarter, with its cobbled streets and Baroque buildings; Kampa Island and its gardens; and Hradcany, which is crowned by Prague Castle, a vast complex of palaces, churches, gardens and galleries.

The Lesser Quarter also is home to the Parliament and some of the city’s best restaurants. It’s more intimate and, some think, a bit too chic and nouveau riche.

“The place is losing its character,” Kornecka said. “It used to be old ladies shopping and old men sipping beer. They’ve been replaced by yuppies drinking mineral water and using mobile phones.”

Wherever you stay, Prague, a city of 1.2 million, is wonderfully walkable. It also is one of Europe’s most beautiful cities, having been spared destruction by Allied bombs during World War II, when it was occupied by the Nazis.

Incursion of modern buildings into the heart of the city so far has been minimal. Controversy surrounded the Nationale-Nederlanden building when it opened in 1996. Designed by L.A. architect Frank O. Gehry and Czech architect Vlado Milunic, it sits among fin de siecle facades on the riverfront. It’s nicknamed the Fred and Ginger Building for its two curvy “dancing” towers, one of which resembles a woman’s dress with pinched waist. It has been less kindly described as a crushed Coke can.

The Four Seasons, in a great location near the river, has done a good job of melding three buildings -- a 19th century fishmonger’s, a 19th century factory and an 18th century monastery laundry -- into a seamless complex with a new core housing lobby, bar and restaurant.

When I visited, the hotel had recently reopened after closing for 10 months for flood repairs. Although a barrier on the riverbank held back the Vltava, the hotel’s lower floors, housing its infrastructure, were flooded.

“If it happens again, we’re ready,” said the hotel’s sales and marketing director, Andrew Farnfield, leading the way below ground level and pointing out new defenses: submarine-type doors and pumps for sending errant water back to the river.

Wedged among vintage buildings in the city center, even the starkly contemporary Hotel Josef doesn’t really jolt the senses. The Josef, designed by Czech-born, London-based architect Eva Jiricna, had barely opened its doors when the flood struck, inundating its underground garage and knocking out electricity. The area, hotel guests and all, was evacuated Aug. 14. “This was like a city of ghosts that morning,” said clerk Michael Platenik.

I toured Prague by trolley, bus and boat, and on foot, but regret not having taken one of the 1930s Praga open touring cars. I did take the 3 1/2-hour Martin tour that leaves from Old Town Square.

When not warning us about pickpockets, our guide, Jaroslav, pointed out the district where Martina Navratilova was born and told us that, after London, Prague is the most popular city in Europe for shooting Hollywood films. (The Economist, in a story referring to Prague as Hollywood’s second choice among European cities, noted that in 2000, movies, commercials and pop videos pumped $200 million into Prague’s economy.) To Jaroslav, the resulting congestion is a mixed blessing: “I prefer parking to seeing a star.”

Jaroslav had a particular fondness for legends that explain the flood, such as that of the crowd-pleasing astronomical clock in Old Town Square with its mechanical figures that perform hourly. When it stops, he said, it portends catastrophe. “On New Year’s Eve 2001, the clock stopped,” he said. Never mind that it was eight months before the flood.

Early in the 20th century, Prague embraced Art Nouveau, and fine architectural examples can be found, notably Municipal House at 5 Namesti Republiky. It’s a flamboyant feast of stained glass, ironwork and mosaics by Czech artists, including the celebrated Alphonse Mucha. If that name doesn’t register, think of those Sarah Bernhardt theater posters for sale all over Paris. Mucha has his own museum, at 7 Panska, where you can see some of those posters, along with paintings and memorabilia. The gift shop has some nice Nouveau objets.

One night I took in Opera Mozart’s production of “Don Giovanni” at the Estates Theater, a major site in “Amadeus,” Czech-born director Milos Forman’s Oscar winner. Here, in 1787, Mozart conducted the premiere. The production I saw had strangely minimalist sets -- dark panels that were raised and lowered and boxes with labels such as “morte” and “amore” -- on which actors perched meaningfully. For $42, I had a seat in a three-chair box in the second tier of the theater, which is all gilt and cherubs and blue velvet and damask, with a painted dome ceiling.

“Mozart played here” or “Mozart stayed here” is the Prague equivalent of “George Washington slept here.” Although the composer was Austrian, he enjoyed great success in Prague. One hot afternoon I saw a concert at St. Nicholas Church on Old Town Square, where, it’s said, Mozart once played the organ. In the Lesser Quarter I paused to read a plaque at Lazenska Street and Malostranske Namesti, at a former hotel where both Beethoven and Mozart stayed. I visited the Strahov Monastery, where, it’s said, Mozart also played the organ.

Prague has a rich Jewish history. I was fascinated by the Old Jewish Cemetery, with its 12,000 headstones tilting crazily against one another. When this was part of the Jewish ghetto, space was dear, so bodies are buried 12 deep, the first in 1439, the last in 1787 -- 100,000 or more. As I walked past, a young man in a Pink Floyd T-shirt was cleaning the Hebrew letters on a stone.

The old cemetery and five synagogues nearby comprise the Jewish Museum in Prague, and a single ticket is good for admission to most sites. Displayed in the synagogues are priceless religious artifacts -- alms boxes, prayer shawls, Torahs -- brought to Prague for safekeeping in 1942 from synagogues throughout Bohemia and Moravia, at the instigation of Prague’s Jewish community.

The Nazis, it seems, endorsed the idea of Prague as a collection point, but for quite a different reason. They wanted the objects for Hitler’s planned Museum of the Extinct Jewish Race. According to a sign at the old cemetery, of the 92,000 Jews who lived in Prague in 1941, 80,000 were deported or exterminated. Today the Jewish population is about 1,500, and the Jewish Quarter is no longer Jewish.

The restored 19th century Spanish Synagogue is among Prague’s most beautiful holy places, with its Moorish interior of vibrant blues and reds and its stained-glass dome. During World War II the Nazis used it as a warehouse for confiscated Jewish property. Today its Silver Room displays a wealth of Torah shields and crowns, kiddush cups and Hanukkah lamps.

Endearing idiosyncrasies

Some cities reach out and embrace you, make you feel instantly at home. Prague did this for me. I loved its beauty -- the spires and gardens, fanciful buildings and narrow lanes.

And I loved its oddities. Is there another city where a holy place houses a painting of a bearded lady? At the Loreto church in the Lesser Quarter is the hapless St. Starosta, a Christian princess who prayed to become ugly to avoid marriage to a pagan king chosen by her father. Her prayer answered, she grew a beard and mustache, was rejected by her suitor -- then crucified by her father.

At the Baroque Church of Our Lady Victorious, I paused at the altar of the Holy Infant of Prague, a doll-sized baby Jesus fashioned of candle wax and given to the church 400 years ago by a Spaniard who married a well-born Czech. The infant, who is credited with miracles, stands in a little glass cage atop an altar and has a large and elaborate wardrobe, changed frequently by the nuns. In soaring St. Vitus Cathedral at Prague Castle, there’s the tomb of St. Wenceslaus (good king Wenceslaus), who was done in by his brother’s henchmen in 929. The walls of his over-the-top shrine are encrusted with semiprecious jewels.

Close by the French Embassy in the Lesser Quarter’s Grand Priory Square is the Lennon Wall, where John Lennon’s painted image first appeared shortly after his death in 1980. “People used to come here and put flowers and candles,” Kornecka said. “The security police didn’t like it. Visiting it was kind of an anticommunist expression.” The wall endures, although it is painted over now and then and new graffiti appear. The day I visited, there was a Lennon likeness, a “no war” message and something about the Hare Krishnas.

Before leaving, I had to have a beer at the Golden Tiger, where President Clinton, the late Czech writer Bohumil Hrabal (“Closely Watched Trains”) and then President Vaclav Havel dropped by in 1994. At 17 Husova, just off Old Town Square, it is an unpretentious, smoke-filled place with bare wood tables and locals eating cheaply -- herring in onions, sausage and pivni syr (beer cheese), a concoction of mashed cheese, mustard and onions.

Seeking an authentic pub dinner, I found my way to U Medvidku (the Bear Cubs), off the beaten track at 7 Na Perstyne in the Old Town. It’s a 15th century beer hall that makes no accommodation for tourist palates. Specials include grilled pork tail and Roquefort fried in bread crumbs with ham. My $8 roast duck was edible, once I’d pulled off the skin and scraped away the brown gravy. The red cabbage was great. Before I could order dessert, a whistle blew. The pub was now closed. Period.

Excellent and expensive restaurants are plentiful but not affordable for most Czechs, whose average monthly wage is $500.

Shop windows, too, are filled with things out of reach of many Czechs. Crystal and more crystal, amber and garnets. Bargaining is OK. At a shop on ritzy, tree-lined Parizka Street, the price of amber earrings dropped before I even had a chance to try them on.

As the Czech Republic prepares to join the European Union in 2004, it has unquestionably lost much of its Eastern European authenticity. McDonald’s, KFC and Pizza Hut have arrived. In Old Town Square, stalls sell “Czech It Out!” T-shirts and Prague Drinking Team baseball caps. Another souvenir: a shirt that says, “The KGB Is Still Watching You.”

Still, the Prague that shows its prettiest face to visitors is a lovely place.

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Seeing the glories of Prague

GETTING THERE:

From LAX, Lufthansa, KLM, Air France, Aer Lingus, British Airways, Swiss, Delta and American offer connecting flights (change of plane) to Prague. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $794.

TELEPHONES:

To call numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (the international code), 420 (code for the Czech Republic) and the local number.

WHERE TO STAY:

Four Seasons, 2a Veleslavinova; 420-221-427-000, fax 420-221-426-000, www.fourseasons.com. True luxury in a wonderful location near the Vltava River, Charles Bridge and Old Town Square. Inviting river-view restaurant, cozy bar, health club. Impeccable service. “Contemporary comfortable” public rooms with Art Deco touches. Doubles from $304.

Hotel Josef, 20 Rybna; 221-700-111, fax 221-700-999, www.hoteljosef.com. Oh-so-hip, with minimalist decor -- lots of glass and metal -- and, on my visit, minimalist service. Great breakfast buffet served in cheerful room overlooking garden. Quiet, comfortable rooms in muted tones with punches of primary color. Doubles from $268,including breakfast.

Hotel Maximilian, 14 Hastalska; 225-303-111, fax 225-303-119, www.maximilianhotel.com. On a pretty square in Old Town, steps from neighborhood cafes. Small Art Nouveau lobby/bar, free coffee and use of Internet room. Good value. (Sadly, on my visit, the square was still torn up for flood repairs.) Doubles from $180.

Hotel Certovka, 2 U Luzickeho Seminare, in the Lesser Quarter; 257-532-235, fax 257-534-392, www.certovka.cz. Charming, well-located small hotel in a 400-year-old Baroque home. Book a room overlooking Charles Bridge and Devil’s Stream. Rooms, on the small side, have modern decor. No air conditioning. Doubles from $178, including breakfast.

WHERE TO EAT:

Kampa Park, 8b Na Kampe, at river’s edge in the Lesser Quarter; 257-532-685. The perfect last-night-in-Prague restaurant. In nice weather, try to snag a table on the covered terrace overlooking Charles Bridge and the lights of Old Town across the Vltava. Excellent food -- fish, beef, venison -- nicely served without attitude. Dinner entrees $17-$26.

Nostress, 10 Dusni; 222-317-007. I’d go back just for the carrot and coriander soup. Inviting Old Town cafe with lots of nooks and crannies, plump leather armchairs, low tables, pots of bamboo. There’s an in-house gallery with objets from Asian and Czech artists. Fish, beef, duck, dim sum. Sandwiches and such at lunchtime. Dinner entrees $10-$19.

Cerny Orel, 14 Malostranske Nam, in the Lesser Quarter; 257-53-3207. Mozart slept in a home that once stood here. In the 19th century it was a pharmacy, whose chemist also brewed booze. A noted artist of the day painted the facade to pay his bar bill. Big menu, from spaghetti to beef filet with truffle oil. Dinner entrees $10 and under.

Gourmand au Gourmand, 10 Dlouha, half a block off Old Town Square; 222-329-060. Nice salads, sandwiches, quiches and pastries to take out or eat in, most less than $5.

TO LEARN MORE:

Czech Center, 1109 Madison Ave., New York, NY 10028; (212) 288-0830, fax (212) 288-0971, www.czechcenter.com.

-- Beverly Beyette