Letter from Prague | All stories

Since the 1990s a number of imported holidays - like St Valentine's or St Patrick's - have made something of an inroad in Prague and perhaps other Czech cities, not least because they make fairly decent commercial sense: Valentine's actually a good deal of customers to the florists every February 14th, while St Paddy's helps fill up the city's already heavily visited Irish pubs. But one "holiday" which has made less of an impact, perhaps surprisingly, is Halloween. After many years in the Czech Republic, I must admit that I feel a tinge, just a

Citizens of Prague, and probably of the entire Czech Republic as well, are enjoying a rare moment of what pioneers of civil society came to call the public debate. In spite of the fact that in its recent history the country has had to consider some crucial decisions - joining NATO, becoming part of the EU, sending troops to Iraq, and more recently the possible positioning of American anti-missile radar base and Czech candidacy to host the Olympic Games - none of these truly serious topics seemed to have captured the public imagination as much as

I have made a decision not to write my letter about the weather this time, as the title may suggest, although it is somewhat related. With autumn firmly establishing itself in the city, the weather has become rather uncertain, with sunny days followed by sudden rains. You never really know what to wear and sooner or later you are simply bound to catch a cold. Some members of our staff have already fallen victims to the annual cold season and others are trying to fight it off.

The setting is familiar, the viewing a mixture of pain and delight. Fifteen 'Chosen ones' live in a house for several weeks, isolated from the world and with nothing to amuse themselves with but internal squabbling and buffoonery. Every week, the housemates have a chance to gang up on one or two of their group who has fallen out of favour, and they vote him or her off. Fascinating isn't it?

Prague is very much a centre of culture and proud of the fact that its classical music festivals attract music lovers from around the world. The Prague Spring Music Festival is a highly prestigious international music event and the more recently established Prague Autumn Festival has likewise gained an excellent reputation. Usually concert goers leave with lasting impressions - and come back for more. But occasionally a note of discord creeps in.

I remember as a nervous eighteen-year-old being packed off to Oxford for my very first term with the reassurance of my parents that I couldn't be going at a better time - that autumn there was the fairest of the seasons. I remain institutionalized to such an extent that I still, some years on, associate the autumn with the start of the new school year. The leaves start falling and I sharpen my pencils, buck-up my ideas and dust-off my satchel... or something like that.

Back when I was in my early teens one of my favourite books was J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, which I must have read at least a dozen times. Along with more adventurous passages, one of my favourite chapters was "A Short Cut to Mushrooms" - in which the hobbits make their way across Farmer Maggot's fields and the greediness of hobbits' love of mushrooms is described. That description, I've always felt, would also fit well for mushroom lovers in the Czech Republic, including myself. Mushroom picking here has a long tradition and is something

On the rainy days of early September, when summer is just gone for another year and the bleak, cold months of winter are approaching, people dwell on darkest thoughts and their hearts sink into melancholy. But there is one region in the Czech Republic where locals look forward to the beginning of autumn more than any other time of the year.

Coming out of my house the other day, I noticed with horror that the horse chestnut tree in our street was heavy with spiky green balls. Not that there is anything strange about that. It's just that conkers always remind me autumn is here once again and I start thinking about all those things I wanted to do during the summer but somehow haven't found the time to do so.

When I last lived in Prague a couple of years ago, it was common to find, in the corner of each and every metro station, a stand for the free newspaper Metro. This stand would almost always be apologetically tucked away somewhere, and more often than not, quite empty of newspapers. But in my absence, it seems that free newspapers have launched a major offensive on this city.