Ostrava: Slavic faces, Beautiful places

In my travels I’ve been lucky enough to make new friends and connect with old friends along the way. I tried my best to set up a network of couch surfing in order to release some tension on my bank account and (selfishly) give me built in tour guides to various foreign cities. It’s a highly recommended strategy for any of you would-be vagabonds. Ostrava is one such location and Chris is one such friend. Chris and I worked together at our former Amazon subsidiary, but have both since moved on to greener pastures. Chris’s pasture is currently Ostrava, where he works as a consultant and lives a life of central European luxury in an interesting Czech town that most would not consider to be on the top ten sightseeing tours. Ostrava is within 2 hours of the Polish border and is Czech Republics 3rd largest city.

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A key contributor to energy production, you can see the remnants of the old communist coal mining town that once was. In present day the city has closed its black coal mines and now focuses on more modern methods of energy production and metallurgy, giving it the nickname of “the steel heart of the republic”.My time on Chris’s couch (usually sharing it with his Puggle, Lolly) was well spent as I got to explore a city outside the typical tourist circuit and indulge in more authentic Czech cuisine, scenery and nightlife.

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The highlights of my Ostrava stint include visiting Stramberk castle, a wakeboarding park and several nights spent on the raucous Stoldoni street. Since Chris was given a company car (a sweet Audi)

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he was kind enough to take me to see some sighs outside the city. As I was getting adjusted to the feeling of simply riding in a car again, we were speeding down the unpatrolled Czech highways at over 100mph. One of our first stops was a small lake, which contained a tow-rope wakeboarding park.

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As I normally spend my summers wakeboarding in SC, I eagerly jumped at the chance to try my hand here. Fun ensued, which calls for a video:

Chris also took me to nearby Stramberk, a small town in the Moravian-Silesian region. It lies on the slope of a forested lime hill, dominated by the TrĂºba castle tower. Because of the town’s location, its many historical buildings and a unique collection of timbered houses from the 18th and 19th centuries, the town has nicknamed the Moravian Betlehem. Nearby there is the Sipka Cave where Neanderthal child bone remnants were discovered.

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The Czech castles I visited were decidedly different than those of picturesque fame, these castles seemed more rustic and functional. Old and medieval, most lacked the flair of their western European counterparts but made up for it in history and authentic style. Just below the castle tower in Stramberk, I was able to enjoy some delicious Czech potato pancakes with strong sheeps cheese and a skewer of bacon wrapped chicken. Washed down with the darker variety of Czech pilsner, the delightfully roasty but clean finishing Kozel.

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To cap it all off, just outside of Stramberk Chris and I got to visit the teadional Czech home of his ladyfriends mother in Koprivnice. There we were showed incredible hospitality and given a variety of snacks, including fresh fruit and one of the best (and largest) pineapple (ananas) cakes I’ve ever tasted.

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One of the more enigmatic attractions I Ostrava is the infamous, Stoldoni street. Every Friday night, young and old flock to this one street lined with bars and clubs. Czech youth will travel from hours away by train, bus and car just to see and be seen on Stoldoni.

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Around 2am the street becomes completely packed, a mass or drunken humanity, I’ve seldom seen anything like it. Perhaps the closest comparison would be Halloween night on Franklin St in Chapel Hill, but the mayhem on Stoldoni occurs EVERY Friday night. Everyone is throwing back cocktails and the popular local pilsner, Ostravar, followed up by dancing, rabblerousing, tail-chasing and most likely a Doner Kebap for fourth-meal. The bars don’t close until sunrise as the out of towers stumble back onto trains and trams to head back home, wether its 5 minutes or 5 hours away. Even though English speakers are seldom found, you can still notice their love for western style and culture. I experienced this love in the form of many free drinks, which apparently led Chris and I to become victims of a date-rape drug one cloudy night. No need for concern, we don’t think anything happened to us as we both woke up in Chris’s hotel with our clothing and belongings in tact. The situation simply led to a, “The Hangover”, type aftermath where we spent the entire next day trying to figure out who, what, when, where, why and how we ended up in that condition. Earlier that night, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves at a concert on Stoldoni, here is a quick clip from the Czech bands set, showing their western love with a rendition of Stevie Wonder’s, Superstitious (coincidentally the lead singer is indeed blind):

Train Troubles

I think everyone has that one city that only seems to deal them negative vibes, mine is Katowice. Close to the border with Czech Republic, Katowice is a Polish industrial town and the likely connection stop for any train transport headed through the western border. Being that it is such a hub, you would think they must have a pretty nice station right? Negative Ghostwriter. As I may have mentioned in my last post, Katowice train station is the pits. Confusing, dirty and full of unpleasant shady people, if you find yourself changing trains there, beware.

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As I was making my way to Krakow, my nifty EuroCity train came to a halt in Katowice. From there I knew I had to purchase a connecting ticket for the 2 hour remainder of my journey. Sauntering up to the ticket counter I gave my best travelers smile and asked for a ticket to Krakow. In response to my request I received a cold blank stare. I slowly started to repeat myself but before I could finish the attendant was railing off some Polish, printing a ticket and requesting a sum of money. Of course she wouldn’t be bothered to tell me the train number, time of departure or platform, I was summarily shooed off so she could assist the next person in line. Using the sparse information printed on the ticket (most fields were left blank), I consulted the Arrivals/Departures chart and tried to make sense of the mess. Ultimately I went with my instincts and choose the platform I felt was correct in my gut, I’d been lucky so far. Boarding a much older train than the EuroCity (we’re talking 70s era) and taking an unassigned seat in a musty traditional 4 person train cabin, I settled in for what should be the final 2 hour leg. After about an hour, an attendant came by to punch my stub and the suprise in his face said it all, I had obviously gotten on the wrong train. He didn’t speak English, but his hand gestures indicating I was heading the opposite direction of Krakow told me all I needed to know. I gathered from his broken English that at the next stop I would be switching trains, obviously. What I didn’t realize was how quickly that next train would be departing the station. Slowing down for the next station and before the train had come to a complete stop, I was bring urged out the door by the attendant, frantically pointing and trying to express that I needed to get over to the train 2 platforms away. The quickest suggested method; literally jumping 4 feet down into the greasy train tracks and clambering over metal and concrete with my bag slung over my shoulder… 10 heart-pounding seconds later I made it into the other train just as the car was lurching forward. Relieved to have made it, but frustrated by my mistake, I found a seat and prepared for what would now be a 4 hour trip instead of 2 hours.
6 days later when it came time to leave Krakow, I was headed this time to see a friend in Ostrava, Czech Republic. A shorter journey than before, I approached the ticket counter brimming with confidence, but there it was again, an ominous connection in Katowice. Since there was no direct train with Ostrava, I had to book a ticket to Katowice and hope that I could get my ticket to Ostrava from there. A decent train and a fairly smooth ride to Katowice, so far so good. Once I reached Katowice I again approached the sour old crone in the ticket booth, this time she had pleasure of informing me that the only train departing for Ostrava would be at 11:57pm. At the time it was around 1:00pm. Since I was already there and had no other apparent option (Katowice is apparently technologically isolated as well, so no WiFi) I bought the ticket. Ostrava was literally only 2 hours away, but I wasn’t about to start hitchhiking. So now I had about 12 hours to waste in a small Polish town with no Internet and hardly any English, oh well, Ive had worse layovers in airports. I spent a few hours walking around the area to try a little sightseeing. Once my shoulders were sufficiently aching from the weight of my pack I stopped that nonsense and took a seat on a bench in a quaint little city park.

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There I ended up staying for a good portion of my day, reading and people watching. It’s always interesting to watch people in a foreign country just going about thier business. There were moments I felt as if I was back in the States, but then a passing gypsy or doner kebap vendor would remind me I was still far from home. Needless to say, I got pretty darn bored by the end of that day and as day faded into night I sought refuge in a nearby restaurant. The one positive of the purgatory that was Katowice was that restaurant. I was the only customer and they didn’t serve beer (which at this point I really wanted) but I had the most incredible Polish pancakes stuffed with ham, strong cheese and mushrooms. They looked like burritos but they were far from it.

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Finally, the witching hour had arrived and I boarded my midnight train to Ostrava. It was supposed to be only a 2 hour ride, putting me at my destination around 2am, just enough time to meet my friend Chris for some post-bar late night food. However, Katowice still wasn’t done messing with me. At around 1am I was waging war against the pull of sleep. I couldn’t afford to doze off and miss my stop in Ostrava. I tried music, reading and finally resorted to standing up in the train car. Coming down the home stretch I was starting to lose the battle with the sandman, then we came to an abrupt stop. I looked out the window to confirm that we were not yet in Ostrava and indeed, we were only in a dark train stop somewhere in the outskirts of town. We were stopped 10 minutes, then 20, then 40. When the delay mounted to 2 hours my curious confusion turned to outward rage, but I was too sleepy to do anything about it. Besides, there was literally no one around to ask, or punch. I surmise that this stop was in order to switch tracks and split the train, but an announcement confirming that would have been nice. 4am came around and finally I felt the forward movement of the train. From that moment it was only about 15 minutes to the final stop at Ostrava Hln. I could have walked…oh well, the sun was rising and I hadn’t slept in close to 24 hours. I was simply looking forward to laying down my pack and getting some rest. Hopefully I’ve seen the last of Katowice, but I get the feeling it’s going to be like a bad penny, considering I will be traveling back toward Poland in a few weeks…

Czeching into Prague

Still hazy from my late night and early morning in Kiev, my plane touched down in Prague around 8:00am local time. The weather was stupendous and the airport much cleaner and more organized than in Kiev, there was even free WiFi for crying out loud. Taking much less time to compose myself and acclimate to my situation than my experience the previous day, I took a seat and allowed Google to educate me on the best way into the city. I quickly realized that it is incredibly easy to get around in this town. The buses, trams, subway and train all operate on the same universal ticket which you simply purchase for the amount of time you need (15 minutes-1 week). The electric buses ran right up to the baggage claim so I stepped out the double-doors and hopped on the #100 bus. I purchased a 15 min ticket to take me to the subway station at the end of the line, Zlicin (the airport is still quite a ways out of town). Upon arrival to the Zlicin subway station, it appeared that you could simply walk down and hop on the train, no gates, ticket stalls or security attendants. However, me being a good world citizen, I still proceeded to go to the nearest ticket kiosk and purchased a 30 minute pass so that I could get into downtown with time for mistakes. I would later find out that all Czech public transportation runs on the Honor System, a trusting bunch these Czechs are, which surprises me based on their history of being taken advantage of politically. Once on the train I popped in the earbuds and jammed out to my latest playlist until my train stop showed in glowing LED letters above the door. Out and up I went to surface in New Town, Prague.
It only took me a short walk to find my hotel, I was staying on the south end of New Town, in the Vysehrad area. Since I had just capped off 15 hours of travel, punctuated only by a short night in a Kiev hostel, I decided to spoil myself for some R&R at The King Charles Boutique Hotel (still only $40 a night).

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Once I was, “Czech-ed”, into my hotel my next goal was to find sustenance. Upon a brief investigation of the establishments in my surrounding area, I thankfully found that Prague had all the things I had been missing in Asia: hearty meat dishes, good beer and gravy, ohhhh lord the delicious gravy. Czechs eat their largest meal at lunch and lucky for me it was about 1pm. I had a heaping plate of dumplings filled with chopped pork, smothered in onions and sauerkraut, along with half a liter of Budvar (the original Budweiser). It goes without saying that I ate myself sick. I like to think it was a situation similar to when someone is lost in the wilderness, facing starvation for a time, and you have to ease them back into normal eating habits or they eat themselves to death. Yeah…that’s it, except my wilderness was filled with rice and mangled bits of chicken. So I guess the 160 pound frame and svelt six pack I sculpted over the past 2 months is now going to waste, but I couldn’t care less this was comfort food to the max. Besides ruining my physique, the change of cuisine did wreak havoc on my GI system as well. I usually consider my tummy to be as durable as a leather saddle bag, but the instant transition from Asian food to heavy central European was a little intense even for me. I still enjoyed every kraut drenched dumpling I shoved down my gullet despite the frequent post-meal WC sessions.

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After eating and recovering from the subsequent food coma, I decided it was time for a sightseeing walkabout. Walking only 100 feet down the road and tripping at least a half a dozen times I came to the following realization: Prague is a rollerbladers nightmare. To all you ladies out there, if considering a trip to Prague, don’t even think about packing heels, instead you should consider ankle braces. Almost every street is cobblestone; from large protruding blocks to carefully lain tiles, you are in constant danger of rolling an ankle. The good news is that it keeps those rascally skateboarders off the streets. My second home of Charleston SC is known around the southeast for its “romantic” cobblestone streets, but the roughly 100 meters of cobblestone in Chuck pales in comparison to the miles and miles of toe snagging goodness in Prague. Its also worth noting that in Prague you can get fined for jaywalking and cars appear to have no concern for pedestrians, so mind the tick-ticking of the crosswalks. So while Prague is a very walkable city, please walk at your own risk. As I continued, much more conscious of my footing, I was reminded that i’m a great big nerd about some things and Prague certainly brings out two of those: architecture and beer (blame college for both). As you walk around the city there are towers, statues, spires and friezes everywhere. You obsessively want to take pictures of everything (much like Angkor in Cambodia), but you know that will only lead to a laboring photo upload session later as well as killing your memory card. So I tried my best to hold that itchy trigger finger and try to let my brain just soak in the visual magnificence. A stunning mixture of Gothic, Baroque, Renaissance and Art Nouveau surprises you on every corner. There is even a spattering of the short-lived, “Cubist”, architecture inspired by Pablo Picasso.

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Prague is truly blessed to have largely avoided the destruction of the World Wars, everything is so well preserved. Having visited several other European cities, I can honestly say I have never seen a more amazing and unpredictable mixture of architecture that melds together so beautifully. I was in constant danger of breaking my nose on lampposts as I walked around the city with my eyes drawn upward. Its no wonder why Prague is the 6th most visited European city, my only question is why isn’t it the first? Below are a few of the highlights of my first day walkabout:

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Just behind my hotel was the Vysehrad castle, supposedly the location of the first settlement that later became Prague. Built in the 10th century, many of the original fortress walls still stand. The view above is from one such battlement. Situated within the castle walls is the Basilica of St. Peter and St. Paul, a great example of neo-Gothic.

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The, “Dancing House”, one of the more extreme examples of modern architecture (Deconstructivist to be exact) in Prague. This building was built on top of one of the few sites that was destroyed in WWII bombing. A collaboration between, Canadian-American and Croatian-Czech architects, the building is supposed to resemble a pair of dancers (Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers).

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The National Theatre, amazing neo-classical, with larger than life statues surrounding the golden roof.

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A view across the Vltava river of the famous Charles Bridge, Petrin hill and Prague Hrad (castle).

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Shots from Charles Bridge. The bridge is lined with statues and various street vendors catering to the tourists, everything from musical performers to caricatures. At each end of the bridge is a dominating gate tower.

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After crossing the Charles bridge on your way to Prague Castle, you must first climb the hill. As steep and exhausting it may be, the panoramic views of the city are worth the ascent. From the walls of the castle you see rooftop after rooftop of Baroque red tile roofs.

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From the castle vantage point (and with a long range zoom) you can capture almost every major landmark in Prague, including the infamous Zizkov television tower. Built by the Russian commies during the Cold War era, it was originally considered an eye-sore and a bad memory of the communist occupation, however it appears to have grown on the locals and it serves as a great tourist attraction for more panoramic views of the city. It now sports several statues of crawling babies which you can barely see in the photo.

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Once inside the castle, after entering through the overly violent front gate, you are confronted by the towering gothic, St. Vitus Cathedral, the most important church in all of Czech Republic. This church houses the remains of Bohemian Kings and Holy Roman Emperors.

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Back across the river and into the heart of Old Town, there is the famous Astronomical clock. Installed in 1410, it is the third oldest astronomical clock in the world and the oldest one that is still working.

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This is the statue to commemorate famed Prague resident Franz Kafka. In the square surrounding the astronomical clock there is a cafe where Kafka and Einstein used to have coffee together. Kafka once famously quoted, “Prague never let’s you go…this dear little mother has sharp claws”. I can relate, ever since I’ve visited I want to go back.

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Wenceslaus Square, the hub of shopping and party going tourists in Old Town Prague. Later in my visit to Prague I stayed in a nice Hostel overlooking the square.

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Various artistic statues, with penises included. Some artists prefer to leave the male anatomy off or cover it with a fig leaf, it is apparent that the Czechs feel no such shame about the twig and berries. The statue of the boy was placed in front of a children’s museum and included a shining golden rod.

As for the Beer, or as the Czechs call it, Pivo, it is not served by the pint but by the liter. Half liter of the freshest pilsner being most common. On average, I was consuming 2-3 liters of beer a day (its recommended that you consume 1.9 liters of water a day), not because I wanted to be drunk, but because this beer was so incredibly fresh and refreshing and cheap that it was far superior to the conventional water. Being a homebrewer myself (and trying to reason my consumption), I can tell you that beer is mostly water anyway.

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There is no sour or bitter taste, not even a lingering hint of alcoholic tang on your palette, unlike so many so called pilsner beers in the states. You can literally chug this stuff like mineral water, which I did, on the reg, anytime I was parched from walking around the city or needing to wash down some savory meat and dumplings. Which reminds me, it’s time for dinner! Aside from swilling their world famous Pilsner, every traveler to Czech Republic must also have the goulash. Obviously this was my go-to option for my very first dinner in Prague. Goulash differs in most European countries, the Czechs prefer theirs with slow cooked beef covered in a brown gravy with sliced raw onion and accompanied by a heavy dose of dumplings. The beef is tender, the gravy is savory and the dumplings are like a doughy half-cooked sliced bread.

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After dinner my eyelids were heavy and my feet were sore, so made my way back to the King Charles Hotel for some much needed rest. Since Prague sits roughly on the same latitude as northern Canada, the sun refused to set until close to 10pm (and it rises around 4am), but my travel weary body was ready to hit the cushy comforts of a European bed before the sky had even darkened. As my head hit the pillow and drifted into semiconsciousness I dreamily recounted my first day in central Europe: a favorable currency, a clean city, great weather, scrumptious food, and stunning sights. I believe I fell asleep with an insatiable urge to shave the sides of my head, buy some loose fitting Capri pants and put on an extra extra small t-shirt in the attempt to make myself a local.