Prague Blague: Day 2

The second day I set out on another route, along the river to the National Theatre, then across to Mala Strana, the area below the castle on the same side of the river. 

The Narodni Divadlo, or National Theatre

This is equally as charming as Stare Mesto, and in some ways more so. When looking for late eighteenth century streets and buildings in which to shoot scenes for the film Amadeus, Milos Forman chose this section of Prague, not Vienna, where the action is set.

A small, curving street in Mala Strana

Wander even one street off the main tourist paths and you can see why, instantly. If a few cars could be moved out of the way, it would, and does for me, retain the feel of the era in which it was built. It’s also slightly less crowded with tourists, though the solo traveler will be trapped at times by competing tour groups, led by men and women, who seem to have been at the business a bit longer than they’d have liked, carrying umbrellas raised as a focal point for the herd following them. But if you’re clever and quick you can give them the slip and have full moments alone in a past created by your own imagination.

I’ll confess that when I have such moments much as I love them, I also imagine what Dottore Gianni would have been like in that era: a peasant, he’d not be leisurely strolling, oh no, but racng to get somewhere at the behest of a stern and unforgiving master, probably loaded down with goods or baggage. And as his eyes are in awful shape even in the twenty-first century and the best spectacles that money and health insurance can buy,  living back a few centuries he’d also be traveling nearly blind. IF he was lucky enough to be in a city at all! More likely plowing a field somewhere out in the country.

Building with lovely painting on Malastranske Namesti

But what of that? While not the wealthiest of tourists, I am much more able to enjoy myself than my unidentifiable peasant predecessors would ever have been. 

Na Kampe

And so I enjoyed my walk through Mala Strana, and the area in it slightly separated from land by a small channel in the river, known as Na Kampe. Here you can really feel the eighteenth century. I like best the small squares in the vicinity of and running under the Charles Bridge. You can grab a bite at a café, catch a boat along the river, or just have a good wander, as I did.

In fact I had such a good wander that I needed to hurry just a bit to get back to Stare Mesto in time to grab a bite to eat before the opera!

I had thought to get something at the Christmas Market, but it was so crowded that I didn’t want to fight the crowds. I’ve also learned in the past not to take the hustlers working in front of restaurants along Staromestke Namesti up on their offer for a good meal. They seat you in a friendly manner and immediately forget you, and when you wave for a menu ten minutes later they do their best to ignore you. So I marched away from the square and towards the theatre, and on the way found a more modest place that was pleasant if not perfect for a pre-theatre lunch.

I chose well in the restaurant, poorly in the lunch. I have been wanting to try the traditional Christmas Eve dinner of fish soup followed by carp and potato salad. But of course instead of eating it on Christmas Eve, a day of fast and 

abstinence in a Catholic country, I decided to have it on Christmas Day. And with two-thirds of it I was not disappointed. The fish soup was delicious, and a perfect way to warm up from two hours of trodding around in very cold and somewhat windy, wet weather. But the main course was more food than I’d bargained for and less tasty than I’d hoped. Carp, I had guessed when reading about it, might be an acquired taste. Let’s just say I did not acquire it on this occasion. I got through about half of it – dark and very “fishy” with bones throughout. A few bits were good, and I had few more than that. The potato salad was gigantic and while better than the carp only fairly good. Washing it all down with Staropramen helped immsensely however, and the dessert, Christmas Stollen, was the highlight of the meal.

The highlight of the meal - yum!

And then, at 1:45 pm I got up from my table and walked the two minutes to the Estates Theatre for the Christmas Day matinee of Don Giovanni, the great Mozart/da Ponte opera which premiered at this same theatre in 1787. This 

Boxes at the Estates Theater

was a treat! The production was interestingly if a bit oddly designed by the great Czech innovator, Josef Svoboda, so visually it was stunning. For the most part it was well-sung, though I must admit I wanted to shoot the shrieker who was singing the admittedly difficult role of Dona Anna. But the other singers were adequate at least, and Leporello and especially the title character were sung and performed very well indeed. But the star of this show was the Estates itself. I’m been to the Statni Opera here before, and to the National Theatre, but the Estates is simply exquisite, when the foghorn pretending to be Dona Anna (don’t worry, she’s not following this blog – at least I hope not!) was ploughing roughly through beautiful music I simply looked up or around. 

In the Estates, particularly when listening to Mozart, it is very simple indeed to imagine oneself present back in the eighteenth century, as little has been changed, though much restored. And of course while electric light works wonders on stage, in an auditorium such as this one it is somewhat garish – one can’t have everything, however, and what I was given was more than enough!

The ceiling of the Estates

The company managed to churn through this opera in exactly three hours, which left me a full hour to wander about before my dinner reservation. 

                              Obesni Dum

I nearly thought of eating elsewhere as I had had quite a day and Slavic and Hungarian cuisine was beginning to wear a tad, but I wandered up and down Wenceslas Square and at about ten minutes before six I presented myself at the huge Pivnice of Obesni Dum – which was about two-thirds empty! I supposed I needn’t have waited, but I was asked if I had a reservation, and in fact I had, so I was placed in the front section, along with a few very large tour groups of Asians. As I sat down another gigantic group of Asians was ushered in and I realized that the place I remembered from the visit with my mother and sister had turned into (or had it always been?) a tourist-hell/mecca. I ordered poorly, the beef stroganoff, but the full liter of Pilsner Urquell I ordered ameliorated the situation somewhat. 

The Pivnice at Obesni Dum

The tourists were having a great time, especially when the old accordianist popped out and regaled them with Strauss waltzed and the Beer Barrel Polka – cheers and applause throughout – except for the man at the solo table. It wasn’t a bad meal, and the situation was more humorous than anything else, but…let’s just say I’ve eaten better in Prague!

After that I walked quickly back to the hotel and again busied myself with blogging and photo-shopping and what-not. An interesting if imperfect Christmas Day. But then is Christmas Day ever perfect?