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Legend has it that St. John of Nepomuk was martyred by Václav IV of Bohemia (AKA Václav the Drunkard) because the king, believing that his wife was cheating on him, tried to force her confessor, John of Nepomuk, to violate the seal of the confessional. Most reputable sources think that the real reason had to do with a power struggle, with John of Nepomuk thwarting the king’s attempt to hand over the abbacy of a wealthy monastery to a candidate of the king’s choosing. A much less interesting story. According to Wikipedia, "John of Nepomuk is seen by Catholics as a martyr to the cause of defending the Seal of the Confessional, by romantic nationalists as a Czech martyr to imperial interference, and by most historians as a victim of a late version of the inveterate investiture controversy between secular rulers and the catholic hierarchy." He is at any rate very popular, and there’s scarcely a (Catholic) church in Prague without a statue or altar dedicated to him.

His feast is May 16 and it’s celebrated by a joint vesper service with the church of sv. Tomáš and the church of St Francis on the other side of the river, and I attended this year’s service. After vespers at sv. Tomáš, the two congregations made a solemn procession across Charles Bridge:

The procession stopped at the statue of St John of Nepomuk to commemorate his martyrdom:

We ended up at the church of St. Francis for a closing benediction.

As at Palm Sunday, the tourists were fascinated by this quaint custom and pictures aplenty were taken.

May 8 is a holiday in the Czech Republic (as it is in France and elsewhere) celebrating the Day of Liberation (the end of the 2nd World War). Since it fell on a Thursday, I persuaded (without great difficulty) my Friday classes to forego their lessons on the 9th, and visited Olomouc for a long weekend.

Why Olomouc?

Much as I like Prague, I’d really like to try living elsewhere in the Czech Republic. When I started asking around for alternate places to live, Olomouc was one of the names that cropped up most often. The second largest city in the Czech Republic, Brno, was usually dismissed as an unattractive industrial city that I would find boring. Olomouc, on the other hand, is a university town (of its population of 100,000, an estimated 20,000 are students). Olomouc’s main claim to fame these days is the Holy Trinity Column, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Historically, Olomouc was the capital of Moravia (although Brno now claims that distinction). It is also where Václav III, the last of the Přemyslid kings, was assasinated on his way to Poland to claim the Polish crown.

Sightseeing

Besides the Holy Trinity Column, Olomouc’s other main claim to fame is the Astrological Clock at City Hall:

The clock itself is centuries old, although the mosaics surrounding it date from the Communist era. Olomouc has suffered the mosaics to remain because, despite the political implications, it really is quite stunning art work.

Olomouc is also noted for its fountains. There’s the Cæsar fountain:

It’s not as unlikely as it seems: the ancient tradition is that Olomouc was founded by Julius Caesar and indeed the name of the city is a corruption of "Julius’s Mont". And archaeological findings under what is now sv. Michael’s church in fact confirm a Roman presence.

The relatively recent Arion fountain is a great favorite, especially because of the turtle sculpture that adjoins it:

The Hercules fountain shares plaza space with the Holy Trinity Column:

Besides the Holy Trinity Column, there’s a Marian plague column, erected by plague survivors to celebrate their survival:

There’s a little bit of the former Yugoslavia just outside the old city walls:

It was built to provide a resting space for Yugoslav soldiers killed during World War I, and, much like an embassy, the government gave the land to the government of Yugoslavia. The remains of the soldiers were subsequently repatriated sometime when Tito was on the outs with the Czechoslovak government, and the crypt fell into disrepair. The Olomouc city officials have recently persuaded one of the new countries that was formed by the dissolution of Yugoslavia to take responsibility for the (now empty) crypt, so with luck it will be spruced up soon.

The Church

The cathedral in Olomouc is sv. Václav:

The chapter house of the cathedral is where Václav III was assassinated:

I was in Olomouc over Pentecost, so I attended Mass at the cathedral on Sunday. Fittingly enough, they were celebrating Confirmation that weekend: about two dozen adults were confirmed. I noticed that those attending Mass were rather more formally dressed than I’ve been accustomed to in churches here, but maybe that was just because it was the cathedral or because of the Confirmations. The area immediately adjacent to the main altar is mostly kept locked if there isn’t a service, so there’s a chapel off the outer nave where the Sacrament is reserved. I also noticed that people stopped to genuflect in front of that chapel as they were entering and leaving the main altar area.

The Archdiocesan Museum adjoins the cathedral:

It’s a little surprising to me that, after 40 years of Communist suppression, the Church still has any treasures left. And actually, it does sometimes seem to me that the "jewels" in monstrances and the like are only cut glass (although that could be a security measure).

I also visited the Basilica of the Visitation on Holy Hill, a major (well, major for the Czech Republic) pilgrimage destination:

While the main entrance has been repainted, they haven’t (yet anyway) attended to the back or sides:

It put me in mind of an old Peanuts cartoon: Linus is showing off his newly shined shoes to Lucy, and as he turns to go, Lucy points out that he has only shined the fronts of his shoes, and not the backs. Linus replies that he cares what people think about him only when he’s arriving, not when he’s going.

St. John Sarkander

The closest thing that Olomouc has to a home grown saint is John Sarkander, who is venerated as a "martyr of the confessional". He was accused of treason by Protestant leaders and tortured partially due to his refusal to divulge what was said in confession. He died as a result of the torture, and the prison where he was held has since been converted into a chapel in his honor:

There’s also an altar with his relics in the cathedral. Although he died in 1620 and a cause for his canonization was started soon afterwards, he wasn’t beatified until 1860, and he was canonized only in 1995 by Pope John Paul II.

Dance

The Moravian Theater is the home for ballet and opera as well as drama. While I was there, the ballet was performing The Beatles and Queen, which sounded like an intriguing combination, especially for a ballet.

The music was presented (more or less) chronologically and the dance mimed the history of each group. It was very lively and went over well with the audience.

Haná Cuisine

I don’t really know enough about Czech cuisine to speak authoritatively on the differences between Bohemian and Moravian cooking, but I did notice a few little differences. Garlic soup, for example, is much heartier in Moravia; it includes ham and poached egg. And I was surprised by the "Chicken à la Duck": yes, the menu said it would be accompanied by sweet and sour cabbage, but I was expecting red cabbage, whereas this was white cabbage. And generally, white cabbage was more popular here than the red, whereas in Prague, it always seems to be red cabbage.

Olomouc’s Cafe 87 also has the only chocolate dessert that I’ve found worth eating in the Czech Republic: a bittersweet chocolate pie. The other chocolate desserts I’ve encountered in the Czech Republic have seemingly been based on milk chocolate and poor quality milk chocolate at that. Most baked goods also seem stale, or maybe Czechs just like their pastries on the dry side, but they’re not to my taste.

I also tried (I think!) the famed Olomouc stinky cheese, but I was seriously disappointed. The aroma was very mild and not particularly unpleasant; the flavor was unremarkable; and the texture was very waxy. In fact, after the first bite, I took another look to make sure that I hadn’t overlooked a rind or wax covering that I was supposed to remove first! I tried asking the waitress if there had been a mistake, but unfortunately, neither her English nor my Czech was up to the task. So I don’t know if I was (inadvertently perhaps) cheated or if Olomouc stinky cheese really does not live up to its reputation.

The Joys of Czech Trains

I was seriously unprepared for the business of traveling by train over a holiday weekend. There are several trains a day between Prague and Olomouc, so I didn’t figure that, even for a holiday weekend, I would need to book in advance, and buying a ticket on Thursday was no problem. When I got on the train, though, not only was every seat taken, but the aisles and vestibules were also crowded. I was "lucky" enough to be able to claim a stairwell in the vestibule, but mostly I stood for the three-hour trip to Olomouc.

I wasn’t in a mood to repeat that for the return trip, so I made a seat reservation. The return train, though, had originated in Kraków and passed through Ostrava before getting to Olomouc so it was already standing room only. There was such a crush of people boarding I couldn’t stop to look for my seat until we were already underway, at which point, I found that I was at the opposite end of the car (fortunately I was at least in the right car!). Looking at the mass of people and luggage crowding the aisle, I was going to give up. However, the two very nice Czech ladies who were trying to get me oriented weren’t having any of that and handed me over to the conductor. The conductor went off with my ticket, leaving me no choice but to follow, stepping over my fellow passengers with many an apology.

When we located my seat it was, of course, occupied, and by a woman with a child sleeping in her lap. Fortunately, the man in the seat opposite chivalrously gave up his seat (and stood for 90 minutes to Pardubice) so that I wasn’t in the awkward position of having to oust a mother and child from my place.

Moral of the story: next time I travel on a summer weekend, I’m not only booking my seat in advance, I’m also going first class!

What Else?

I took way more pictures, but they don’t really fit into the narrative, so there’s a supplemental slideshow.

And it really is true that once you get outside of Prague, people don’t speak as much English. German is popular, which makes sense since the Czech Republic is bordered half-way around by German-speaking countries, and in Olomouc, Polish is reasonably popular, which again makes sense. But not a lot of English.

While the Augustinians have been at sv. Tomáš since the end of 13th century, svatá Dobrotivá, near Zaječov, was the first Augustinian foundation in the Czech lands. The church and monastery are named for Saint Benigna (and how you get “Dobrotivá” from “Benigna” is a mystery to me), whose relics are kept there. sv. Tomáš holds an annual Marian Pilgrimage there the Saturday of the 6th week of Easter. This year was the 11th such pilgrimage since the practice was resumed.

The Story behind the Pilgrimage

Quoting from the program:
“According with the oldest legend, in the year 1262 Oldrich of Valdek, who was devoted to the Blessed Mother, one night heard in his room a certain whispering, or slight movement, and while still in bed listened to a voice that said:

“Oldřich, this is the will of both my Son and myself that in this place in which you see me standing you would as soon as possible build in his honor and in my name a church and a monastery for my servants and you will receive from my Son whom you willingly serve an ample reward…”

“The tradition said that everybody who went to the sactuary and left their problems at the feet of Mary, she would take them upon herself. Let us go to Mary. Do not forget our petitions. O holy mother.”

The Pilgrimage

I’m told that there were about 85 of us; I’m guessing that roughly 2/3 were Czech and (most of) the rest were English-speakers. (There was one girl who was pointed out to me as being from the Spanish-speaking community, but for the most part, the Spanish-speaking community was not represented. I don’t know why not.) We left Prague at about 8:30 and arrived at Olešna, the starting point for our walk, at about 9:30:

The buses were available to transport those who felt themselves unable to walk the 2 km or so, but the rest of the group set off for Zaječov. The walk took us through some lovely, open countryside:

As we walked through some of the villages along the way, the residents turned out to watch us and even to take pictures. We apparently introduced a marked note of novelty into their day!

There was a little chapel at about the midpoint, where we stopped for the Litany of Loreto:

The monastery complex came into sight a little bit past the chapel:

The cemetery en route is where the priests, parishioners, and benefactors of sv. Tomáš and the Augustinians are buried, and so we paused to pray for their souls:

There is what I think is a war memorial along the side of the monastery as we approached:

And a closer view:

When we reached the church, we processed around the altar to see the place where Our Lady is said to have appeared to Oldřich of Valdek and then sang the "Salve Regina"

The local parishioners turned out to welcome us. While we had been instructed to pack lunches, this turned out to be completely unnecessary: our local hosts were ready for us. Tray upon tray of open faced sandwiches, cookies, seriously addictive baby tarts and more were waiting for us in the refectory. They were extremely gracious in their hospitality, and it seems that this pilgrimage is a high point in the parish’s year.

After lunch, we had free time for exploring the monastery and for the Sacrament of Reconciliation before Mass at 2 PM. We headed back to Prague at about 4 PM.

The Augustinians had been turned out of sv. Dobrotivá by the Communists in 1950, and the monastery subsequently used as an internment camp, refugee asylum and finally a sports museum before being returned in 1998. The Augustinians have been working on its restoration since then, and the church has been largely restored:

Restoration of the cloister, on the other hand, remains an ongoing project and clearly has a long way to go:

(Once a month, on the third Saturday, sv. Tomáš sponsors a "work party" to go down to sv. Dobrotivá to help with the restoration.)

The parish website had a slideshow of last year’s pilgrimage, but apparently it’s no longer available.

While I was at Prague Castle on Saturday, in my failed attempt to get a look at the Czech Crown jewels, I happened to run across a flyer advertising a “Pottery Making Market at Nelahozeves”. Nelahozeves is a Renaissance château a little ways north of Prague; it’s been restituted to the Lobkowicz family. The town of Nelahozeves is also known for being the birthplace of Antonín Dvořák. So, on Sunday, rather than get up at some ungodly hour to stand in line at Prague Castle, I took the train up the river to Nelahozeves.

There were several dozen stalls, in the outer courtyard, in the approach to the château, and in the inner courtyard, most, but not all, of which were selling pottery or ceramics. There was also a grassy area which was mostly dedicated to games and demonstrations. And, of course, plenty of (not too outrageously overpriced) food and drink. This being the Czech Republic, there was sausage and potato pancakes and goulash and beer.

They were also running the regular tour of the château. There was no English language tour, though; instead, they gave me a pamphlet with the English text of the tour and sent me off with a Czech group.

Since I was in the neighborhood, I wanted to get a look at Dvořák’s birthplace, but it’s open only alternate weekends, and this wasn’t one of those weekends. (You’d really think they could have coordinated this better!).

I took enough photos that, rather than include them in this posting, I’ve put them into a slideshow.

The Czech crown jewels are not on permanent display, but are trotted out only once every few years, and the current display marks the first time in five years that they have been shown.

I had heard that, at the time of the last display, so many people lined up that the line was being closed by 11 AM (for an exhibit that closes its door to visitors at 5 PM), so I made a point of heading to Prague Castle at 9 AM on Saturday morning, only to find that the line, for an exhibit that opened at 9 AM, was already closed for the day. According to the Prague Post, people were getting in line at 3 in the morning! Given the popularity of the exhibit, I really don’t understand why the government doesn’t put the jewels on more frequent, if not permanent, display.

Since I wasn’t able to see the crown jewels but was in the general vicinity, I did pay a visit to the Loreto, which houses a replica of the Santa Casa in Loreto, Italy. (I highly recommend the website’s virtual tour.)

Reportedly, the Loreto was built during the 17th century as part of the Catholic campaign to attract the Czechs back to Catholicism.

Besides the Church of the Nativity and the Santa Casa, the complex houses a treasury which was well worth the visit. The most stunning piece on display was a diamond-encrusted monstrance known as the Prague Sun.

The entrance fee of 110 CZK is waived for priests and religious, which I thought a charming professional gesture.

I’m told by one of my students that replicas of the crown jewels are on permanent display at Karlštejn (a castle near Prague), so I suppose I’ll have to make the trek out there one of these days. It won’t be quite the same, but at least I’ll get a rough sense of what I missed.