Prague Urban Design, Architecture, and Landscapes

I am here studying Landscape Architecture and Urban Design, so it is high time I make some sort of commentary on my impression of Prague Design. One of the first things we learned about Prague is that there is an old town, which seems to have been mostly constructed c. 1100 - 1300, and there is also a New Town, which was mostly constructed c. 1350 - 1500 (excuse me if I am off on the dates, I am not one to focus on such facts and figures).

The Old Town area of town is embanked by the river to the West and North, and at the time, was enclosed by a fortification wall all around the East and South––all together forming a sort of tear drop shape. This part of the city grew organically with one main square, and the remainder of the outdoor plazas were created by the left over spaces between buildings. There is no grid to speak of, you cannot go more than a 100 m without facing a decision to turn or enter an enclosed passageway. The streets are narrow, and while most of them are open to car use, they are dominated by pedestrians. Often 5 building facades meet at different angles, creating the small interesting spaces which are utilized by restaurants during the warmer months. Several Markets formed along the edge of the fortification wall, where they had easy access to incoming goods.

The New Town formed along the eastern edge of the wall (which has since been removed), encompassing an area about three times the size of Old Town. In contrast to the organic development of the Old Town, this area was planned out in advance in a parcel-by-parcel grid system that we are much more familiar with. One main square, Wenceslas Square, was originally designed to function as a Horse Market in the New Town. Now the space is a commercial hub and tourist attraction. The secondary plazas in New Town either take up entire blocks, half of blocks, or––what I find most interesting––is the use of the interior of the block. Probably my favorite Quart-yard in Prague is formed by buildings all around the exterior, facing outward toward the street. Perhaps it is the lack of tourist-focused shops that makes the place so peaceful.

My school is located just inside the Old Town, and my hostel is located in the New town, so everyday I walk across the boundary between the two drastically different city designs. I would say the most striking contrast in the way I experience the spaces is in my attempts to Navigate. The grid system is clearly very straight forward and familiar for me, while the design of Old Town forces me to rethink how I navigate. You cannot memorize street names or when to turn right and left, you cannot count the number of blocks you travel, you cannot use the sun because so little of the sky is exposed. Instead, you look for spires and landmarks, and you know the general direction in which you need to travel. After living here two months I am no where near mastering this. But––I am aware of this alternate layout, what it takes to adjust, and I am developing a sense for how it changes the experience at the pedestrian level. That is really all I can expect to get out of traveling to a traveling to a new place as a Landscape Architect/Urban Designer.

Czech People

Alright, so all of you are probably wondering why in my “Prague blog” I never talk about Prague. Well, the truth is, I am pretty far behind. Everything that I have talked about so far happened within my first 2 weeks of traveling, before I settled in to Prague. I have been traveling for over 2 months now. But, no need to worry, I am going to switch gears a bit by changing the format of my blog––I will cover more ground in fewer words and you can get up to speed with the most exciting and interesting parts of my experience. Instead of day by day write ups I am going to cover topics that sum up my overall impressions. I can’t think of any logical order to follow, so I will just cover whatever topic I feel like writing about that day. But if you have any special requests or questions just post them to the blog and I will try to respond by tackling that topic next. The feedback will encourage me to write, so please feel free to ask questions!

The first topic I want to discuss is my impression of Czech people. I’ll start by saying that Czech people are very different than people in the U.S. The time Czech people spent under Communist rule wore down their ability to trust people. When walking down the street, even in the small neighborhoods, people either avoid eye contact and any type of interaction or they stare you down with a sharp face that says “don’t mess with me.” I realized how much it affects my mood. The simple act of people in the U.S. smiling and saying hello as you pass them on the street is sometimes enough to bump me out of whatever funk I am in, but here, that never happens. Beyond their facial expression is there body language and clothing. Women in particular wear tight black pants, spiky high heals, and big pouffy jackets. They stand firm with their hands on their hip, sometimes even with their hands in fists, although I may have only seen the fists once and let that skew my perception.

The men do not seem as prominent in the street scene, but if you watch people long enough they’re behavior surfaces. They seem quietly disrespectful and a bit demanding. However, I have been told one very good thing about Czech people, which resonated with me quite a bit. Czech people are not fake, they do not pretend to be nice, they do not pretend to like you, when they do show affection or act kindly to you it is genuine. Also, once they get to know you and build up trust for you, they will do just about anything for you. This is the downside of many people from the U.S. Everyone is friendly, everyone is nice at first, it is assumed, but even after you feel close and think you deserve someones trust and time, they often disappoint you. I don’t mean to sound depressing, I just mean to note that there are ups and downs of each culture. I don’t think I will get close enough with any Czech people to take advantage of their genuine personality, but it is nice to know, and the smiling Americans are something to look forward to when coming home.

Paris was Perfect

I have to admit that I was not all that excited for Paris. I had nothing against going, but it was not the first on my list. I had this impression that French people were too snooty about food and too formal with their landscape designs. Still I went, thinking I would at least have a god time.

When we arrived we made our way to our couchsurfers place, and found it without any trouble at all. On the way we passed through a lively market where dozens of vendors lined the streets selling fresh produce, cheeses, pastries, fish and meats, as well as fresh pastas. I realized how much I was craving really fresh healthy food, so I went back out and bought vegetables of every color in the rainbow, plus some lemon and cheese, so that I could make a salad. Only 30 minutes in Paris, and it had already won me over.

Our host had given us his entire flat for the weekend while he stayed with his girlfriend. His flat was super stylish and functional, and a perfect size for 1 person. (Also not bad for the three of us for a short period). He wasn’t there when we arrived, but he planned to meet us there around 6. We had a few hours so we all went out walking around in different directions.

I walked for only a couple minutes before discovering a graveyard. It was walled in on all four sides but there were large entrance gates in the middle of each block. It seemed to be organized like a four-square garden. There was a large central sculpture and two intersecting roads that pass through it. Trees line each side of the road making strong lines leading in toward the sculpture. The grave stones ranged from humble to a bit ostentatious, but they were all beautiful. I spent two hours walking around and admiring them. Just before 5 pm aman came around in a small vehicle, like a golf cart, ringing a bell and yelling out something that I assumed meant the graveyard was closing soon.

I made my way over to a gate realizing I had gotten sucked in a bit and slightly disoriented. I looked toward the central sculpture to reorient myself. I walked out and toward our flat, and ran into Irene on the way. Quentin was not there yet and we thought it would be nice to have dinner waiting for him so Irene and Christine set out to buy more food. While I waited for Quentin I drew in my visual journal. The girls returned with fresh pasta, roasted red peppers, and pesto. They also bought wine, a baguette, and brie for a snack. Quentin came home while we were eating in his house. It was a bit funny inviting him in to sit at his own table, but not awkward, especially since we could offer him food and wine.

We all sat and talked for a while about our trip so far, and our plans in Paris. First on our list was to check out the club scene, it was after all a Saturday night. We set off to find a club on a boat that typically has a good dJ. We thought we had found it, but noticed a group of parisian girls skipping over that boat to another, so we decided to follow them. They got on a boat that appeared to be a private party, but no one said anything to us on our way in, so we hung up our coats and tried to blend in. We were welcomed by groups of girls pulling us in to their dance circle, which made us feel better about party crashing. After some european techno and a few Michael Jackson songs, the champagne and a cake full ofcandles were brought out. We all sang “Bon Anniversaire” and clapped as a girl blew out the candles. We spent some time out on the dock enjoying the breeze, and then headed back to the flat to sleep.

In the morning we went to a cafe on the corner for brunch. We all ordered the special: a smoked salmon quiche over a bed of greens. When the waiter arrived with our food held our plates up and he sneered at our table. Christine looked at him, confused, and started to grab the plate from his hand, thinking perhaps he didn’t realize how high he was holding it. The man sneered again, this time at her, and said something in French. Irene and Christine knew a similar word in Spanish and immediately understood. Apparently he just wanted us to move out napkins out of the way. It was a bit of an awkward moment, but we got a good laugh thinking back on Christine trying to grab the food out of his hands.

The quiche was absolutely delicious. The French know how to cook, and deserve to be a bit snooty about their food, as long as they let me sit there and enjoy it. After brunch we headed out the “Jardin de Luxemburg,” a typical large-scale formal Parisian garden. It was the perfect day to go to the park, the temperature had finally broke 60 (remember this is still in January), it was a Sunday afternoon and all of the locals were out enjoying the park.

I was 100% wrong about formal park design. The formal lines were entirely appropriate and made for a unique and enjoyable experience. Sure there were large spaces that were not occupied by people, but they were still used to form dramatic views. We spent hours there just sitting, watching small children play red rover, red rover, older ones played soccer, couples walked down the winding paths holding hands, and men play a game I had never seen before with a beer in hand. We walked to the other end and discovered the circular pool of water where little boys and their dads tried to get their remote control boat all the way across, while teenagers gathered chairs in a circle and through bread crumbs for the birds.

We slowly meandered away from the park, picked up crepes with bananas and nutella from a street vendor, and headed toward Notre Dam. Notre Dam is a beautiful and intricate gothic cathedral with ceilings high enough to make anyone consider the existence of a higher power. The interior is dark, cool, and peaceful, but the exterior is a bit more lively with a plaza in front and a gathering of pigeons along the side near the river.

After enjoying the cathedral we headed out toward the modern art museum where we planned to meet up with out couchsurfing host and his friends. He took us up to the top of the museum which was also an enclosed viewing deck where you could see all of Paris, including the eiffel tower. The sun was setting and the clouds in the sky provided a beautiful backdrop for a photo.

They took us on a walk around that part of town, mostly in search of a good place to grab a drink. Later we split off from his friends and just went to his girlfriends house to make dinner. We started with a delicious toasted baguette loaded with cheese and drizzled with honey and french herbs. Next we made a pile of crepes which we first stuffed with cheese, vegetables, and spices, and later––for dessert we drizzled honey and lemon on them. We chatted and drank wine until it was time to head home for bed.

The next morning we decided to make the famous commute down the Champs-Elysées from the Arc de Triumph to the Louvre. The scale of this street is phenomenal. We stopped about halfway to eat at a cafe with good outdoor seating so we could enjoy the day and watch the world go by. It seems like a counterintuitive activity for a typical sight-seeing tourist, but I highly recommend it. After a couple pizzas, a couple coffees, and a couple hours we moved on toward the Louvre. The scale of the walkways is phenomenal. Carefully trimmed trees plantedin a strip topped with gravel towered over separated the pedestrians from the cars speeding by. The sidewalk was smooth and flat, allowing for your attention to be up and forward.

After a few blocks we stumbled upon the corner of the large formal park that connected to the Louvre. Another large circular pond was placed in the middle as a casual gathering space. Moveable lounge chairs were provided so people could sit in a cluster, bath in the sun, and watch the birds flock. The rest of the walk was well curated with predetermined paths, bold hedges and a wide staircase. Once up the stairs you could get a better view of the Louvre, and there were small access points to various lawns: smalll sloped lawns for sun bathing, and larger flat lawns for playing soccer.

The actual building wrapped around three sides creating a central gathering space with of course, the famous pyramidal structure and staircase down into the museum. The museum was closing shortly so we decided just to enjoy the space while the sun set. I don’t particularly love the pyramid sculpture, but at the very least provides an anchor point and a unique way of entering a building.

We headed back toward home, strolling by the Notre Dam to catch another glance, and grabbed some groceries to made dinner at home. After dinner Irene and I scurried out to the Sacre Coeur to catch one more glimpse of Paris that we had not yet seen. Its setting on a hill made it another good vantage point to view the entire city. It was a perfect ending to an overall perfect experience in Paris.

The Detour on the Way to Paris

We decided not to buy a train ticket all the way to Paris because we knew the bus tickets would be cheaper. So our plan, was to buy a bus ticket once we got to Brussels, knowing about how much it would cost and that it would leave within an hour after getting there. When we got to the Brussels bus station we found that the only tickets still available were 1st class, which would cost us over $100, we were hoping to spend closer to $30 or $40. There was another bus leaving in the morning with cheaper tickets, so we decided to buy those tickets and find a place to stay in Brussels for the night. We got on the dreaded metro, heading for the Van Gogh hostel not knowing if they had any beds available, just hoping.
We found it pretty easily, it was not far from the metro stop and was apparently the building Van Gogh lived in for a period of his life. Luckily, they had a room for us! It was a pretty clean and put together place. This hostel had a variety of energy and water saving appliances, the kinds I originally expected to see in Europe, but had forgotten about. The bathroom light was on a timer, so if you forgot to turn off the light it turns of automatically. Of course it also turns off if you take too long. I found this out not because I took too long, but because I went in after someone else and jus got the tail end of their light session. The shower is also on a timer. Instead of having an on-off handle and temperature settings there one button. If you press it once you get about 2 seconds of luke warm water, but i discovered if you press really hard for a couple seconds you get about 30 seconds of warm water. It was definitely a bit annoying, but I think I would get used to it after a little while and end up using a lot less water and heat. I would not enjoy my showers quite as much, but perhaps those are the kind of sacrifices that are necessary if were going to take serious efforts toward sustainability. I would be curious to know other peoples response to that experience, and how it differs across cultures and demographics.

The rest of the night was relatively uneventful and we made it on the bus to Paris with ease. Our detour, although a bit frustrating at first, went pretty smoothly and did not put us back too much in terms of time or money.

Bruges was Brief

We got to Bruges late, and we’re still recovering from drinking, eating sweets, and sleeping in a basement (a deadly combination for me). So we almost immediately took a nap. We were woken by our own stomachs, so headed to a traditional restaurant for a bite. I ordered some sort of spicy and cheesy eggplant dish. It definitely hit the spot. By this time we had figured out that water is not a free drink, and water bottles are not acceptable, but it didn’t stop me from sneaking a few swigs from my purse while the waitress’s back was turned. I am not sure if someone saw me or one of the other girls but we were warned on our way out not to drink our own water in a restaurant again. I wouldn’t say this was a culturally shocking experience because I had known about this, but free water at a restaurant is something I really appreciate in the US and will continue to miss while I am here. Anyways, we headed back to our hostel, where we shared a room with 12 other people. There was a bar on the ground floor with cool grungy art on the walls and lots of people so Irene and I hung out and chatted for a bit before going back upstairs to sleep

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In the morning we caught the tail end of the included breakfast and put our bags in storage before heading out to the center of town. With only a short amount of time we simply walked around enjoying the site of canals, the smell of pastries, and the sound of horses and buggies clicking down the road. We did make one special stop at a quart yard and garden formerly owned by the Medici family, now run by nuns. The Medici family started their own bank in the late 1300‘s which fueled and inspired many projects during the Italian Renaissance. I am not sure what they were doing in Bruges, but they left a garden there for people like me to appreciate. I ate at another traditional restaurant, and also went to the grocery store for chocolates and snacks for the road before heading to Paris. Bruges, while brief, was a pleasant experience and seems to have a lot to offer.

Brussels was Bittersweet

We arrived in Brussels late. We had a connection with only 3 minutes in between, and of course missed it. It’s almost impossible to get from one platform to another in that amount of time, especially if you have to stop to see which platform to go to. We tried to run, but it peeled away just as we were close enough to reach the door. It was only an hour until the next train, and the time passed quickly, but I felt bad about showing up late to another couch surfers house, especially since he had mentioned preparing dinner for us.

We made it with only a little confusion and extra walking, and thankfully Emmanuel, our host, has made a quiche and was able to pop it in the oven upon our arrival. He also offered us a beer from his collection reserved to couch surfers. Emmanuel had radio head playing, and I noticed a pretty expansive collection music, mostly American Classics, but he also had some cds of more underground music. I was impressed. The quiche was ready quickly, he made one with deli meats, and another with potatoes––a Brussels classic, both were delicious. We ate and talked for a little while but went off to bed shortly. Our bed was in the basement and they had not yet turned the heat on, so it was very cold and the air was stale, still we were tired so we slept.

Around noon we headed out to the city center, or in Brussels: The Grand Place. Brussels is probably walkable based on its size, but it is confusing and just large enough that you we didn’t really want to, so we often took the metro. The metro in Brussels was my least favorite thing about Europe so far. It was crowded, tense, smelly, and loud. I was just glad to get off and back up to street level. When we got downtown we stopped for lunch. I got quiche again, this time with broccoli and roquefort, a good stinky cheese. We finished up and headed over to the Grand Place, stopping for chocolates, and to see the 'Manneken Pis' on the way. The Manneken Pis is a very small statue of the little boy peeing. It is periodically dressed by high up visitors of Brussels. There are many tales about why Brussels has a peeing boy statue, most of which involve the boys mother or father losing the boy, and then finding him peeing somewhere. On rare occasions, the statue gets hooked up to a keg of beer and share beer with anyone passing by. All in all the statue makes quite an impression given its size.

When we made it to the Grand Place I was blown away by the the beauty of the architecture and the scale of the space (I would say almost 300 ft long). It seemed underutilized at the time, but I would assume the dynamic changes at different times of day and year. We continued to wander into lace shops, which Belgium is known for––particularly Bruges and Brussels, each has their own style and technique.

That afternoon we made our way to the “Park of Brussels.” It was a cold weekday so the park was not really alive, but it was still beautiful. It was my first time experiencing a formal, axially organized park. From the center you have four clear views of distant, but significant buildings in Brussels. Trees lined each path, framing the views. Sculptures of significant people were placed evenly in a circle around the center as well as throughout the park. The park seemed relatively flat and simple at first, but I found one edge that dipped down 15 or 20 feet below street level. Down there was a lush romantic path where I saw people holding hands, and hidden sculptures, one of which I was inspired to draw. The sun had set at this point and we had made plans to go to an old cinema near the park.

The cinema was showing an old black and white silent slap-stick comedy, with a live pianist––as much of a novelty as it is a mouthful. The movie was essentially about a socially awkward and kind of stupid character that is always getting himself in t some sort of trouble. It was entertaining and a generally enjoyable experience.

We headed back toward the center of town to grab some food and drinks, remembering someone had mentioned a concert in the Grand Place that night. The concert was fairly humble considering the available space, something I’ve heard is typical of Brussels. Still it was funky, and fun, and enough people were groovin’ out to make it engaging. The Grand Place was even more beautiful at night, and I was actually happy it wasn’t packed with people.

We walked about a block away in search for food, and found a greek restaurant to sit down in. A cat immediately sat down between Irene and I and stayed there snuggling with us until we left. If the food wasn’t so awful it would have felt like home. I also ordered a cherry beer, which was recommended by Emmanuel. It tasted more like cherry soda than beer, which is surprising and strange, but I still enjoyed it. We moved on to a bar just across the street, this time ordering more traditional Belgium beers. After our first round of drinks, our waiter told us that the man across the room was the owner and wanted to buy us drinks, so I ordered something expensive. Later, our waiter came back over and said, “Actually he wasn’t really the owner, he was just trying to impress you. I am the owner, and I cannot let you go without a drink from me, so the next round is on me.” After this point feeling pretty good, and it was getting pretty late for a weekday so we started to get our coats and things. The waiter came over one more time, this time with shots already in his tray. Its hard to resist free drinks, so we took the shot, tipped well, and headed out. With the metros off and a rain drizzling down we splurged a bit on a cab ride home.

The next morning we let ourselves relax, but made sure to pick up a Belgium waffle on the way out. It was just street food, but it was by far the best waffle I have ever eaten. The waffles, chocolates, beers, lace, architecture all made for a sweet and beautiful experience, but the metro along with some of the food and unmentioned unfriendly people tainted our perception of Brussels, which is why I am calling the overall experience Bittersweet.

Alkmaar

We took a train up to Alkmaar, which is a beach town in the Netherlands where people from Amsterdam take weekend trips. We were excited to get out of the city for a bit to see expansive beaches, rolling hills, and thick layers of trees. We got to experience all three within our first couple hours in Alkmaar. Irene’s friend Ludwin picked us up from the station and took us to the sand dunes. These sandy hills formed along the coast as a result of wind, and were held together by the roots of vegetation. The town preserved much of the natural formations and vegetation recognizing their flood minimizing and benefits, but also put a labyrinth of paths for people to enjoy it. It was relaxing to get lost in the woods, and quite a contrast from navigating urban areas. (I have unfortunately misplaced my pictures from this portion of the trip, but I will get some from Irene or Christine soon).

After a brisk walk through the dunes we made our way to the street where there was a pancake restaurant. I ordered a pancake with apple and bacon, a combination I couldn’t resist. My goal was to save my sweet tooth for Belgium waffles and chocolates, but I have to admit the banana and powdered sugar pancake looked pretty amazing as well. Holland style pancakes (called Pannekoek) are very large––one is enough––and they are absolutely delicious. I am tempted to compare it to a crepe or an American style pancake, but I just don’t think it would do it justice. If your really interested let me know because I would like to try and make it myself when I get back in the states.

After brunch we made our way over to the beach. Sitting on the beach in January is a bit strange, instead of bathing in the sun we were huddling together wearing winter jackets, gloves, and scarves. Still the absence of tall buildings made the sun strong and relatively warm. We went back to Ludwin’s house which was really cozy and perfectly located at the confluence of two canals with a clear shot to the cheese tower which marks the center of town. The tower used to be a cheese factory, now it is a market place where they sell cheeses (mostly Gouda of course). We relaxed and warmed up for a while, until we felt motivated to make dinner. Ludwin insisted on making her famous Moroccan stew which is filled with hearty vegetables and spicy curry seasonings. She also made a chocolate cake with a layer of homemade jam in the center, and a hand powdered sugar glaze on top.

The next morning we slowly made our way out of bed, filled some crepes with cheeses and jams and went in to the town center. There used to be a bridge over the canal linking Ludwin’s neighborhood with the town center, but it was replaced with a ferry that went back and forth all day long, only traveling about 50 feet each way. It was pretty ridiculous, but convenient so I did not complain. We walked around looking at shops and the church near the center. We eventually made our way to the train station where we could rent bikes to ride around. We got fries with curry mayonnaise to hold ourselves over while we explored. We wandered along a bike trail along a river where there were large wind mills every 50 meters.

After our ride we headed back toward town to grab dinner. We went to a Tapas restaurant, which of course is Mexican, but Holland is not really known for their food and I have never been to a Tapas restaurant. Christine’s Spanish came in handy because there were no english translations. I had her order for me, so I could just sit and enjoy. There was a special that night that essentially made the number of dished you ordered unlimited, I was not prepared for such a gluttonous evening. We had cheeses in a bowl doused with honey and herbs, cheeses wrapped in meats and meats wrapped in cheeses, and so many more things I couldn’t possibly remember, but almost all of it was delicious and filling. I kept thinking we were almost done when another round of dishes would come out. By the time we were done the restaurant had emptied, and we were leaning back in our seats with our heads back and our bellies out.

The next morning we had our usual crepes and spreads, dropped off our bikes at the train station, picked up some fruit from the market, and headed to the train station for Brussels. Alkmaar, although not on the original itinerary, was a relaxing, accommodating, cheap, and yet gluttonous surprise.