Ricky Yates

View along a side street in Central Bucharest © Ricky Yates

I spent a further 24 hours in Bucharest following our Archdeaconry Synod meeting, not least because flying back to Prague on Monday afternoon was far cheaper than flying back on Sunday evening! I used the time exploring the city centre by bus and on foot, and I hope that these photographs will give readers of my blog, some impression of what Bucharest is like.

Looking at the photograph on the left, it would be very easy to think that it was taken in Paris or another French city, rather than in Bucharest. And many of the most attractive buildings dating from the latter half of the nineteenth century and the early part of the twentieth century do display a French architectural style. This is because of the strong French-Romanian links during this time period with many French architects working in Romania and Romanian architects training at French architectural schools.

Below are three more examples of attractive buildings in the French architectural style all located within Central Bucharest. As can be seen, they have each been renovated in recent times after many years of neglect during the communist era.

Romanian Atheneum, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

Central University Library, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

Military Officers Club, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

The French influence even extends to a small version of Paris’ Arc de Triomphe. The Romanian version pictured below, celebrates the re-unification of the country in 1918 at the end of the First World War. Alongside the photograph of Bucharest’s ‘Triumphal Arch’, is a view along another city centre side street which once more illustrates the influence of French nineteenth century architecture. However, the photograph also shows more recent Czech influence with the Staropramen Beer logo featuring on the sun awning and sign of the street-side bar-restaurant!

Triumphal Arch, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

Side street in Central Bucharest with a Staropramen Bar © Ricky Yates

However, as in Prague and the other capital cities of the former Warsaw Pact countries of Central and Eastern Europe, you cannot avoid seeing the impact of over forty years of Communist rule. Below is a photograph of Casa Presei Libere/Press House, a wonderful example of Stalinist-Baroque architecture, completed in 1956. During the period of Communist rule, all print media emanated from this building, hence it was always known informally as the ‘House of Lies’.

Casa Presei Libere/Press House, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

This building in the photograph below, is a large Communist era Conference Centre, built to facilitate the holding of Communist Party Congresses.

Communist era Conference Centre, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

The Communist Party leader of Romania from March 1965 until he was overthrown in the revolution of December 1989, was Nicolae Ceausescu. Following a visit to North Korea in the early 1970s, Ceausescu embarked upon an extraordinary scheme to refashion an entire section of Bucharest according to his own megalomaniacal vision. As part of the scheme, about one sixth of the capital’s buildings were demolished, many of considerable historicity including thirteen Churches.

The pinnacle of Ceausescu’s scheme was the construction of the second-largest building in the world (after the Pentagon in Washington), now known as the Palace of Parliament. Started in 1984 but never completed, it has 12 storeys and 3100 rooms and covers an area of 330,000 square metres.

Palace of Parliament, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

From the Palace of Parliament, a four kilometre-long boulevard was created, deliberately designed to be a few metres wider than the Champs-Élysées in Paris. All this was done to satisfy the egotistical whims of Ceausescu and his wife Elena, around whom was built a major personality cult.

The boulevard leading from the Palace of Parliament, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

Ceausescu was overthrown in the revolution of December 1989. Still under the delusion that he was popular with the Romanian people despite a revolt in the western city of Timisoara, Ceausescu tried to address the crowds from the balcony of the headquarters building of the Central Committee of the Communist Party on 21^st December 1989. A few minutes into his speech, instead of cheers and applause, the crowd began to boo and heckle him. Unable to control the crowd, he withdrew from the balcony into the building.

The former headquarters of the Central Committee of the Communist Party in Bucharest with the balcony from where Nicolae Ceausescu made his last speech © Ricky Yates

The crowd outside was broken up by military force using live ammunition which resulted in the death of many of the protesters. The following day, Ceausescu tried again to address the crowds who had once more gathered outside the building. This time, they responded by throwing rocks and missiles and eventually broke into the building, forcing him, together with his wife Elena, to flee by helicopter from the roof. A couple of days later, the couple were arrested, put on trial for two hours before an Extraordinary Military Tribunal, given death sentences and then shot by a three man firing squad.

Memorial to those killed in the December 1989 revolution outside the former Communist Party HQ © Ricky Yates

Fortunately, despite all that Ceausescu and his regime did to the city of Bucharest, many Orthodox Church buildings have survived. Here are two examples that I was briefly able to visit and photograph.

Cretulescu Church, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

Romanian Orthodox Church, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

And finally, here is a third example which, as you can see, is currently undergoing restoration work. This Church belongs to a Romanian Orthodox Convent and where several of us had the privilege of listening to a small group of young nuns sing Vespers on the evening of Sunday 25^th September.

Romanian Orthodox Convent Church under restoration, Bucharest © Ricky Yates

Footpath through Ceský les © Ricky Yates

We spent the second week of our recent holiday, Tuesday 19^th – Sunday 24^th July, staying as we had previously done in October 2010, in a delightfully restored house dating from the first decade of the twentieth century that belongs to Jack, an Irish member of the St. Clement’s congregation. It is situated in the somewhat unusually named village of Babylon, which lies between the town of Domažlice and the German border, in the far west of Bohemia.

The nearby range of rolling wooded hills are known as Ceský les which is sometimes anglicised as ‘Bohemian Forest’. These hills are far lower than the Krkonoše Mountains, the highest point being Cerchov at 1042 metres. The border between the Czech Republic and Germany runs along the top of the hills which are known as the Oberpfälzerwald where they extend across the border into Bavaria.

Footpath through Ceský les © Ricky Yates

Ceský les and the surrounding border area was part of the Sudetenland from which the Sudetendeutsche population was expelled following the end of the Second World War in 1945. It was never really re-populated as, following the Communist coup in 1948, it became a restricted zone where only trusted supporters of the regime such as members of the secret police, were allowed to live and work. The average Czech citizen was not allowed to set foot in this border area for fear that they might try to escape from their Communist paradise to the capitalist state of neighbouring West Germany.

One very positive consequence of this lack of human activity for a period of over forty years is that the natural flora and fauna were allowed to flourish almost completely undisturbed. Now Ceský les has protected status as a National Park thus preserving this wonderful environment whilst making it available to walkers and cyclists who can explore its beauty by following a whole series of waymarked routes that traverse the area.

The village of Pec © Ricky Yates

During our walks in Ceský les, we twice walked through the village of Pec, (pronounced ‘pets’) which gave us a sense of déjà vu having stayed in Pec pod Snežkou in the Krkonoše Mountains the previous week. As I explained in that post, ‘pec’ means furnace as this village also once had a furnace for the smelting of locally mined iron ore. The correct full name of this ‘Pec’ is ‘Pec pod Cerchovem’ meaning ‘the furnace under the mountain Cerchov’. Sybille actually suggested that I should entitle this post ‘From Pec to Pec’!

Mural on the side of the hospoda in Pec © Ricky Yates

Calvary in the village of Pec © Ricky Yates

Within the village we both enjoyed this mural painted on the side of the village pub or hospoda. Whilst it is five kilometres to the top of Cerchov, it is only five metres around the corner to the entrance of the pub! Which direction would you prefer to walk? Also in Pec is this Calvary with somewhat unusual artwork compared to what one commonly sees in the Czech Republic.

Church in the village of Trhanov © Ricky Yates

Another attractive village that we also walked through twice was Trhanov. In the centre of the village is this recently renovated (at least on the outside) Church. As ever, we could not access the interior as the doors were locked.

Restaurace U Svatého Jána in Trhanov © Ricky Yates

Also in Trhanov, we enjoyed liquid refreshment and, on our first visit, shelter from a sudden heavy shower, in Restaurace U Svatého Jána. This Bar-Restaurant has a most delightful location, just down from the Church and overlooking a small lake.

The Ceský les is remarkably attractive and unspoilt area and very peaceful. It does get visitors, both native Czechs and Germans from across the border. But they are not overly numerous and we only met a handful of other walkers and the occasional mountains bikers during our walks along the various waymarked trails.

Rübezahl outside Hospoda na Peci in Pec © Ricky Yates

Right across the Krkonoše Mountains, there are many carved wooden statues all depicting a friendly giant known as Rübezahl (German) or Krakonoš (Czech), who according to legend, inhabits the area. As the origin of the legend is Germanic, I hope my Czech readers will forgive me calling him Rübezahl throughout this post.

Whilst there are numerous fairy tales about Rübezahl, the most well known is the one that also explains the origin of his name. One day, Rübezahl abducted a Polish princess with the intention of marrying her. She complained that she was lonely without her court being with her so Rübezahl promised to recreate the members of her court from the turnips (German Rübe) that he was growing. Whilst he was out counting (German zählen) the turnips, the princess escaped!

Whilst Rübezahl is the name by which the giant is commonly known, he personally deems it to be insulting as it means ‘turnip counter! He much prefers to be known instead as ‘Lord of the Mountains’.

By far the most impressive Rübezahl we saw during our time in the Krkonoše Mountains was this one in the centre of Pec outside Hospoda na Peci where Sybille and I ate most evenings we were there. Whilst sitting on an outside table at the Hospada, I saw many other people also photographing him or being photographed with him. However, he doesn’t apparently cope very well with wet weather so, whenever it is likely to rain, he gets coved in thick plastic sheeting. Quite how he copes with the snow in winter, I’m not at all sure!

Rübezahl under plastic © Ricky Yate

In my previous post, I mentioned the two unfortunate remaining Communist era monstrosities in Pec. Here is the second of them, the towering totally out-of-place Hotel Horizont, as seen from the steps of Penzion Nikola.

The Communist era monstrosity Hotel Horizont, as seen from Penzion Nikola © Ricky Yates

And in her comment on my previous post, Lis asked if many foreigners visit the Krkonoše Mountains. Here is a sign from outside a hotel in Pec which provides confirmation of the answer I gave. Germans – hence the large print ‘Zimmer frei’. The other languages are Czech, English, (presumably for the Dutch and Flemish-speaking Belgians), and Polish.

Rooms available in German, Czech, English and Polish © Ricky Yates

New flood defence at Troja © Ricky Yates

On Mondays (my day off), and sometimes on Saturdays if I get the sermon finished in time, Sybille and I like to walk and explore different parts of Prague. Here are two pairs of pictures taken during two walking forays into different parts of the city during February 2011.

These first two pictures were taken in Troja, a suburb located on the other side of the Vltava from where we live and close to Prague Zoo. They show newly constructed flood defences, designed to protect the neighbouring housing and also the nearby zoo, from future flooding should the Vltava rise to levels similar to those experienced in the catastrophic floods of August 2002. These defences are quite new – when we were last here a few months earlier, major construction works were still underway.

The gap in the high concrete wall, allows road access to the riverside during times of normal river levels. But should water levels rise rapidly, then a sunken metal barrier can be raised between the two sections of the wall, blocking the road, but preventing floodwater from going any further.

New flood defence embankment and wall at Troja © Ricky Yates

The second picture shows the view alongside the river, at right angles to the first picture. The concrete wall with pillars on the left, is the continuation of the concrete wall in the first photograph. Again, there are sunken metal barriers between the pillars which can be raised in time of serious flooding. But when river levels are normal, the barriers are left down, allowing more light into the car park immediately behind the wall and the into the houses beyond.

Early Communist era artwork from 1951 © Ricky Yates

The second pair of photographs were taken in the suburb of Hanspaulka, a little further west from where we live. The housing in Hanspaulka mainly dates from the first four decades of the twentieth century. However, the suburb also contains a number of examples of blocks of flats built in the early years of the Communist era, to provide much needed additional housing for the growing population of post-war Czechoslovakia.

Much grandiose Communist era artwork on buildings in the Czech Republic has quietly been eliminated and destroyed. But this somewhat quaint piece above the doorway of a small-scale three or four storey block of flats, has survived. As it says, it dates from 1951, only three years after the Communist coup of 1948. It celebrates two archetypal labourers working in heavy industry, ironically located in a suburb where such heavy industry has never existed!

Location of Communist era artwork with twin bases for displaying flags © Ricky Yates

The second photograph puts the artwork in context, showing where it is located, above the entrance to the flats built to house the hardworking proletariat. It also shows another feature found on many buildings across Prague – the provision of metalwork, located immediately below the street number of the building, to allow the display of two flags. As I explained in an earlier post about public holidays in the Czech Republic, in the Communist era this was for the display of a flag of Czechoslovakia, alongside the flag of the country’s fraternal friend, the Soviet Union. These days, two Czech flags will be displayed!

Statue of Marshall Konev in Námestí Interbrigády, Prague 6 © Ricky Yates

The statue pictured on the left here, is an extremely rare sight in the present-day Czech Republic. It stands in Námestí Interbrigády, a large square on one side of Jugoslávských partyzánu, the main thoroughfare leading from our nearest Metro station at Dejvická to Podbaba where we live. The reason that it is such a rare sight is because it portrays a Marshall of the Soviet Red Army, Ivan Stepanovich Konev.

As you can probably imagine, following the Velvet Revolution at the end of 1989, steps were rapidly taken to rid Czechoslovakia, (since 1^st January 1993, the Czech Republic and Slovakia), of anything that celebrated the preceding nearly 42 years of Soviet imposed communist rule. Anything that was part of the so called ‘normalisation’ that followed the crushing of the Prague Spring of 1968 by the Soviet Red Army was particularly detested.

Therefore, not many weeks after the Velvet Revolution, 14 Metro stations which bore names to supposedly celebrate Soviet-Czech friendship, were re-named. Thus Moskevská (Moscow Station) became Andel (Angel) and Leninova became Dejvická. Most poignantly, Red Army Square in the centre of Prague was re-named Jan Palach Square to commemorate the self-immolator whose death became such a focus for those who opposed communist oppression.

However, the statue of Marshall Konev remains, simply because he just pre-dates the Communist coup of 1948. For it was he who led the troops of the Soviet Red Army that liberated Prague from Nazi oppression, entering the city on 9^th May 1945, a few hours after the German unconditional surrender across Europe had come into force. The sixty-fifth anniversary of these events occurred just over two weeks ago, hence the floral tributes lying at the foot of the statue when I took the picture a few days later.

Memorial plaque to victims of May 1945 Prague uprising © Ricky Yates

All around Prague there are quite a number of memorials on buildings similar to these ones illustrated here. On 5^th May 1945, there began an uprising by Prague citizens against the Nazi occupying forces. Those involved in the uprising expected that the US Third Army under General Patton, which was advancing from the west, would soon come to their aid. What they did not know was that a previous agreement between the US and Soviet governments, only allowed for American troops to advance as far as a line linking Karlovy Vary – Plzen – Ceske Budejovice.

The Soviet government insisted that this agreement be honoured. Thus, many Prague citizens commemorated on these plaques lost their lives because the Soviet Red Army advancing from the east took 24-48 hours longer to reach Prague than US troops from the west would have done if they had been allowed to do so. Eventually, the Nazi forces withdrew westwards, keen to surrender to the American rather than the Soviet authorities. They knew who would treat them better! And because of their withdrawal, relatively little damage was done to physical structure of Prague itself, leaving it with the multiplicity of architectural gems that continue today to delight the eye of resident and visitor alike.

Memorial plaque to another victim of the 1945 Prague uprising © Ricky Yates