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Published: June 29th 2016
The flares rained down on the pitch. Scuffles broke out on the Croatia end. The English referee took the players to the far touch line and the game was halted. Croatia were leading 2 - 0. The Croatian players appealed for calm. It was another calamity for UEFA and there so called high security in operation in France. Meanwhile in a bar in Moravia, there was nothing more than a casual glance at the TV ........ and their team, the Czech Republic were playing. The Czech Republic pulled a goal back. The interest was still muted. The Czech team poured forward in search of an equalizer, which arrived in the dying minutes courtesy of a generous penalty. The pub celebrated in almost total silence and went back to the serious business of drinking beer. How different that would have been in England? The roof would have come down with the noise. It was a different UEFA 2016 experience. We are accustomed by the British TV experience to think that world has stopped to watch the tournament. Half the male population of England and Wales took a sick or booked a holiday day off to watch the "match". Here in Brno, the
Palace Hotel
...... cocktails and dreamsvital Czech game seemed to be a minor inconvenience on a Friday night out.
We finished our beers and headed off for something to eat. The area was heaving with bars, but once again it there was no evidence of football viewing. We dined on a very acceptable Italian - it must have been good to attract a crowd into a subterranean basement. We ventured back out into the fine evening, where a big stage was set up in the Main Square. A band played. A crowd of perhaps 400 or 500 were scattered around. A number of stalls were selling wine or beer. Czech beer food was available. The population of Brno wandered around happily - some literally glass in hand, as opposed to plastic cups. We retreated to sample the delights of our top end hotel. The Other Half was impressed by her complementary bath robe. We were awaken, before we dozed off. The room faced the Castle and the night sky erupted with fireworks being in a display over it. Breakfast was the usual fayre with omelettes made to order. "I will bring to you" was the instruction after successful placing of
the order. I sat down and waited. I saw my fayre disappear in the clutches of an American, who had just approached the omelette station. I repeated the order. I took no chances this time and kept a watchful eye on proceedings. It was just as well. My timely intervention prevented a German stealing off with my breakfast this time.
The sun was shining and in the right direction for aerial shots of the town. We paid our 50 Czech Crowns and climbed the stairs of the Old Town Hall. The Other Half to put it bluntly struggles with stairs in towers. She started to panic once in Bologna in Italy, but the real rot set in on a descent on a cliff face in the Drakensburg Mountains in South Africa almost 10 years ago to the day. I have to say that the climb down the Chain Ladders from the Ampitheatre was super scary. She is quick to suggest going up a tower, but regrets it when the time comes to descend. The drama was nothing today - it was only a mere 173 stairs - we would save the panic for later in the week.
A food and drink festival was underway in the other square in front of the Grandezza Hotel. A man dressed as a goat was tempting the public to try his cheese. We popped inside the Cathedral for 10 minutes. The Other Half not content with her first tower of the day, then insisted we do the Cathedral Tower. It was probably ill judged. The stairs were a bit on the tricky side, but the real issue came with the bells. 11 am is Brno noon. The Swedes once had the city encircled for 100+ days, but decided to withdraw if they had not captured it by noon on a certain day. The garrison commander took no chances of calamity in the final hour and had the bells ring noon an hour early. Hence 11 am became the Brno noon. We were up the top of the tower at 11 am. It was loud. After a bit of coaxing, there were still two to continue on our walk round town. We passed back through the square. The Reduta Theatre on one side once played host to an 11 year old Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, back in the day before all artists never
played anything less than an Ice Arena capacity and called audiences "amazing". The main square with the live music from the previous day was still giving an audience to aspiring musicians all day Saturday. Half of the city's population probably passed through at some point during day. A collection of old trams and buses had been brought out for the day. They were doing brisk business ferrying enthusiasts round a circuit of the city centre. The trainspotters were out in force, keen to get a photo of the machines running the tracks again. If you are a connoisseur of Skoda buses, this was your heaven. The local plod busied themselves escorting the steam tram round town. In all honesty you could smell it a mile away, so their blue lights were a bit unnecessary. One of the more peculiar objects in this main square - Namesti Svobody - is the Brno Astronomical Clock. It looks like a large black bullet and very out of place with the general surroundings. At 11 am each day - the Brno noon - it releases a glass marble, which can be caught at one of the 4 openings on it's sides and kept as
a souvenir. We only passed once at 11 am, but never saw the marble. After a brief sojourn to take a photograph of the Opera House, we dined on the open air terrace of a Czech beer hall. The pork was fine, but the salad was a bit fiery. We re-read the menu. It said a "devilish salad". The devil had been in the detail.
We walked down to the train station to familiarize ourselves with layout for our departure. Platform 5, which we required, turned out to be a walk away on to a side part of the station. It was a good reconnaissance mission, as this bit of the station had another tram stop directly outside and saved us 10 minutes with our bags. Mission accomplished, we headed into the shopping centre behind the Bus Station after we finally negotiated a route out the back of the platforms. The Other Half was shocked at the high prices. Beer is cheap. Food is cheap. However, what you would describe as Western brand products are on a par with home. The football club had an exhibition in the centre of the shopping venue on their history and
their vision of the future. A prospective design for a new stadium was drawing interest. I personally think their old name - Boby Brno - was more catchy than FC Zbrojovka Brno, but such are the peril of sport sponsorship.
We walked back through town for an afternoon beverage at "football" bar. Football had been superseded on the TV by qualifying for a Formula 1 grand prix. Motorsports it seems take precedence. As with football the night before, nobody had interest in the TV. A wedding was just finishing at the church opposite. The custom seemed to be for cakes and a liquor to be handed out to guests. A busker abandoned his instrument and made a bee line to gather a free hand out. After some pleading, he was rewarded. The customary photo outside the church was not in vogue. The throwing of rice or confetti was also "out". It had been replaced by blowing bubbles. The ugly sisters bridesmaids were in charge of this process, until one broke her bubble implement. There was a musical rendition of "I'm forever blowing bubbles" to accompany the process. There wasn't really - I just made the
up - although Ms Brady will probably be looking closely at the bubble wedding thing for West Ham themed weddings at the Olympic Stadium. You have to pay the rent somehow! We nipped back to hotel and re-emerged watch some of the live music in the Main Square with a glass of wine in hand. A couple of promotional girls were handing out free cider, so we switched allegiance and went back for a second helping. We studied the cans. Nice reckoned the Other Half. Refreshing. Alcohol free. I can’t honestly see the product taking off with the average Czech! Refreshed, but not under the influence, we made our way to the Italian again for food. As if to complete the repetition of the previous night, the mother of all fireworks displays commenced as we got back to the hotel room.
The omelette poachers were not in evidence at breakfast. We walked up to the Spilberk Castle. The walk through the grounds was pleasant, but obviously uphill. We walked in an Inner Courtyard, where the cast were doing some rehearsal for an evening performance of La Traviatta. There was a lot of hugs and kisses and waving of arms
by Mr Director. The leading lady tried to remain the star by walking around with a ridiculously large sun hat on, even when doing her rehearsal part. We climbed text another tower for a view of the city, which was a bit more overcast than yesterday. After the success of the visit to Villa Tugendhat, we took a leap into the architecture dark in the western suburbs. The 24 hour tram ticket was valid for both of us at only 90 Czech Crowns The first port of call was the Villa Jurkovicova, which was a massive disappointment. The architect was one of the bright young things at the turn of the 20th century, but departed for his native Slovakia after WW1. His legacy - a gloomy villa and a refurb of a girl's school. He had hoped to sell other plots on the site to friends, but only managed to offload one. The restoration of his former family home was best described as a "work in progress". The Villa Stiassny was a whole different ball game. It was built at roughly the same time as Villa Tugendhat by another wealthy Jewish industrialist family. The gardens were reputed to be the
largest in Czechoslovakia between the World Wars. The building was impressive without a Glass Room. Alas Mrs Stiassny wasn't at one with modern interiors and grand as it was, it seemed out of keeping with the exterior. As with the Tugendhats, the rise of the National Socialists made a sharp exit necessary in 1938. The Stiassny family rolled up in California via England and Brazil. They never returned. The Communists made it their own and it was used by the great and the good of the Party for their own purposes. At least the Russians never got to stable their horses in this villa! We returned to town and utilised our tram ticket for a look at Brno F.C. I sensed that it was likely I would pay them a visit for a match.
As part of the loyalty programme for the hotel, we had a voucher to spend on "services". Cocktails were the order of the day. There was a happy hour - 2 for 1 - so the free spend went even further. We sat in chairs akin to something the Beckhams rolled out for their wedding and surveyed the activity in the lobby. Whilst it was
tempting to continue on the cocktail binge, we changed and headed out for a night in football bar. The live music stage was gone. The city centre was generally quieter. There were no fireworks to wake us. We concluded that we liked Brno a lot. A small city with a big welcome. As we left early the next day, the heavens had opened. We watched the rain fall all the way from the train station at Brno to Ceske Budejovice. It had picked a good day to rain. I had ordered it.
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Rainyb
Lorraine Brecht
Is that a horse's head?? Unusual ;o)