Saturday, February 13, 2016

Nasledujúca zastávka: Portland!

Portland, Oregon, 13 February 2016

As the Bratislava trams and buses depart from a stop, a pleasant alto voice comes on the intercom to announce the next stop: Nasledujúca zastávka ... name of the stop. So as we boarded the final leg of our 21 hour sequence of flights, I could not resist looking at Suzanne and intoning, in as pleasant an alto as I could muster: Nasledujúca zastávka ... Portland!

Our last day in Göteborg was pleasant. We delivered the car to Volvo at 10am. As in all of our other visits they were most accommodating. They not only arranged a car to take us back to the hotel, but also paid for a car to drive us (and six suitcase and two large backpacks) from the hotel to the airport on Thursday morning. Their factory delivery center is a first-class operation in every way!

The last day before traveling is always stressful for me. I am impatient to get on the way and sometimes drive myself crazy trying to find things to do to kill time. So we arranged a bunch of activities for Wednesday afternoon and evening to keep us busy. After lunch we walked down the street to the Göteborg City Museum, located in the old East India Company building near the river. After spending so much time in Central Europe it requires a brief reorientation being in a city that was not destroyed by two world wars. It would be interesting to compare the survival rate of historical buildings in places like Sweden to that in places that had more war-time destruction. I suppose that someone has done this, but from our brief observation the survival rate looked similar.

The City Museum was an exploration of ancient and more recent Scandinavian artifacts and culture, featuring the remains (a few very decayed timbers) of an actual Viking ship dug up out of the mud some years ago. Growing up in Minnesota, we were somewhat aware of the Viking explorers and their history. It was interesting to fill in some of the details and see some of the artifacts from as long as 12,000 years ago.





Remains of the Äskekärrsskeppet


The City Museum has some fine examples of old statuary depicting Norse gods. But compared to the ornate statues being produced in the Mediterranean in similar periods, these statues just scream: Ikea! Maybe the Ikea aesthetic goes back millennia...










Dutch planners helped lay out Göteborg, and there are canals weaving through the older parts of the city. This one runs past the museum (and past our hotel), lined with many old buildings and a few newer ones.





After a quick dinner at a vegetarian buffet---a lot of the vegetarian restaurants in Europe seem to be buffets, either all you can eat for a fixed price or pay by the gram with a scale at the cash register---we headed off to our final European musical event: Figaros Bröllop (Marriage of Figaro) at the Göteborg Opera. The Opera House in Göteborg is a beautiful modern structure erected right on the riverfront. It is designed inside and out with a vaguely ship-oriented motif.






The production was interesting, with costumes and sets reflecting the early 20th century setting rather than the rather older setting normally seen. The singers and the orchestra were generally very good, although after some of the amazing musical events we have seen this year it is easy to be critical when an aria doesn't quite come off, when a singer's words get lost under the orchestra, or when everyone isn't quite 100% in sync. A very enjoyable, if very long at 3.5 hours, last evening in Europe.

It is interesting that the two operas we saw on the road home were both Mozart. This was not intentional, just an coincidence of program scheduling and our travel plans. But it evoked in me a realization that my musical tastes have evolved over my lifetime. In the broad spectrum of classical music, Mozart has never been a favorite of mine. I know that this is heresy! But I've always leaned more toward emotionally heavy romantic composers from Beethoven to Brahms to Mahler and Berlioz. Mozart was always kind of "vanilla." I even found Bach and other earlier composers somehow more interesting than Mozart.

But the experience of hearing two of his wonderful operas in a week has opened my eyes. Or maybe I'm just old enough that vanilla tastes really good after decades of blasting my taste buds with exotic flavors. This week I found the simple, usually predicable cadences to be rapturously satisfying in their purity and perfection. Apparently I'm going into a "Mozart phase" at age 62. Better late than never!

Flying home was never going to be fun. Add in the last stages of a cold that I've been fighting for a week, and it was destined to be a long slog. Up at 5:30 CET to catch a 7:00 car to the airport with six suitcases and two backpacks, a 9:40 flight from Göteborg to Copenhagen, a two-hour wait in the airport there, an 11-hour flight to San Francisco, an hour to get through the frustratingly inefficient customs/immigration/getting checked bags/rechecking bags/walking several miles in the terminal/going back through security process, a four-hour wait for the Portland flight, then finally home at 9:00 PST, 24+ hours after we awakened in Sweden. And it was all daylight until San Francisco, so I got less sleep than usual on the flights. The long flight took an extreme polar route (more so than the eastbound trip), going well north of Iceland, over the center of Greenland, and up over Baffin Island before coming down past Edmonton and almost over Portland before landing at SFO. Not much to see on this route, but the views of the sun rising/setting/just being there on the horizon at noon over Baffin Island were amazing. It's just fitting that after all the wonderful sunrises and sunsets we have seen, the last picture on the blog is a red-tinted sky.




So now we're home, moving back into our house that was well maintained by our house sitters. Any time someone else lives in your house, there are always questions like: Hmm, I wonder where this is? We have that twice over because we stored a lot of our stuff to  make room for them, so we not only have to find things that they might have put in a different place than we are used to, but we also have to remember where we ourselves put items in August. I guess that's what the first week back is for, along with doing endless loads of laundry (with a dryer!!!).

So this closes the book on Blogaslava.

When I started this blog---my first ever---I promised, not quite convincingly, to try to post about once a week. My real expectation up front was that I would make about five posts and have maybe 20 page views, with the whole enterprise petering out by October. I've been amazed that I've managed to post 42 times during 6 months, and even more so that readers have viewed pages over 4,000 times. For me, the blog has been excellent therapy, giving me an opportunity to reflect on our many and varied activities and an excuse sometimes to rant or extol. I hope that those of you who have followed my postings regularly have enjoyed sharing the ups and downs---and there have been many of both---of our adventures. (Suzanne and I recently queried each other about the best and worst of the trip. Immediate agreement: our visit to Beaune was the best and the experience with the Slovak Foreign Police was the worst.)

Will there be another blog? I doubt that I will have anything to say from Portland that anyone would want to read. My interests are so eclectic---music, wine, food, (real, not American) football, baseball, economics, higher education, etc.---that I doubt that there would be a theme to my posts that would prove consistently interesting to anyone. And surely no one (except maybe Suzanne) is interested enough in me to read anything just because I posted it; I'm not a celebrity!

If I change my mind, I'll post a link to the new blog here, but for now I'm signing off. Thanks for reading!

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Northward bound II: Leipzig to Sweden

Göteborg, Sweden, 10 February 2016

After four days of driving and a few stops along the way we are back where we started in Sweden. Our car is delivered back to its creators and now embarks on a 3-month cruise through the Panama Canal. We embark tomorrow morning on a 21-hour sequence of three flights, with stops in Copenhagen and San Francisco before finally landing in Portland about 9pm local time.

The people at Volvo have been wonderful. Taking care of all of the necessary arrangements for shipping the car and driving us both back to the hotel today and from the hotel to the airport tomorrow.

Apart from a few long road delays due to accidents, our northward trip was uneventful. We spent the weekend in Leipzig absorbing a bit of the rich musical culture. We had arranged tickets for a Sunday matinee concert by the Gewandhaus Orchestra.

The Gewandhaus began as a concert hall in the late 1700s and the orchestra grew to prominence under the leadership of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy (who somehow loses his last name in America, though it is nearly always used here). The orchestra bearing its name claims to be the first to survive without political or religious patronage.

The old Gewandhaus was fire-bombed in World War II and rather than rebuild according to the old plans, a completely new and modern building was erected and opened in 1981. I have complained a lot in this blog about Soviet attempts at architecture (and there is a lot to complain about!), but they got this one 100% right.

The new building is on Augustusplatz, along across from the opera house and adjacent to the spectacular new glass building of the University of Leipzig.

New Gewandhaus from edge of Augustusplatz


Glass building of University of Leipzig

The Gewandhaus hall is constructed "in the round," with the orchestra surrounded by the audience. Here is a map from their ticket Web site, with the orchestra located in the gray area in the middle.


Our seats were in the back row of the little wing on the left, as shown by the black circle. Really, there isn't a bad seat anywhere in this hall and the acoustics are amazing. Every note from every instrument can be heard distinctly and the hall accommodates the biggest fortes without losing the smallest pianissimos.

These pictures will give you a little more of a feel for the interior, but of course I can't post anything that would give you an idea of the wonderful sound.


Intermission lounges, with multi-story mural on wall to the left

Augustusplatz from the intermission lounge, with opera house opposite



Organ and the behind-the-stage seating area

View from our seats

The hall was lovely, but the real story of the day was the music. Mahler's 10th symphony can only be described as a monster. Seventy-five minutes of brutally difficult and always exposed individual parts that don't always blend together in a simple way. I am a big Mahler fan, but even I find that listening to the 10th is a challenge, especially the 30-minute adagio opening movement. For the orchestra, it must be a grueling ordeal, with opportunities for disaster on every page.

But there were no disasters on Sunday. The performance was brilliant---everything you would expect from one of Europe's great orchestras. They filled the room with euphonious sound when the augmented brass sections let loose, yet left us all on the edges of our chairs as the volume died slowly to silence at the end.

Six curtain calls, after the last of which the orchestra members stood up and all shook hands with their stand partners, congratulating each other no doubt on surviving three performances of this gigantic work in four days. The Friday performance will be released later this year on DVD as part of their cycle of Mahler's symphonies. (Only the first and third remain to be recorded.)

After the concert, we headed out to do as much as we could of the Leipzig Music Trail. Behind Vienna, Leipzig is probably Europe's leading home to great composers. Bach, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Grieg, and Wagner all spent large parts of their musical lives here, and all have houses, museums, or monuments on the Music Trail. As it turned out, we only had time and energy for two museum visits: the Mendelssohn House and the amazing Musical Instrument Museum of the University of Leipzig.




The Mendelssohn Museum is located in the house in which he lived for 20+ years. There are a number of period musical instruments in the upstairs apartments along with furniture that he owned. Downstairs are exhibits devoted to his life and work. In addition to his wonderful career as a musician and composer, Mendelssohn also painted very appealing landscape watercolors, many of which are displayed in the house. I had not realized the Mendelssohn was Jewish and that as a result the Nazis had destroyed all of Leipzig's statues and other memorials to him.




Down the block from Mendelssohn's house was the house in which Norwegian Edvard Grieg lived and worked for 30 years. This house is not open as a museum, but has a marker outside and a curious "Grieg-to-go" box where you can push a button and here parts of six composition.





Further down the street is the Musical Instrument Museum. We had tried to visit similar museums in Vienna and Budapest in recent weeks, but both times found them closed. The Leipzig museum was open ... and wonderful! In addition to tracing the history of wind, string, keyboard, and percussion instruments, the museum was filled with musical oddities, such as this "serpent bassoon," with what looks like a brass mouthpiece and a "tongue" coming out of the bell.




We have 100+ photos of instruments and we did not even come close to taking pictures of everything interesting. Here's a selection to whet your appetite, but you'll just have to visit for yourselves!


A particularly attractive clavichord

Compact organ

This harpsichord would travel better than the traditional ones





Glass trumpet/bugle

Mendelssohn and a few others wrote for the "serpent"

Trumpet with (five) keys instead of valves

The display says this is a combination piano/organ with a single keyboard

Piano-harp

Strangely shaped alto horn


Flute with square keys

Strangest trumpet I've ever seen!

And finally, why does the piano keyboard have to be one-dimensional? This "orthotonophonium" arranges the keys in a two-dimensional matrix, just for convenience. Once you figure out the legend at the bottom, you're ready to start practicing!






Sadly, our energy ran out long before the interesting musical sights of Leipzig, so we did not make it to the Schumann House or the Bach Museum. Perhaps we'll be fortunate enough to visit Leipzig again some day to finish our musical sightseeing.

After Leipzig, we hit the road again heading north and west to Magdeburg, Hannover, Hamburg, and up into Denmark. We stopped at a suburban post office in Hamburg to ship a box of books and music home. (After finding out that the Slovak mail service is run by the same people as the Foreign Police, we felt more confident shipping from Germany.) The lovely lady at the window spoke excellent English and made sure that we got the right forms filled out.

We spent Monday night at a little inn that was built in 1610. The original burned down in 1973, but was faithfully reconstructed according to the old plans, but with larger rooms and modern conveniences. A comfortable and cozy stop on a chilly, wet, and windy day.

International economists often talk about the theory of "purchasing power parity," that exchange rates and prices should adjust so that things cost about the same in different countries. Anyone who still believes in purchasing power parity has never visited Scandinavia. On this trip, we spent three nights in Prague very close to the center of the city, two nights in Leipzig in the suburbs, and one night in Denmark in the middle of nowhere ... and our total hotel bill was about the same at all three places! How does anyone afford to live in Denmark or Sweden? Why don't their respective kroner depreciate?

We were curious to see whether there would be any noticeable effects of the migrant crisis on the parts of Sweden we could see. There are. We had a relatively long delay at the border as the immigration agents tried to reconcile our Copenhagen passport stamp (from the flight in), our claims to have been living in Slovakia, and our need to enter Sweden to deliver our car for shipment. After 2 or 3 minutes, I think they gave up trying and decided that we weren't much of a threat even if they couldn't figure us out.

Out hotel is in the very center of Göteborg, located at the corner of a very large shopping mall. We have been through the mall several times, both for shopping and to get to the parking garage on the other side. There are non-Swedish-looking faces everywhere, many of them begging, busking, or just sitting indoors where it is warm. From this limited and casual observation, it is not hard to understand how difficult it is for a small country---even one with a very welcoming attitude---to absorb vast numbers of refugees. How will this all end?

Tonight we celebrate our final night in Europe with Marriage of Figaro at the Göteborg Opera. Maybe I'll offer a few comments about that in my final post after getting back to Portland, but I'm going to close this post now rather than try to update it long after my normal bedtime tonight. Tomorrow will be all about navigating airports, airplanes, immigration, and customs with massive amounts of luggage. We are just hoping to get everything, including ourselves and our sanity, back to Portland safely.

Bye for now, or, as Google Translate claims the Swedes would say, hej då för nu.

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Northward bound I: Prague

Leipzig, 6 February 2016

Albrecht House


This post is mostly about our travels, but first I need to talk about our final full day in Bratislava (Tuesday). We took a break from cleaning the apartment to visit our friends Igor and Vlasta at their Music Forum shop in the old city.


Igor, Vlasta, and my special friend Maša

Around the corner from their shop, at Kapitulská 1, is the former home of Alexander Albrecht (and later his son Ján), one of the leading figures in Slovak music of the first half of the 20th century. He was choirmaster at St. Martin's Cathedral and headmaster of the city music school. He was also a friend and classmate of Béla Bartók, who spent much time in Bratislava (then part of Hungary) in his early life. The Albrecht homes were centers of musical life in Bratislava for most of the 20th century, with what we might call "salon concerts," frequent informal gatherings of local and visiting musicians.

After Ján's death in 1996, the house was vacant and soon began to leak, with a decade of rain reducing the house nearly to a ruin. In 2010, Igor began a campaign called the Albrecht Forum to raise funds to renovate the house. On Tuesday, he gave us a tour through what must have once been a beautiful mansion, but is now mostly an empty hulk. They plan to reconstruct the house to its former glory, with spaces for performances both in an intimate indoor hall and in the outdoor garden. Some renovation has been completed and, if they can continue to raise enough funds to keep going, they hope to finish in 2-3 years.





We took quite a few pictures of the interior of the house as Igor gave us a guided tour. But rather than post our pictures, I want to invite you to view the excellent video on the introduction page of the Albrecht Forum Web site, which features an Albrecht-like character walking through the rooms. You can also find more information on the site about the Albrechts and their role in the music of Bratislava, and, if you are so inclined, donate a few euros to this most excellent cause.

On the road


Wednesday was our departure day, and although we were totally exhausted from making the apartment about 10 times cleaner than it really needed to be, everything went smoothly and we got off around noon.

We had given a bunch of kitchen stuff---both food and utensils---to our friend Lani, who is a Fulbright English teaching assistant in the tiny agricultural town of Rakovice. She was just returning from the Fulbright conference through Bratislava on Monday, so we picked her up at the train station and drove her, with all of our "donations," to Rakovice. But we forgot one large box that was sitting on the stove. So our route to Prague was adjusted to detour through Rakovice, then across the Malý Karpaty mountains on narrow (sometimes one-lane) roads to the Czech border and back onto the motorway to Prague. Not that this was smooth sailing. The Czech motorways are sometimes in such poor condition that they feel worse than tiny mountain roads: Thunkety-thunkety-thunkety-thunk until the fillings are ready to fall out of your teeth.

East of the Vltava


The tourist areas of Prague are divided by the the Vltava River, which winds through the city with the main city square on the right bank and the Prague Castle on the left. Our lovely little hotel was on the right (east) bank, just a block from the Powder Gate, which used to allow entrance through the city walls into the old city.


Powder Gate

Next to the gate is the concert hall of the Czech Philharmonic, the Municipal House. As discussed below, we did not get to hear the orchestra but found another intriguing alternative.


Municipal House
Across the street from the hotel is a lovely pink building. I don't know what it is, but like many of the buildings in Prague it must have a history. Until I hear otherwise, I'm calling "Hobbs Palace."




On Thursday we toured sights near our hotel on the east bank around the main square and the historical Jewish district. Entering the old city through the gate takes one down Celetná Street past a building with a large statue of a "Black Madonna" on the corner of its first floor.




Bohemia seems to have two iconic specialties: crystal and garnets. There are multiple shops selling both in every block of the tourist districts. We have enjoyed window shopping, but the thought of trying to cram crystal into our stuffed suitcases for the flight home without breaking it is too frightening.





The Old Town Hall dominates the central square.




On its west side (the left side in the picture above) is an old astronomical clock that tells time, date, and phases of the moon and zodiac. This one is (supposedly) real, unlike the one we saw last week in Olomouc, which was a Soviet-era concoction.




Next to the clock is the traditional city coat of arms above the entrance doors.




Another large and beautiful building on the square is the Kinský Palace, which now houses collections of the Czech National Gallery, but which used to be a gymnasium attended by a teenage Franz Kafka.




The massive Church of Our Lady before Týn is not actually on the square, but its tall towers dominate the skyline from behind the smaller buildings.




On the north side of the square is the Church of St. Nicholas (east-side version), which is impressive both inside and out. It has magnificent frescoed ceilings, an amazing crystal chandelier, and an organ whose pipes are as much sculpture as musical instrument.








Just to the west of St. Nicholas at the edge of Josefov, the historical Jewish Quarter named after Josef II who stopped the worst of the discriminations against Jews in Prague, is Namestí Franze Kafky (Franz Kafka Square), commemorating the author who lived and wrote in Prague. Of course, Café Kafka now occupies prime space on the square. There is a Kafka Museum (which we did not have time to visit) in another part of the city.




There is a whole tour of synagogues and other sights in Josefov. We walked through and took a couple of pictures of the exterior of synagogues, but didn't end up doing the full tour.





The other major tourist area on the east side of the river is Wenceslas Square, named for "Good King Wenceslas" of Christmas-carol fame. He was indeed a king of Bohemia from 921 until he was killed by his brother in 935. He is buried in a chapel of St. Vitus's Cathedral on the west side of the river. (See below.) We visited the square before leaving Prague on Saturday morning.

The Wenceslas Square of 2016 has many fine buildings, but is mostly shops and hotels rather than anything of serious tourist interest. The National Museum lies at the south end of the square, seen here on a hazy Saturday morning looking into the sun.







The building below is at the north end of the square and is called the Koruna Palace because of the crown that tops its tower.




The pink building below was built by Assicurazioni Generali, an Italian insurance company, and was the place of employment for Kafka for what he reported to be an unpleasant year.





Across the street is the ornately decorated Lucerna Palace, with one of many dozens of Prague book stores occupying the ground floor.




Prague doesn't have as many quirky, contemporary bronze sculptures as Bratislava, but we found one on the square:




Magic Flute, Prague style


We wanted to see and hear music on our northward journey, so a few weeks ago I booked several sets of tickets. I looked into hearing the Czech Philharmonic, but it turns out that they were performing a concert of Broadway music this weekend ... in Bratislava! Looking for alternatives, I found a performance by the Czech National Theater of Mozart's Magic Flute at the Estates Theater just inside the Powder Gate. This opera is especially dear to us because Suzanne played its flute parts for a production in graduate school. I was able to get perfect tickets in the center of the theater for Thursday evening's performance.

The Estates Theater is not the main opera house in Prague; that is a few blocks away. We were not sure exactly why the performance was to be staged there, but we soon found out.


Estates Theater

Stage from our seats

Boxes around the theater

The reason for staging the Magic Flute in the Estates Theater is that it is the only intact, surviving theater in which Mozart actually performed. He wrote the original version of Don Giovanni in Prague and conducted the debut from the harpsichord in this very hall. The Prague Opera uses it for most of its Mozart productions. That history alone made this a very special evening.

The Magic Flute that we saw on Thursday is not just a normal, vanilla Magic Flute. Director Vladimír Morávek has created an outrageous and (mostly) wonderfully twisted production of this famous and favorite classic. He re-imagined and staged the Magic Flute as narrative presented by Mozart to the audience.

In the picture of the stage shown above (taken before the performance) you see a chair and a table with a lighted candle set in front of the closed curtain. Since the opera begins in a forest, Suzanne and I looked at each other with puzzled expressions and wondered what was going to happen. Another puzzling look came when we looked at the cast in the program and found a part listed for "Mozart." Hmmm.

Before the overture began, an actor sneaked onto the stage next to the table wearing rough brown pants and a somewhat dingy white shirt with blousy cuffs. The conductor came on stage and began the overture and as the music proceeded it became clear that the actor was Mozart, as he alternately air-conducted the music and took a quill and frantically scribbled down passages of music.

Immediately after the overture, the voice of an announcer told a story (true or not?) that Mozart had frequent nightmares as a young child and that his father had given him a small recorder, telling him that playing the recorder would banish all the fantasy demons that were threatening him. The stage for this production is set with a wild, nightmarish collage of dragons, three-eyed elephants, and other fantastic and frightening apparitions. As the announcer tells this story, we see a young boy come onto the stage with a recorder, wearing a red waistcoat and white wig of the kind that Mozart wore in many portraits. The boy plays the recorder briefly, then leaves the stage, which then reveals the forest setting for the first scene.

The adult Mozart character stays on stage for the entire opera, conducting, prompting the singers, and sometimes scribbling with his quill. He had one additional role. Instead of using recitative with harpsichord, as is so often done with the spoken lines throughout the opera, the actors actually speak (rather than sing) the lines in German. "Mozart" then speaks the same lines in Czech (with English titles above the stage for those of us who cannot follow either the German or the Czech).

I love the idea of the Mozart character being on stage pretending that he is writing the opera and presenting it to the audience as it goes along. Very clever and intriguing twist. But it tended to get tedious by the latter stages of the first act and into the second, especially the loss of spontaneity at having every spoken line repeated before we hear the responding line (which is then dutifully repeated). You almost expect the actors to finish his line, turn to Mozart, and say "Czech, please." (Sorry, "bad Czech" puns have become a way of life this week!)

The production's biggest surprise is saved for the final seconds of the opera. After two hours of struggling with adversity, Tamino and Pamina have at last found each other, survived their three challenges, and are finally poised to embrace their romantic ending. But as the orchestra plays the opera's final notes, instead of embracing the hero, Pamina leaves Tamino's side and goes to the very front of the stage to embrace Mozart as the curtain drops in front of everyone else! The staging of the play as the composer's personal fantasy is complete---Mozart gets the girl in the end.

This all sounds pretty weird, but despite the unusual staging the music did not get lost or even compromised. Every note was faithfully retained and often brilliantly performed. Marie Fajtová was outstanding as Pamina and Olga Jelinková sang the difficult coloratura role of the Queen of the Night as well as I have ever heard it, live or recorded, maybe better. The male singers were all very good---there were no weak links in the cast---but Jan Šťáva as villain-who-turns-out-to-be-a-good-guy Sarastro caught my ear as being truly impressive, handling the extreme low register of his lines with remarkable volume and tone.

We will never forget this wonderful experience. Wow. I only wish it had come at a younger age so that I would have more years to savor the memory!

West of the Vltava


After spending Thursday on the east side, we walked to the west side of the Vltava on Friday, starting with a hike across the famous, statue-lined Charles Bridge. I was surprised as we walked across to find that the statues vary greatly. Some are stone and some bronze. And the dates on the plinths suggest that they were put in place over several centuries, not all at once. Perhaps this is because the original statues from the 1300s have all deteriorated and required replacement at different times.


East portal to the Charles Bridge


Not very crowded in the morning

Prague Castle and St. Vitus's Cathedral from Charles Bridge





Once across the bridge, we found ourselves at another St. Nicholas Church. I guess that Czechs revere St. Nicholas enough to have two enormous churches dedicated to him on both sides of the river ... and why not? We know him as Santa Claus!


St. Nicholas (west) belfry, with church behind

We got to know the belfry of this church a little more up close and personal than I had planned. We wanted to go into the church, so we went through a door and bought tickets. The ticket-seller then motioned us through an inside door and up a flight of stairs ... and another flight of stairs, then a spiral staircase that seemed like it would never end, then some wooden stairs that were more of a ladder, and on and on. After about two flights we realized that we had bought tickets to climb the belfry, not visit the church! Oops! Suzanne had no problem, but my acrophobia kept me looking straight ahead and holding on all the way up 303 steps, and then all the way down. But I did it! And the views from the top were indeed magnificent.



Lower part of Prague Castle complex from the belfry



Looking back across the Charles Bridge

Once we were safely back to terra firma (thanks be to God!), we did find our way into the church, which was well worth the wait and the detour.



St, Nicholas is high at the top of the alterpiece

Organ or art? How about both?

St. Cyril, perhaps punishing someone who got a Cyrillic letter wrong?

St. Basil, the patron saint of pesto?



A few more blocks of uphill climbing brought us to Prague Castle, high on the hilltop where we could look down on the St. Nicholas belfry!




There are many beautiful buildings and museums in the Castle area---more than a day's worth. One of the most striking is the Schwarzenburg Palace, decorated in black and white sgraffito. It is now an art museum, but with only time and energy for one museum we chose the Sternberg Palace across the street.


Schwarzenburg Palace

Sternberg Palace

No pictures allowed in the Sternberg Palace museum, which was a wonderful collection of paintings mostly from the 14th through the 17th centuries. Then it was on into the castle itself, the first building of which is now the office of the Czech president. He is well guarded by the two nasty-looking statues and by somewhat less intimidating human guards.




This one reminds me of Ralphie with his Red Rider BB gun, all decked out in Aunt Clara's latest costume (once she figured out that he was a boy)!




Inside the castle is St. Vitus's Cathedral, the largest and most important church in Prague. It contains the remains of St. Vitus himself, as well as St. Johann Nepomuk and, in a special chapel on the side of the church, St. (and Good King) Wenceslas!



The rear entrance to St. Vitus's Cathedral


The side entrance, with the Golden Portal





The interior of the cathedral is typically Gothic, without extensive frescoes but with wonderful stained-glass windows and a fantastic organ.


 



Sepulcher of St. Vitus

Grave of St. Johann Nepomuk

The remains of Good King Wenceslas are in the house-shaped red monument to the right

After being awed by St. Vitus, we went around the corner (still inside the castle walls) to St. George's Basilica. Red on the outside, its interior is austere and faded.






On the side, it has a relief of St. George slaying the dragon above a side portal.




As we walked, exhausted, back across the Charles Bridge, we couldn't resist a picture of the National Theater from the water.




Food always tastes better when you have worked up an appetite. The food and wine had been a bit disappointing in our first two days, but Friday's dinner made up for it. We had a wonderful meal in the restaurant of the King's Court Hotel, right next to the Municipal House.

Today was a travel day and a relatively short drive (about three hours) brought us to Leipzig. There were no border controls coming into Germany today, unlike when we crossed the same border in November and had to drive slowly past agents watching for unauthorized persons. We will hear the Gewandhaus Orchestra tomorrow and then tour the musical sights in the center of the city, before heading further north on Monday. I'll post more when I have more to tell you. Until then, auf wiedersehen.