A year in Prague; even the buildings are Bohemian

Wiki: The “Dancing House” is set on a property of great historical significance. Its site was the location of an apartment building destroyed by the U.S. bombing of Prague in 1945. The plot and structure lay decrepit until 1960, when the area was cleared. The neighboring plot was co-owned by the family of Václav Havel, who spent most of his life there. As early as 1986 (during the Communist era), Vlado Milunić, then a respected architect in the Czechoslovak milieu, conceived an idea for a project at the place and discussed it with his neighbour, the then little-known dissident Havel. A few years later, during the Velvet Revolution, Havel became a popular leader and was subsequently elected president of Czechoslovakia. Thanks to his authority, the idea to develop the site grew.[citation needed] Havel eventually decided to have Milunić survey the site, hoping for it to become a cultural center, though this was not the result.

State Opera House in Prague

A few fotos from a party full of Pirates, so, an excerpt from my book A European Odyssey; How a boxer’s daughter found grace:

“I prepared for the Pirate Party based on nothing but hope. I bought several cases of Italian wine and Pilsner beer and made plenty of finger food and waited. I attended the conference but there was no way of knowing who might show up. No fewer than fifty guests stopped by our apartment on the last night of the conference representing well over a dozen countries. The Pirate Party had a silly name but they were becoming the fastest growing political party in Europe. The German arm was growing more sophisticated by expanding their platform beyond its focus on copyright and internet freedoms. In Germany their manifesto now included childcare, wages, and other issues important to any society.

“I tuned into my bohemian ideals and opened my joint to a bunch of strangers. It was my best fete ever. The party was mellifluous with every guest engaged with everyone else even if they wondered who the hell I was. Not that anyone cared because they were just happy to argue about everything in good spirit. The German and Dutch journalists debated with the Pirate members, the English came across as slightly cynical and opportunistic, and when the Italian journalists arrived they asked to see the wine selection. It was comforting to know cultural realities are alive and well at Chez Bay. The party kept going and lasted until the early morning hours and it was quite possibly the highlight of my year.”


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