The English party, hosteled in the Stare Mesto or Old Town, went in search of breakfast on a sunny morning in the Czech capital but found that, despite the large numbers of people converging on the area from where the city´s marathon (15000 entries) was shortly to start, restaurant owners were having their usual Sunday lie-in; even the market stall holders were only just beginning to set up. We eventually found an Italian cafe open and enjoyed a continental breakfast amidst the runners warming up.
We returned to our hotel to meet Radka, a friend of one of our pupils, who had come up to the capital solely to act as our guide, without expecting to find the way to Wenceslas Square, where we were to meet the Finnish party, blocked by the race. We had to dash beneath the cordon and between the runners in order to progress, and did so under the eye of the Czech TV camera broadcasting the action. The rather intimidating-looking Czech police ignored us--school parties have a strange immunity at times! So we were able to march up the square, actually a long, broad, tree-lined street full of surprisingly English stores like M & S, to meet the Finns beneath the famous statue in front of the Museum. With them was the Czech teacher Petr, who was acting as their guide.
Cordial greetings were exchanged and the decision taken to get day travel tickets and catch a tram to the tower commonly known as the Mini-Eiffel. But neither Petr nor Radka had bargained on the marathon, and the tram had to be abandoned once we realised the right number was taking us in the wrong direction!
A long day´s walking ensued; but if you are ever going to walk all day round a European capital, choose Prague in the spring. The forecast rain held off, live bands played for the runners on what seemed every street corner, and on roads with more segways than cars running, we made our way with cameras clicking frequently through this most scenic of cities. Children not usually moved by British architecture were commenting on the beauty of the buildings, by turns colourful, grand, classically-proportioned and wonderfully decorated, some with murals, some with statues, and most with lovely examples of stonework. We walked up the hill (some took the cable car) to the imitation-Eiffel Tower at the top, followed by 299 steps for those who wanted the best view--more cameras clicking, accompanied by gasps which may have been in astonishment at the panorama unfolding, or may simply have been due to shortage of breath.
Even greater beauties lay in store for us than the view of spires, treetops, red-tiled roofs and the Vltava curving between the magnificent riverside buildings could afford. After a light but leisurely meal we made our way down to the still high castle and cathedral. Just when you might have thought you could not see a more attractive set of large buildings anywhere, you turned a corner and each new street seem to surpass the ones before. Cobbled streets, the absence of traffic, steep and narrow alleys disappearing down towards the river, incredibly-detailed carving and artwork on the walls, ornate iron fountains--and still we had not arrived at the jewels in the crown! I had to replace my camera batteries by the time we arrived at the castle, with a quartet playing classical music nearby and the blue-uniformed guards changing conveniently for us just after we showed up.
The castle is hugely impressive. Parts are in daily use as government offices, yet tourists wander freely around in both senses of the word, posing for photos and tossing coins into the fountain and the well. We had already seen more civic beauty than most cities could afford in their entirety, when we entered St. Vitus´ Cathedral, which simply took our breath away. One glory followed another in quick succession: the stained glass windows--I had never seen such an accumulation of colours tumbling over and into each other in patterns of vitality and passion--the huge arches, the ornately decorated tombs, the magnificent paintings, the beautiful statues and the quiet sacred corners. It was a very moving experience just to be here. Our time in the Czech republic had barely begun, and already it felt like a great privilege to be part of it.
Our first visit to Prague was nearing its close and it was time for us to collect our suitcases and to take the tram to the railway station. Meanwhile Petr was off to the airport to meet the Turkish team and to bring them to the airport too. Eventually three nationalities and our Czech guide were on the train for the one hour fifty minute journey to the nearest mainline station to our destination. The team from Slovakia and a fleet of cars was waiting for us. Jablonné was only thirty kilometres away so, although it was quite late, it was not unbearably so.
