Letter from Prague | All stories

There is an expression about a gnat’s whisker that can easily be applied to the Smrčiny Nature Park area in the far north-west of the Czech Republic. The gnat part is the protruding roughly 20 kilometre long and around 5 kilometre thick section of western Bohemia stretching from the towns of Aš to the town of Hranice. The gnat’s whisker is a tiny enclave found at the very end of this section, a few kilometres west of Hranice, which is about two kilometres long, and at its narrowest part only around three-hundred metres thick. On one side is the

There were supposed to have been around 17 demonstrations in Prague on the November 17 state holiday to commemorate the start of the students’ protest that sparked the Velvet Revolution and the fall of Communism.

Loket is a rather extraordinary historic village situated along a meandering section of the Ohře river not far from Karlovy Vary. Its name translates as “elbow” (or Elbogen in German) and reflects the fact Loket is built inside the extreme curving bulge of this river – were nature allowed to take its course, this village would very likely now be situated next to an oxbow lake, with the extreme bend in the river eroding into a straighter line.

Prague has of course changed in a host of ways during my 20-odd years living here. One of the most striking developments has been the dramatic fall in the number of Romanies in the city.

The Czech Forest – or Český Les – is a thick band of pine forests traversing the entire south-western side of the Czech Republic. Unlike the tourist draws of the Krkonoše mountains to the north or Šumava national park to the south; and unlike the heavily industrial north-western side of the country, this part of the Czech Republic feels decidedly empty, quiet, and even a little lonely. Even getting to a small town like Bělá nad Radbuzou, bordering the southern flank of the Czech Forest, is a four hour bus trip from Prague via Plzeň – such are the

“Why are these bastards lying to me?” is a quote wrongly attributed to the BBC’s iconic interviewer Jeremy Paxman about his approach to politicians. In rectification, Paxman says he approaches the political profession with scepticism but not cynicism. Not everyone lies all the time, he adds.

České Velenice is one of those places that you look at on a map and wonder how such an oddity can even exist. A small town, tucked away in a south-eastern corner of Bohemia, České Velenice is boxed-in on three sides by the Austrian border. Not only that, but it is also situated right next to the far larger Austrian town of Gmünd.

Czechoslovakia’s founder and first president Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk is hugely respected by many Czechs and still referred to as the tatínek (daddy) of the nation. But who was the great man’s own father? According to a book that has received a lot of attention lately, it may have been none other than Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph 1.

I have a fault, if it can be described as such, and am normally too early for meetings and interviews. The problem is that I plan out trips and factor in a very large safety margin for public transport failures, problems finding the right building, and unforeseen events. It was thus that I arrived at the headquarters of the Bohemian and Moravian Trades Union Confederation building on Winston Churchill Square recently and had ample time to contemplate the bulky metal statue of the late British statesman and war hero.

All in all, the Czech Republic is pretty well journalist trained right now. Press conferences usually begin at a civilized time, the optimum being around 10 o’clock; you don’t really have to listen to what the people say if you don’t want to because they usually give out a summary bit of paper before or at the end, and questions are optional.