Yes, I am exploring every place that begins with a 'P'.
I will be flying to Prague in late March to visit my good friend Will, who is really a prince of a fellow and a real Prince. I mean really. His family, the Lobkowiczes go back seven hundred years in Bohemian and Czech history. He, with his family, has been in Prague for a number of years reclaiming and restoring a number of castles and works of art that were taken from the family in World War II and were given back in 1991 at the peaceful split up of the country into the Czech Republic and Slovakia. The properties include a number of Castles, including the Lobkowicz Palace which stands next to the Royal Palace in Prague. Will studied voice with me at Harvard in the 80s and we have always kept in touch. While he is technically a Prince, he does not use the title. Titles are no longer being used in the Czech Republic. But he's still a prince to me.
The last time I was in Prague was in 1975. John Ferris and I were in Vienna checking up on the Hradetzky pipe organ that had been built for my church in Red Bank, NJ, and decided to visit East Germany and Czechoslovakia while we were there.
We obtained the proper visas and drove first to Leipzig, where Wilhelm Hoffman had arranged for us to visit a number of 'Bach' organs in the area. These are organs on which the great Baroque master had actually performed. It was a once in a lifetime experience. Everywhere we visited a church and its organ, the people would say to us, 'If only the Americans had not pulled back,we would be in West Germany!' So sad.
Leipzig was gloomy with long lines forming at every small shop for bread, meat, whatever. When the shop ran out of provisions, it closed for the day, leaving some people still in line.
Wilhelm invited us to his apartment for dinner one night. When I asked for driving directions, he told us to meet him at his church, the Nicolai Kirche, and walk with him to the apartment. He was planning to serve wine and told us that if we were stopped with wine on our breaths while driving, we would be arrested. When we were ready to go back to our hotel, he suggested that we walk through the enormous train station which was very near to our hotel. He said 'When you go through the station, remember that some people can actually get on a train and leave the country.'
From Leipzig we went on to Dresden, which was still largely in ruins from the war. Both cities were depressing, gray and unhappy.
Then we set out for Prague, which was still under Communist rule. When we reached the East German-Czech border, we got through German security without much of a problem, but when we drove on a bit to the Czech security point, it was a different story. We were pulled to one side while our documents and car were given a thorough examination. On the back seat of the car was our Czech guide book, Fodor or some such. The guard said to us 'I would like to see that book.' I handed it to him and he walked away. He was gone for at least twenty minutes. Eventually he returned and when I asked for my guidebook back he said 'I keep book, you go to Prague, I give you book, you go back to East Germany'.
We didn't have a choice. Of course, I had carefully mapped out our stay in Czechoslovakia in the book and was lost without it. At our hotel I bought another guide book in English but published in Czechoslovakia. It had almost none of the sites listed that we wanted to see. Lots of Russian monuments were there.
There was a youth festival going on in Prague at the time, and the sight of these bright young people skipping around hand in hand reminded me of Hitler Jügend, a youth movement in Nazi Germany during the war. It was scary.
Discouraged, we decided to cut short our stay and go back to Austria. Since we had had to pay in advance for our hotels, we had a hard time getting our money returned. They said they would mail it to us in the US. I think eventually a check did arrive; not for the full amount.
As we started driving out of Prague, heading for Austria, we were in a lot of traffic. It was the weekend and many citizens were heading into the countryside in their tiny little Russian built autos.
The nearer we got to the Czech-Austrian border, the fewer cars there were going our way. For the last several miles we were alone on the road. All by ourselves we crossed over the border into Austria. The name of the town was Freiburg. I nearly got out to kiss the ground!
That was a long time ago. I am looking forward to my trip back to Prague with much happier expectations. And to seeing my Prince and his lovely family.