Czech Republic - Twice As Nice

Back in December 2007, safe in the knowledge that Scotland were left without a finals tournament yet again in 2008, and told by Helen's mate Lisa that she had a week to play with in mid-June, we took the plunge and booked a week's non-football holiday to see the sights and drink the beer in Prague.

Fast-forward three months to the end of March, and the SFA in their wisdom choose the Easter weekend (when many of us are staying elsewhere, far far away from the internet...) right before the Croatia home game to announce an end of season game away to the Czechs! Still, there are worse places to have to keep going back to, so we booked up for another week (well, Monday-Saturday).

With hotel loyalty points to burn, and our June stay booked in more modest lodgings, we plumped for 3 nights in the Crowne Plaza just behind the castle (in an old Strahov monastery building), with the last two down in the thick of it at the palatial Marriott on the edge of the Old Town.

After a minor delay at T5 (which only meant more wine!), the flight flew by and Helen and I were soon ensconced in the hotel, surrounded by the Czech national side who were also staying there. Having Jan Koller wish us “Dobry Vecher” in his shorts and flip flops was a bit surreal! We'd arranged to meet Rich, who'd arrived earlier that day, in a wee bar called U Klicu at the foot of the hill in Mala Strana, but still found time to stop for a cheeky one at the famous U Cerneho Vola opposite the Loretta pilgrimage church. Then it was down the steps and along to the rendezvous, where Rich was halfway through his first Budvar. He'd spent the day wisely, trekking out to Eden to pick up match tickets for the Czech v Lithuania game the next night then taking in Dukla Prague (not the original version!) host Fotbal Fulnek in the Czech 2nd Division. After a leisurely evening, we left at kicking out time (not that it takes much to kick out 5 people!) and headed over the road to U Maleho Glena where we drank with host of drunk nubile Americans and a very friendly French guy, before Helen and I retired for the night to work out the night tram timetable (rather than struggle up the massive hill) and Rich girded his loins for a night (and a bit of the morning) on the tiles.

Rich's late night caught up with him and he missed the original rendezvous, but soon caught up with us and the arriving Wullie Anderson, who we'd also procured a Lithuania match brief for. After lunch in the very posh Olympia, a “tank” pub just over from the National Theatre, and a couple in the wee Radegast place over the river, we headed out by tram to the pub next to Bohemians ground. This place has definitely poshed up since we last darkened its door, however the beer was cold and cheap (as were the crisps that Wullie was wolfing down for sustenance, having eschewed “real food” earlier on. A swift walk to the ground followed, pausing only for a soggy pizza slice, leaving just enough time for a cheeky beer in the cafe by the ground, with us taking our seats in the impressive rebuilt Eden Stadium. The Czechs eventually ran out 2-0 winners against a challenging Lithuania side with enough guile (and not quite enough composure at the last) to give Cech a headache in the home goal. The other Scots in the stadium (believed to be NOSTA – we saw John Ward in the back of a cab as we were climbing fences off the main road) seemed to disappear well before the end of the game, wisely perhaps given how stowed the bus and tram stops were, so we made our way back down towards Bohemians. Having passed half-dozen or so bars in varying states of closure, we eventually found a Herna (aka “Puggy”) bar – you do have to be wary in these places, so when the waiter swiped the price list after we ordered, we made sure we paid on the spot to avoid being ripped off. After a comical discussion with a drunk elderly local English teacher and a conversation in German with a Czech in an England shirt, we made our way out to catch a tram with a load of Bosnians (it was that kind of night). Wullie was dropping on his feet after a lengthy journey (not to mention an even earlier start to watch ice hockey's Stanley Cup on the telly), so with the exception of clubber extraordinaire Rich, the rest of us made our excuses and retired for the evening.

Wednesday saw Helen and I potter around up by the castle for a while, taking in the Loretta Church and the Strahov Monastery (specifically, the spectacularly expensive brewpub inside) before heading out by tram to an area called Brevnov. Rich joined us in the pub at Brevnov Monastery tram stop (U Klasterna) for some soup and a beer, then we made an abortive attempt to find the pub in the monastery itself which turned out to be closed for refurbishment. Ally and Susan were in town by now, but declined to trek out to Brevnov as “it's halfway back to the airport and we've just come from there!”, so we agreed to meet in Holesovice later on. With the failure to find the monastery pub open, the tram ride back into civilisation seemed a little dry (and a little lacking in facilities), so a couple of stops back into town saw us make a pit-stop at Peter's pivnice for some 19Kc Staropramen and a look at the FC Dragoun Brevnov photos on the bamboo wall.

Back in 1999 for the 3-2 qualifier defeat against the Czechs, Helen and I rented an apartment in the Holesovice area along with Rich and Welsh Steve – as a result, we've always had a soft spot for the area ever since. And now, despite a list of decent pubs to try in Holesovice courtesy of the Good Beer Guide, we only make it as far as Na Melniku, a tank pub just up the hill from the main drag. It turns out that this is a place Helen and I have been to before (during our legendary 5-day pub crawl in 2003), and we settle down in the back room for some beer and goulash and the rendezvous with Ally and Sue. The England v USA friendly was being shown on the telly, and the beer was exceptional, so we stayed put for the rest of the evening whilst Rich broke out his masterplan and plotted a route to that evening's nightclubs for once the rest of us had turned in.

We'd agreed to meet up for lunch in the famous Pivovarsky Dum the next day before heading out to the suburbs again, however in the meantime Helen and I had to move digs from the fantastic Crowne Plaza by the castle to the flagship Marriott in the Old Town. The Marriott was a freebie courtesy of some loyalty points left over from paying for the Georgia hotel, however we instantly regretted moving due to the snobby attitude of the staff (nobody wanted to check us in at first – they obviously thought our kilts were lowering the tone!) and of the other residents (who were mostly conference attendees, i.e. staying there on work expenses and not paying their own way either). Nonetheless, we were eventually checked in and on our way to the brewpub, surprised to see Rich had actually beaten us there!

After some filling food and a tasting pallet of the 8 beers, we headed up to IP Pavlova and onto Tram 11 out to Sporilov (after a close shave where a local had to point us in the right direction!). At the end of the tram line, in what looks like an old ticket office/service building, is an unusual pub called Prvni Pivni Tramway (“First Beer Tramway”), half of which is done up to look like the interior of an old tramcar. Ally and Susan were impressed with the heavy metal music and Jethro Tull tribute band posters, although Rich was less enamoured, and I was happy with the beer (Primator Weizenbier, in case you're interested), however after a couple of drinks (and a good look at the décor of the Gents toilet, with sketches of ladies' pubic styles complete with names) it was time to head halfway back into town as far as Horka tram stop. As we trekked up a massive hill, Ally's detailed street map came in very handy and reassured us that it wasn't a wild goose chase, and a short while later we found our way to U Klockonicka, a locals' beer hall in the residential streets of Nusle. This place not only provided us with the cheapest beer of the trip (10 degree Kacov beer was 15Kc, or 17Kc for the 12 degree version – just be warned, if you're ordering the kvasnicove (yeast beer) version, be prepared to wait a wee while!), but also some excellent fried cheese and chips. The next pub on the crawl, Na Paloucka, was a 15 minute walk around the corner, and turned out to be a wee bit of a disappointment, although certainly busy enough. What we didn't know at the time (but do now after our June visit) is that a brand new brewpub called Basta had just set up shop one tram stop down the hill!

By now we were getting texts from Bruce, who had arrived Thursday afternoon avec famille. We opted to head back into the centre of town, and plumped for U Medvidku (the Budvar/brewpub opposite the big Tesco). Several texts later (stopped for food, gone tourist sightseeing in the dark, don't wait for us etc), Bruce and his gang were eventually lured to the pub shortly after Rich had headed home for a clean shirt and some aftershave before he hit the tiles. The central location of the pub made for a sociable evening, with Andy Pollard and Gus passing through (they were staying upstairs), and the long lost Hit Man of the NATA Inverness Branch, Brian, even made an appearance sporting a Rolling Stones tattoo that would have impressed the absent Rich. I confirmed Bruce's table reservation in Pivovarsky Dum for the next day – he'd promised his parents the nettle beer experience, but the rest of us had agreed to stay closer to the ground – and we called it a night just after midnight.

Back in Holesovice the next morning, Helen and I opted for pizza before heading up the hill to meet Ally and Susan, who had set up shop at a pavement cafe near the ground. After meeting up, we picked an inviting sounding place from the Good Beer Guide called “Bastard” right around the corner, texted everyone we were due to meet up with, then headed off only to find it had changed into a cocktail bar that didn't open until 4pm! Back to the drawing board, and a small place in the book described as selling Klaster beer (which Helen and I had tried out in Brevnov a couple of days previously) jumped out at us – what a find! Knocking out Klaster 12-degree beer at a very reasonable 18.5Kc, and not 10 minutes walk from Sparta's ground, the back section of the pub was shady, painted green and boasted windows that look like they're made from recycled beer bottles. All of this, and the cutest wee barmaid in Prague to boot! Helen and I had to duck out to pick up match tickets, so we left Ally and Susan guarding the table and our beer ticket and headed out into the 3pm sun. After passing Rich en route, and giving him directions to the pub, we picked up our briefs from Alison and bumped into Wolfie (from Vienna) at the box office, taking him along with us back to the pub. Kenny, Ray and son made a brief appearance, still swigging from the carry out that had sustained them up the hill, and they took Ally and Susan to the Svijany pub a few doors along for some food, just as Bruce, Sharon, Betty and Bob joined the fray (followed shortly by Kev, Craig, Paul and Jamie Baker). By this point, we were also in conversation with an elderly shirtless Irishman and his Czech friend, and they were lending their own opinion to the book's recommendations.

Come 5pm, it was time to pay up and head around to the ground for the game, due to kick-off 30 minutes later. No queues to get in, but the upstairs section was already filling up, so Helen spotted enough seats across by the fence behind the goal for us all to sit together, although Ally and Sue ended up getting waylaid and stayed further down the front. The game itself never really ignited, with the high temperatures causing problems for both teams, with the Scottish contingent tired after a long season, and the Czechs all keen to avoid over-exerting themselves ahead of the Euro 2008 opener 8 days later. Bruce and his father disappeared after around 30 minutes to do a beer run and didn't resurface until 15 minutes into the second half, around the same time the Czechs took a deserved lead through ex-Rangers legend Libor Sionko. Three goals in the last ten minutes, including a cracking turn and shot from substitute debutant David Clarkson, meant the 3-1 scoreline flattered the game, but there was no complaints about the Czechs deserving to win, and the Scotland team seemed genuinely grateful for the support at the final whistle.

After the customary delay in exiting the ground, during which I unwisely decided to spend 40Kc on a “gristle dog” (the best value sausage I've ever had – I was still tasting it 4 hours later! And so was everyone else sitting near me!), we headed back towards the Svijany pub. The place was full, mostly with Czech fans (so that's what the 30 minute delay was for – to allow the locals to fill all the best pubs!), so it was back to the Klasterni Pivnice. By chance, two tables had just been freed up, so everyone else grabbed the big table, and Ally, Rich and myself took the “Dominoes Table” and (allegedly) spent the next hour looking like grumpy old men (we were actually discussing the merits of the barmaid, whether she'd fit in my hand luggage, and whether Helen would let me take her home – to serve us beer in our living room, nothing adulterous!). Bruce and his dad were treated to a free whisky by a friendly local, possibly the bar owner, and then everyone bar Helen, Rich and me headed around the corner (along with Kev, Craig and co) to Na Melniku for food and more beer, whilst we finished up and paid our bill, ending up with more free whisky (and beer for me).

Na Melniku was even busier than two days ago, and after more beer and a bite to eat, we headed towards Wensclesas Square with Ally and Susan (Bruce and family were turning in for the night and Rich was heading for a club) and against our better judgement, and everyone else's recommendations, we decided to try The Shamrock, which was hosting a Scottish party arranged by Scotty, an ex pat living and working in Prague. It's fair to say it wasn't really to my taste, particularly the 70Kc Krusovice battery acid, so Helen and I headed back after just the one, pausing only to say hello to the Prestwick Tartan Army in the street outside.

Saturday involved a long lie, a late checkout (oh, how the Marriott begrudged giving us that!) and a tube out to Dejvicka metro. Before catching the airport bus (which we managed to tie in with Bruce, Sharon, Betty and Bob), we grabbed a beer and some food in the surprisingly trendy Pod Loubim bar just up the road.

So, all in all, a different week from previous Prague experiences, with a lot more venturing out to the suburbs and off the beaten track, but a lot of fun, and it's definitely re-ignited my love of Prague. As I write this, we've already been back for the follow-up week in June, and now it's simply a question of WHEN and not IF we will return...

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