We used a bit of Czech to venture by train outside of Prague to see two royal castles. Karlstejn Castle, founded in 1348, was home to Charles IV, a Czech king and Holy Roman Emperor. Standing in the king's audience hall, in his bedchamber, and standing in the dining hall was majestic.
As part of my ongoing obsession with Prague's doors, I offer this detail from another castle, at the more remote Krivoklat, also home to Charles IV but dating back to the 1100s. It has stunning beauty (as seen below) but also a dark side, a hungering room for starving prisoners to death, an ample array of torture devices from the rack to the iron maiden to dunking cages. The prison was a home, a hunting lodge, a horrible prison, and later the Furstenburg family added a gorgeous library with 53,000 books in many languages (Latin, Czech, Italian, French, Hebrew, and more).
Krivoklat: Our boundless sense of adventure led us to a remote, shuttered train station and down little-used trails to this amazing castle.
My oldest son has caught my love of doors . . . or else it looks like he's caught something else.
After eating some schnitzel and being assured a train would arrive at the abandoned station, we could smile.
This mural shows the level of the water during a flood of the Berounka River, but even before coming to Prague we were enchanted by Vodnik, the water man from Czech fables, who is seen here. He is protective of rivers but also mischevious. We encountered him in research of the famous Czech marionettes and have seen him, too, in the puppet stores. Last night, we saw Mozart's Magic Flute at the National Marionette Theater with friends of friends from Portugal. The puppets, scenery, and music were brilliant.
My three guys on the famous Charles Bridge (Karluv Most), a memorable night.
My sons said that the Kafka museum "creeped them out," but they seem to have recovered. His writing is relevant to my dissertation, and the ideas of internal and external topographies and existential spaces in the exhibit intrigued me.
At the request of my sons, we stopped briefly at the KGB Museum, which "creeped me out." I think they quickly realized that real espionage is not at all like the Spy Kids movies.
After climbing the Petrin Hill tower, a mini-Eiffel Tower, we played at this playground, which has the same red webbed equipment as the elementary school near our New Hampshire home. Everything is the same . . . and yet very different . . .
. . . as seen in this window sign at the KFC down the road (across from McDonald's and Starbucks). We've done our best to eat schnitzel and goulash. Next on the menu . . . tripe soup!
It's impossible to fit the façade of the Saint Vitus Cathedral, sitting inside the walls of the Prague Castle, into a single frame. The Gothic, neo-Gothic, and Baroque architecture is amazing. I loved the colorful stained glass, and my boys loved the trip into the royal family's crypt. There's no accounting for taste!
Ducks on the Vlatava River with the Charles Bridge in the background. Swans swam nearby.
We have skipped the art museums, but the art came to us. This sculpture by artist-provocateur David Cerny is called Proudy (Piss) involves two men urinating in a puddle with the water spelling out famous quotations from Czech literature. The puddle is shaped like the former Czechoslovakia. My sons were . . . intrigued!
Tamino, accompanied by his sidekick Papageno, receives the magic flute from the Queen of the Night to aid in Tamino's search for the kidnapped princess Pamina in Mozart's opera. We've worked with Czech, English, French, Latin, and German here. Tonight my youngest said he wished he could stay a whole year in Prague, a true tribute from my most shy son, who sat in the second row between two strangers at the National Marionette Theater's production to get the best view of all the magic Prague has to offer.
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