The title of this post one of is the first questions you're asked as foreigner in the Czech Republic. It is, to use a cliche, a long story, and I've recited all the ins and outs of it so often, that I tell people - only half jokingly - that I'll write a book about it.
Well, here it is, or rather a super-condensed version.
For me, Prague is a city where bizarre connections and strange synchronicities seem to occur with astonishing frequency, so it’s fitting that the story of how I came here involves a coincidence.
It started in an era when, unlike now, the only Czechs coming to Britain were those fleeing Communism. Very unusually, one of my fellow pupils at primary school was half-Czech; his father had escaped Czechoslovakia and settled in Britain. Jan changed school after a few years, but our class had learned a bit about Czechoslovakia while he was with us. Perhaps that’s why I was intrigued by a neighbour’s beige Škoda “Estelle”, as it was absurdly styled in Britain. It’s probably also why I recall floundering attempts to spell “Czechoslovakia” – presumably after Jan had left – in an essay.
Later, I studied the former Eastern Bloc in one of my high school classes and became very curious about the part of Europe run by a cabal of doddery dictators. Shortly after, the 1989 revolutions broke out, which dispatched the dictators to history but brought me a step closer to Prague. A few years on, at university, my classmates and I had to “choose” between the Ruhr coalfield in Germany or Prague as a field trip destination. I think you can guess which….
That week was one of the best of my life. Prague mesmerized me, partly because then the Czech Republic seemed so different and the spiky-looking Czech language was so unfamiliar. Consequently, even the more mundane aspects of the trip, such as metro journeys, were lifted out of banality. As we were billeted with families in Háje, we had plenty of opportunities to travel by metro and marvel at the profusion of technicolour concave panels and other station idiosyncrasies. We found the metro announcements quirky too, and they had a sort of hypnotic effect on us, eliciting maniacal group chants of “Ukončete výstup a nástup!” at the slightest excuse.
When I returned, I just couldn’t get Prague out my system, and after completing a post-graduate course in building conservation in 1995, I started to think about combining my conservation and Central European interests. I finally came to Prague in 2000, to follow up on potential job offers, but progress was extremely slow. I was determined to stay in Prague and make things happen, so I decided to investigate other opportunities.
I’ve always enjoyed writing, and gradually moved into editing, and later journalism. I has a passion for languages too, and moved into translating from Czech to English. I particularly enjoy writing about travel and anything that helps newcomers to Prague Czech Republic.
Well, here it is, or rather a super-condensed version.
For me, Prague is a city where bizarre connections and strange synchronicities seem to occur with astonishing frequency, so it’s fitting that the story of how I came here involves a coincidence.
It started in an era when, unlike now, the only Czechs coming to Britain were those fleeing Communism. Very unusually, one of my fellow pupils at primary school was half-Czech; his father had escaped Czechoslovakia and settled in Britain. Jan changed school after a few years, but our class had learned a bit about Czechoslovakia while he was with us. Perhaps that’s why I was intrigued by a neighbour’s beige Škoda “Estelle”, as it was absurdly styled in Britain. It’s probably also why I recall floundering attempts to spell “Czechoslovakia” – presumably after Jan had left – in an essay.
Later, I studied the former Eastern Bloc in one of my high school classes and became very curious about the part of Europe run by a cabal of doddery dictators. Shortly after, the 1989 revolutions broke out, which dispatched the dictators to history but brought me a step closer to Prague. A few years on, at university, my classmates and I had to “choose” between the Ruhr coalfield in Germany or Prague as a field trip destination. I think you can guess which….
That week was one of the best of my life. Prague mesmerized me, partly because then the Czech Republic seemed so different and the spiky-looking Czech language was so unfamiliar. Consequently, even the more mundane aspects of the trip, such as metro journeys, were lifted out of banality. As we were billeted with families in Háje, we had plenty of opportunities to travel by metro and marvel at the profusion of technicolour concave panels and other station idiosyncrasies. We found the metro announcements quirky too, and they had a sort of hypnotic effect on us, eliciting maniacal group chants of “Ukončete výstup a nástup!” at the slightest excuse.
When I returned, I just couldn’t get Prague out my system, and after completing a post-graduate course in building conservation in 1995, I started to think about combining my conservation and Central European interests. I finally came to Prague in 2000, to follow up on potential job offers, but progress was extremely slow. I was determined to stay in Prague and make things happen, so I decided to investigate other opportunities.
I’ve always enjoyed writing, and gradually moved into editing, and later journalism. I has a passion for languages too, and moved into translating from Czech to English. I particularly enjoy writing about travel and anything that helps newcomers to Prague Czech Republic.
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