Kay, a veteran parks volunteer – and fellow GypsyNester – discusses how to apply, where one lives at the parks, what is expected of volunteers and, most importantly… CONTINUE READING >>
Kay, a veteran parks volunteer – and fellow GypsyNester – discusses how to apply, where one lives at the parks, what is expected of volunteers and, most importantly, why she does it!
Isn’t Kay fabulous as we ask her the important questions?:
Why did you start volunteering at the parks?
What kind of work do you and your husband do?
How many days a week do you work?
But, Kay, we’re in the middle of a wildlife refuge. Where do you live?
What if we don’t have an RV?
What is a volunteer village?
How much studying do you need to do about the area?
Do you get to pick where you are placed in the park?
Hey Kay, this sounds awesome! How do we sign up? Any good resources?
The Charles Bridge is extraordinary – for the history and the supernatural, which are entirely intertwined.
We couldn’t wait to make a wish by rubbing the well-worn brass depiction of the ill-fated St. John – he was thrown to his untimely death on this bridge… CONTINUE READING >>
From the earliest days of Prague, this bridge across the Vltava River has been the focal point of the city.
In fact the name itself, Praha, is from the Slavic word, praga, meaning ford.
No, not the maker of cars, but as in the crossing of a river.
Since it’s much easier to traverse a torrent on a bridge than in the stream, King Vladislaus II built the first bridge in 1170.
In 1342, when the original structure was washed away in a flood, King Charles IV replaced it with the more jammin’ version that stands today.
Originally just called the Stone Bridge, over the years it became known as the Charles Bridge, in honor of good ol’ king Chuck.
For about five hundred years this was the only way across the Vltava, now there are several others, but we never once considered using any of those for our crossing.
That’s because the Charles is much more than just a bridge, it’s a history lesson, a performance venue, a shopping center and a place for supernatural phenomenon.
As soon as we crossed through the famous Gothic Old Town Guard Towers we realized that the Charles Bridge serves as Prague’s pedestrian mall (no cars allowed since 1965), flea market and street performance Mecca.
Both railings of the bridged are lined with entertainers and artists, all trying to make a Koruna or two.
Musicians, singers, magicians and mimes put on a nonstop show for the thousands of tourists that file by each day.
Mingled in among the performers are various fine artists, also vying for a couple Czech bucks from the crowd.
Their works run from serious to silly with portraits, caricatures, scenes of Prague or jewelry, crafts and souvenirs all up for sale.
We hadn’t come to shop, so we managed to pass over the viaduct unscathed by these peddlers and pitchmen, save for the monetary tributes we left for the musicians. We’re huge suckers for a novel street performance.
We came to the Charles Bridge for the history and supernatural, which are entirely intertwined.
Our curiosity was aroused by legends of the statues that flank both sides of bridge.
Certain brass spots on some of the sculptures have been rubbed by passersby to a brightly polished shine.
These spots often have people lined up waiting for a touch.
In the late sixteen and early seventeen hundreds thirty statues of various saints, knights and a crucifix, were erected along the railings of the bridge.
The rendering of St. John of Nepomuk quickly became the most famous – hands down.
St. John was martyred on this very bridge in 1393 and became the patron saint of Prague. It seems that John, as bishop of the city, and Wenceslaus, King of Bohemia and the Holy Roman Empire, had a few religious disagreements.
These kind of disputes rarely turned out well for the Johns of the world.
As is often the case, history and legend diverge a bit on just what happened.
History states that John and the king couldn’t see eye-to-eye on the appointment of a new bishop so Wenceslaus decided to get him out of the picture by tossing him off the bridge.
The legend has it that John had been hearing the queen’s confessions and the king, being the suspicious sort, wanted to know what she had been confessing.
John was unwilling to break the confidentiality of the confessional, so the Wenceslaus had him chucked off the Charles Bridge.
This made him an instant hero and martyr for the church, helping assure the flock that what happened in the confessional stayed in the confessional. The story further claims that as he entered the water, stars appeared and remained just above the surface.
He was made a saint in no time flat.
This brings us to the superstitions that we observed, the rubbing of the brass as a way to a make wish come true or to ensure a return to Prague.
Even though the statues were replaced with replicas in the 1960s, the traditions continue undeterred. No word on if the replacements contain equal magical powers as the originals but certainly plenty of people are giving it a shot.
The exact spot on the bridge where St. John was thrown into the Vltava is marked with a small brass cross with five stars above it, depicting the stars that hung over the water that fateful night.
To make a wish come true, one must reach for the stars, touching one star for each finger tip, while sending a petition to the cosmos. All of this touching keep the stars perfectly polished.
On the nearby statue of St. John of Nepomuk, a plaque on the base depicts the scene as he was tossed over the side of the bridge while the queen is forced to watch.
Rubbing the image of St. John plummeting off the edge ensures that the person doing the rubbing will one day return to Prague.
We rubbed several times each, no use taking any chances.
Another plaque on the same base shows a knight and his faithful hound.
After asking around and further reseach, we couldn’t find what power the dog might possess, yet he had been burnished to a blinding gleam.
As near as we could figure, it’s just because he’s cute.
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This was the first time we had to attempt to “bleep” cussing in a video! Hope it worked!
Ever been lost in a big city? How about a city with crazy… CONTINUE READING >>
This was the first time we had to attempt to “bleep” cussing in a video! Hope it worked!
Ever been lost in a big city? How about a city with crazy signs you can’t read and serious construction everywhere? For more info on driving in the Czech Republic: https://www.gypsynester.com/czechtires.htm
Sunlight could scarcely reach the ground between the tightly packed buildings, maybe that’s why when they were built they called the period The Dark Ages. Then we burst out into the open daylight of The Old Town Square… CONTINUE READING >>
The Old Town of Prague, bounded by The Vltava River to the north and west, and New Town on the east and south, wasPrague for the first or five or six centuries of her existence.
It struck us that very little had changed.
Sunlight could scarcely reach the ground between the tightly packed buildings, maybe that’s why when they were built they called the period The Dark Ages. Then we burst out into the open daylight of The Old Town Square.
It was like stepping inside a fairy-tale picture book.
The plaza seemed especially huge because of the contrast with the narrow streets leading into it.
But size is not what makes the square so impressive, that task is accomplished by the remarkable architecture enclosing the space.
Best known of the buildings are the Old Town Hall, with the world’s oldest working Astronomical Clock on its tower, and the Týn and St. Nicholas Churches.
We took in every building, famous or not, because they are all treasures.
While we were gawking, the delicious aromas of classic Czech street foods wafted over to us. We became like cartoon characters following a gossamer scent trail to find its source. Sometimes our feet didn’t even touch the ground.
Ah, there it is, a cluster of booths, let’s see what they’ve got:
The first booth was roasting traditional Prague ham, pražská šunka, on a spit over an open fire. The smell was staggering.
Cured and smoked ham has been a staple of the Prague diet for around five hundred years and the locals were lined up to get ’em some.
We joined the queue. When we finally got our paper plate, sagging with juicy slices and served up with rye bread and mustard, it was well worth the wait.
Edibles spinning over an open fire seemed to be the cooking method of choice – dessert was being served up in the next booth over in the form of rotisserie sweet rolls called Trdelník.
These gastric goodies originated in Slovakia, but the Czechs held on to Trdelník when the countries split.
We watched enthralled as two Czech girls rolled dough onto steel poles , put them over the coals, pulled them off the bars at just the right moment and rolled them in sugar – all without ever missing a beat in the heated argument they were carrying on.
Their fighting didn’t harm the flavor of these tasty toffee flavored treats.
Off to the east of the square we could see the Powder Tower, marking the gate between the New and Old Towns. New is strictly a relative term. Prague’s New Town began over six hundred years ago, so it is only new compared to Old Town, which is twice that age.
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With a coded message, this stunning 50 foot baroque is a memorial for 6,146 plague victims. As we contemplated the anguished figures on the tower, we noticed… CONTINUE READING>>
With a coded message, this stunning 50 foot baroque is a memorial for 6,146 plague victims. As we contemplated the anguished figures on the tower, we noticed that many of the letters in the inscriptions were highlighted in gold. On further inspection we realized that all of these correspond to Roman numerals and were curious as to the explanation.
Turns out that the numbers add up to six thousand one hundred and forty six, the total number of victims claimed by the plague in Kutná Hora. Wow. This must be like what the guy in The Da Vinci Code feels like all the time!
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St. Barbara’s Cathedral dominates Kutná Hora from a hill overlooking the city. A miner’s chapel had occupied the site for nearly… CONTINUE READING >>
St. Barbara’s Cathedral dominates Kutná Hora from a hill overlooking the city. A miner’s chapel had occupied the site for nearly a century, then in 1388 the miners had a big idea and an enormous project to build this Gothic masterpiece dedicated to St. Barbara, the patron saint of miners, began. The work continued, on and off depending of the fortunes of the silver mines, until 1905 when it was finally deemed complete and the cathedral was consecrated.
