Czech mate
Barry Ger takes a gamble on a guide in Prague
T HERE I was in the centre of Old Town Square in Prague, searching for a golden dog with a shiny nose, when I met Keith.
To say he looked out of place is an understatement. He was standing in front of the Astronomical Clock under a green umbrella in a green T-shirt, seemingly impervious to the cold wind that was whipping over the paving stones on that wintry December afternoon.
“There’s absolutely no catch,” he assured me in his US accent between mouthfuls of bratwurst. “It’s completely free but you can give me a tip at the end if you enjoy it.”
Keith was referring to a tour he would lead around Prague Castle, a Baroque construction dominating the Prague skyline that looks like something out of a Disney movie. He would even throw in a tram ticket to spare my legs the walk up the steep Hradcany (Castle Hill).
Having just arrived in Prague the previous night on a shoestring budget, I had sought the services of the free tour companies that meet with cash-strapped tourists outside the Old Town City Hall.
I had already given up on using the out-of-date guidebook I had hauled along from South Africa. All I had learnt from it was that, somewhere in Old Town, there was a statue of a dog and if one rubbed its nose, one would have good luck.
I was a little sceptical of an American taking me around a Czech city but by the time the Astronomical Clock had gonged 2pm and disgorged its little statues of the 12 Apostles that enter and exit the clock every hour, a crowd had gathered round him and I decided to go along with them.
Even though I had not yet touched the dog’s nose, this decision turned out to be a lucky one.
Keith was a funny and knowledgeable guide. More importantly, I could understand what he said — a quality many Czech guides lacked with their heavily accented English.
He told us he had come to the city 20 years before and had fallen in love with it, along with one of its inhabitants. He now lived the Bohemian lifestyle in Bohemia (as the Czech Republic was known cen- turies ago), introducing visitors to the delights of one of Europe’s most interesting cities.
Our first stop was the Charles Bridge, a magnificent stone structure lined with statues of saints, spanning the Vltava River, which connects the two sections of Prague.
As we crossed it, Keith pointed out the statue of St John of Nepomuk, a priest who had counselled the Bohemian royal family. He was canonised for preserving the sanctity of the Confessional, a cause for which he had ultimately been drowned in the Vltava. As legend has it, he was executed after refusing to divulge to the jealous king the identity of the queen’s lover, which she had supposedly confessed to him.
“Many believe the culprit was none other than St John himself,” Keith said, “and by keeping silent, he was merely trying to save himself from a more painful death.”
The castle was not only home to the kings of Bohemia but also remains the official residence of the Czech Republic’s current rulers.
When we made it up Castle Hill, we were in time to see a Changing of the Guard ceremony in which stern, blue-uniformed Czech soldiers marched stoically past each other along the courtyard.
The castle is known to house many art treasures, including the Czech crown jewels but, unfortunately, I was not to see them. Most of the buildings were closed that day for some political ceremony. It was no problem, though, as Keith took us around the grounds and told us fascinating stories about each of the sites.
Prague is known as the City of a Hundred Spires and one of the most impressive is the one atop St Vitus Cathedral, the building of which began in the 14th century and was only completed in the 20th century. As testimony to this, men in business suits appear alongside tonsured monks on the friezes that decorate its exterior.
On the way back, crossing the Charles Bridge, I finally found the statue of the dog with the shiny nose. “Is it true I will have good luck if I rub it?” I asked. “More likely influenza,” Keith replied, gesturing to the many tourists who were brushing their hands over it. “That dog’s nose is shiny for a reason.” I touched it anyway. When Keith had finally guided our group back to the starting point, I tipped him generously.
Three days later, I came down with the flu.