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My
flight landed in Prague right behind the Aeroflot
flight from Moscow and the reaction of the Czech
customs made it absolutely clear that Russians are
no longer welcome. As papers were fussed over, and
applicants sent back to get visas, be interviewed
etc. I began to realise what the occupants of an
Aeroflot flight must have thought, when they landed
behind a British Airways flight, in days of yore.
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| Prague is a city of mixed reputations,
a few years ago Prague was certainly not the place
to be young and idealistic, but now it is the place
to go and do just that. To use that awful Americanism,
it is the in place to hang out. These days Prague
has reputations; as a romantic haven; a place to soak
up history and the spot, in the former Soviet empire,
that is a must to visit. These reputations are fully
justified. Nobody would even suggest they had seen
Europe if they had not been to Paris, for me add Prague
to that list. |
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Prague is a city I visited three times,
in 1990, before finally deciding to come to Budapest,
so this prolonged visit gave me an opportunity to
see what I missed.
Prague is a small city at the centre, which is really
all that one wishes to go to. Because of this virtually
all worth while restaurants and bars are within walking
distances of the impressive Staroméstské
square. There are three problems to getting around:
the old streets do not run in straight lines, thus
trying to find a place, particularly in the old town,
could make Hampton Court Maze look preferable,; the
narrow streets are often bared to vehicles, thus simply
hailing a passing fast black does not always solve
the problem; and finally the honesty, of the person
you hail, may leave a great deal to be desired. But,
of course, this problem is endemic in this region
and at the end of the day even the rip-off prices
would not maintain a real black cab driver for very
long.
When I first visited Prague, in early 1990, I looked
at some of the run down hotels and restaurants and
positively drooled at the potential that they presented.
One such hotel, just off Nam Republiky, was the turn
of the century Hotel Pariz (u. Obecniho domu 1, Prague
1. Tel: (42.2) 24.22.21.51) which despite being internally
awful, retained a proud exterior. Just under two years
ago the hotel was returned to its former owners, the
Brandejs family, who had operated the hotel prior
to state confiscation and they have now returned this
hotel to its former glory with the fine art nouveau
interior making it for those in the know, the only
place to stay.
It quickly became apparent that there had been a real
revolution in the hospitality industry providing the
consumer, and particularly the visitor with some real
options. I could not help reflecting that Budapest
really has been left behind when it comes to the development
of to many places to play. Of course Prague is much
smaller and that makes it all that much more accessible,
but it did not take me long to find some restaurants
with a real choice, and more particularly small good
menus that would have competed internationally. And
if that was not enough I did not see one restaurant
owner in a shell suit.
Prague has some genuinely fine restaurants, and the
cooking, in new private restaurants is anything but
stereo typed. David Restaurant ( Trziste 21, Prague
1. Tel: 53.93.25) is in a small house just up the
road from the American Embassy. The decor is that
of an elegant dining room and the food is a solid
and modern, without being too nouveauish. Difficult
to find: this is the very best of back street restaurants. |
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| The most unlikely restaurant is the
Reykjavik ( Karlova 20), which is an Icelandic restaurant,
and serves a simple menu, obviously featuring fish,
but also with some plain grills, and serves a particularly
good creamed fish soup. A nice operation which would
go down well anywhere. I just hope that Icelandic
restaurants do not catch on like Chinese or there
will be nobody left in Iceland. There are several
American owned, and surprisingly run, operations for
those desperate for second rate chilly and guacamole.
Red, Hot and Blues (Jakubska 12, nr Nam Republiky)
is all American run and features 'Cajun cookin' like
mom used to make,' as well as fat daddy burgers. |
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I was advised that to just wander the
streets around Staroméstské (Old Town
Square) and I would find any number of reasonable
restaurant. I do not think that is bad advice if all
you want is solids at a reasonable price. When I did
try one of these restaurants Mucha , (Melantrichova
5), I found an interior that would not have disgraced
a Bournemouth guest house and a chef with his mind
stuck firmly in deep fry mode, but I suppose I got
an all right meal for a little under $20, however
there are plenty of cheaper options about.
Possibly one of the most amazing operations I have
come across for a long time is the Obecní Dum.
This is a large multi purpose building from the turn
of the century which features a large concert chamber,
a vast pub in the cellar, a rock club (open till 5
am) also in the cellar, The cafe Nouveau, which features
jazz each evening (entrance free), with a large balcony
called the Martini club for cocktails, and as if that
is not enough there is the Brassiere Mozart. In many
ways I enjoyed the Brassiere Mozart more than anywhere
else in a high ceilinged art nouveau room with a central
bar. At one end comfortable tables with crisp white
table clothes and genuinely eager staff, the menu
is simple and the vegetables, with my steak béarnaise,
where wonderfully crisp. Oh! and, I forgot the duo,
piano and violin, playing light classics and standards.
Through the vast double glazed windows I watched the
snow come down. The motto of the Brassiere Mozart
is 'walk in: Dance out.' Unfortunately my dining companion,
the Editor, is tall, hairy and was over relaxed from
the second bottle of wine.
At nights I hung out in the pub with three hundred
odd happy people, mainly American, as Ronnie and the
Stingrays thumped through numbers I seem to remember
were popular when the West partied and the tanks rolled
into Prague. |
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Prague is rightly known for its jazz
scene and there are plenty of places featuring jazz,
not good 'ole' thumping New Orleans Jazz but moody
saxes and harsh clarinets backed by long haired bass
players and grimacing drummers. I watched 67 year
old Vlasta Pruchová belt it out, a kind of
female George Melly I decided, as she mesmerised the
audience at the tiny AghaRTA jazz club ( Krakovska
5, Prague 1). Not far a way at the Reduta (Národni
trida 20 ) is a brass plaque that shows where Bill
and Vlascav sat before Bill did his bit with the sax.
This is small theatre type club, with the bar hidden
off stage left. The decor of the bar is very unpresidential
featuring beer crates screwed to the ceiling. However
I suppose Bill did not have to visit this bit as he
was guaranteed a seat in the auditorium; if you don't
go early you will not be so lucky.
There is a good sprinkling of casinos in the city
and the casino in the Hotel Ambassador claims to be
open non-stop. It is also possible to gamble in Czech
crowns in this casino, which is seems to reduce the
risk but holds the serious drawback that if you do
win, and are soon to leave there is an enormous urge
to spend the money, rather than change it back at
one of the literally hundreds of rip-off change places.
(check out the rates some of the small independents
give so much better rates than the more well known
cheque points). |
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| Radost FX (Belehradská 120, Prague
2) is the late night spot to be seen, laid back serving
fast food for herbivores and with a disco with psychedelic
moving pictures and clothed and highly motivated gogo
dancers. Names don't matter because males and females
answer to 'man.' |
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Back near Staroméstské
is the Arena Disco (Melantrichova 5) where checking
in the weapon is de rigeur, but there are few chances
for fights as the ladies seem to believe in the words
of the recent pop song 'that girls should have fun(ds),'
charm and good looks came a poor second to cash.
Prague is a lively town these days with romance and
excitement all part of the scene. It is a city of
music, not just in the many clubs and concert halls,
but on the streets where there are buskers of all
ages, type and nationality. When I played in Boul
Mich, the tanks rolled into Prague, and almost inevitably
I could not but help get that sixties feel. Maybe
that is just for the enormous foreign community trying
to live in an age that they missed, or in some cases
never wanted to end. I fear though, that for the average
man on the street, reality is watching, not being
part of, the scene.
C YA
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