First Person
Beauty and the Beat
The fairy-tale city of Prague is ready for its happily ever after
Walking along the charles Bridge at sunset, with statues of saints reflected on the moonlit waters of the Vltava River and forms of embracing lovers silhouetted against the faraway castle lights, it’s easy to forget that I’m passing through a battleground. For all its fairy-tale beauty, Prague remains a city where the battles for Europe’s soul have been waged — battles between East and West, Catholics and Protestants, Bavarian princes and Holy Roman emperors, Axis and Allies, communism and capitalism. Today, with the Czech Republic’s recent admission into the European Union, Prague is again facing a challenge as it strives to prove that a nation smaller in size than the state of South Carolina can become a player in the global economy without losing its independent spirit.It would be a fair guess to assume Prague’s nickname, “The Golden City,” refers to the abundance of yellow baroque buildings clustered along the city’s narrow, cobblestone streets, but the moniker actually stems from a 14th century decree issued by King Karel IV. The king, who established Prague as capital of the Holy Roman Empire, ordered the lead roofs of the city’s walls and towers gilded as a symbol of the empire’s wealth. These days, Czech leaders are advertising the nation’s economic success with a massive building boom. Thanks to an influx of foreign investment, Prague is addressing its traffic and pollution problems, restoring historic buildings and adding new structures to the skyline of a thousand spires. Two of the seven buildings in City Project — a 317,000-square-foot complex of office, retail, entertainment and sporting facilities located outside the city center – have already opened. When the last, City Tower, opens in 2007, it will be the Czech Republic’s tallest building.
The nation’s newfound wealth hasn’t benefited everyone: Unemploy-ment remains at almost 10 percent. However, the economy has rewarded entrepreneurs — both Czech and foreign — particularly in the computer and telecommunications industries. The country’s external trade balance reached the highest level in its 11-year history in May, and consumer confidence remains high: Most Czechs seem to believe better economic times are on the way. Although the Czech koruna continues to fall against the euro, it has risen 12.2 percent against the dollar in the last year, with us$1 now worth about 26.2 koruna.
Things have changed a great deal since 1993, when I first visited the city. The Velvet Revolution had just ended communism in the Czech Republic, and the “velvet divorce” had separated it from neighboring Slovakia. In those days, it was easy to rent an apartment in Prague for $20 a night. Wenceslas Square was still a charming little avenue lined with pushcart vendors and people asking to change money. The whole country seemed to be waking up from a dream. And yet, the city’s sense of self was still intact despite years of occupation by Nazis and Soviets: This was still the city of Dvorak, of Janacek, of Kafka, of Kundera, of towering Gothic churches and fine pilsner beer. This was a city that had the good sense to replace a statue of Stalin with a giant metronome: Politicians come and go, but the beat goes on forever.
Prague has survived the changes wrought by capitalism as well as it withstood the ravages of communism. Neon and Niketown have come to Wenceslas Square, but I could still find a merchant behind one of the dozens of jewelry counters willing to make a deal on an amber ring or a garnet necklace. I didn’t find accommodations — or much of anything else — for $20, but the best things about Prague are still those that money can’t buy: the view of the city from the castle grounds, the mysterious movements of the astronomical clock in Old Town Square, the sight of an accordion player and his dog competing for tips on a street corner.
The best way to see Prague is to get lost. It’s hard to avoid doing this, in any case: In 1968, the people of Prague took down all t
he street signs to confuse the Soviet invaders, and I’m not convinced they put any of them back in the right place. The streets are narrow and crooked and blend into each other without warning, and the buildings look so similar that it requires close attention to determine which one is the theater where Mozart premiered Don Giovanni, for example, and which one is a cafe that opened last year. That’s what’s wonderful about wandering in Prague. I never knew what I would discover as I explored the various legends I had heard about the city.
