Czechoslovakia 1984 - Part One - Pilsen

I've booked myself a short break to Prague between Christmas and New Year. My wife Eileen will be working during that time so, hopefully, will son Matt. The company I work for shuts down over this period, meaning we have to take a few days annual leave. Rather than waste these days, and sit at home twiddling my thumbs or, worse still, decorating (what I've been doing these past few weekends!), I'm off to re-visit the Czech capital after a gap of over 25 years!

Back in 1984, what was then Czechoslovakia was ruled by a hard-line Communist government and was well and truly in the Eastern Bloc. At the time of my visit it was impossible to believe that just five years later the Communist Party would be ousted from power and the country would be taking its first tentative steps towards democracy and a free-market economy. What follows is an account of the visit I made in 1984, before all these changes took place.

For a short period during the early 1980’s, CAMRA ran its own travel subsidiary called CAMRA Travel. One of the places featured on their 1984 itinerary, was a trip to Czechoslovakia.. At a time when the Iron Curtain was still very much in place, Czechoslovakia was a country shrouded in mystery For myself in particular, the trip was the culmination of a long held ambition to visit this beer lover’s paradise.

I had first been made aware of its attractions by the writer, Richard Boston, who described in his excellent book “Beer and Skittles” (published 1976) how he had visited Prague during the mid 1960’s, and how he had been smitten by the city’s charms. He described the setting of the city as magnificent, and the architecture as grand without being intimidating. Its streets were not choked with polluting automobiles, and the eye was not constantly assaulted by advertisements. Most of all though he was smitten by the beer. He had only intended to spend a couple of days in Prague, but instead he stayed nearly a week, going from place to place and drinking “this wonderful beer”.

Towards the end of the 1970’s, during a CAMRA social in Westerham, I was introduced to a chap called Ron Smith. Although somewhat advanced in years, Ron was a real character; a life-long socialist and a veteran of the Spanish Civil War, Ron also appreciated a decent drop of beer. Together with a handful of local CAMRA members, Ron had organised a trip to Czechoslovakia. That night in the pub, he enthralled me and my companions with his tales of the trip, backing up everything Richard Boston had said, and more, about what a beautiful city Prague was and how superb Czech beers were. That set the seal on it; I was determined to visit the country at the earliest available opportunity.

A cold and dreary afternoon in early October 1984 therefore, saw myself and two friends boarding a specially chartered, luxury coach at Farthing Corner Service Station, on the M2 motorway. The coach had left from London earlier in the day with the main part of the group, en route for Dover, on a trip that was to include a stop-over in Pilsen, followed by a couple of days in Prague. CAMRA Travel had organised the visit through Cedock - the state-owned Czechoslovak tourist office, and whilst coach or plane travel options were available the bulk of the party had opted for the former. Not only was the coach some £50 or so cheaper than flying, but the three of us from Maidstone also thought that it would afford us the opportunity of seeing a bit of Europe, en route. We would also have the chance of getting to know our travelling companions better.

Our coach boarded the 21:00 hours sailing from Dover, where we enjoyed what was to be our last decent meal for sometime. Arriving in France we sped on through the night, (so much for seeing something of Europe!) passing through Belgium and on into Germany. By the time it was getting light we stopped for breakfast at a service station on the autobahn somewhere near Frankfurt. By eleven o’clock we had reached the West German - Czech border.

The border was everything the Iron Curtain was cracked up to be, with row upon row of barbed-wire fencing stretching away on either side of the crossing, through a thick swathe cut in the dense pinewoods which abound in this part of Europe. Imposing watchtowers formed a grim reminder that we were about to cross from Western Europe into the totally different and, at the time, politically hostile Eastern Bloc.

The crossing seemed to take an age as the free passage of people and goods was something that was totally alien to the communist authorities, but an hour or so later we were inside Czechoslovakia. The contrast between the latter and West Germany that we had just left behind could not have been more striking. Looking back though the small, isolated rural communities through which we passed did possess a charm all of their own, something I did perhaps not fully appreciate at the time.

Having travelled this far we were by now gasping for a drink. We had with us two tour guides, one employed by Cedock, and the other a professional courier, on secondment to CAMRA Travel. The former directed our coach driver to stop at a modern-looking, alpine-styled establishment where we were able to sample some Czech beer for the first time. I don’t remember what beer it was apart from the fact it was a pilsner style beer, but after being cooped up in a coach for the best part of twelve hours it proved very welcome and refreshing indeed. After this impromptu stop we continued our journey, arriving in Pilsen in mid-afternoon.

We located our hotel, a grandiose Baroque-styled building that had seen better days, and after checking in (a process that seemed to take forever!) we dumped our luggage in our rooms and set off to explore. Pilsen is an industrial city, which at the time of our visit still bore the scars of World War II. This was the result of Allied bombers trying to knock out the tank-making Skoda works.

Before we could buy a drink it was necessary to find a bank and change some of the large denomination Czech banknotes we had obtained, for some smaller units of currency. If the reception desk in our hotel was slow, then the bank was doubly so. The situation was compounded by a group of Russian visitors in front of us in the queue, trying to do the same thing. Eventually we accomplished our task and found a functional modern-style bar that was all stainless steel and chrome. Here, for the princely sum of 15p per half litre, we were able to enjoy a few glasses of beer brewed by Pilsen’s other but less well-known brewery, Gambrinus.

Suitably refreshed, we returned to our hotel, where we sat down to the first of several unremarkable and instantly forgettable Czech meals. Richard Boston had written about Czech food, describing it as “stodgy, low in taste and protein”, and comparing it very unfavourably with Czech beer. Nothing appeared to have changed much in the intervening years, and thick slices of suet dumpling, served up with every meal (including breakfast!), seemed to be the order of the day. Fortunately, the hotel management had supplied copious quantities of Pilsner Urquell to wash down the rather tasteless food, and what’s more it was “on the house”!

It slowly dawned on us that the evening’s entertainment, which was billed as a “Bohemian Beer Festival”, would be taking place in the hotel’s restaurant - hence the free beer! It seems that we had been a little naive in expecting to be whisked off to participate in the Bohemian equivalent of the Munich Oktoberfest, so despite the rather austere surroundings we settled down to enjoy the excellent draught Pilsner Urquell. The trip’s Cedock organisers had thought that the inclusion of a healthy sprinkling of national folk dancing and singing would be a good idea - this was a Communist country at the time after all! We dutifully applauded a succession of such acts, one of which was a dance troupe from the local Skoda car works!

Most of the party though, took the opportunity to get to know each other a bit better. The group included a member of CAMRA’s national executive as well as the Campaign’s then press officer, Danny Blyth. My companions and I had met Danny the previous year, when he had been staying at the same Reading hotel as us during the CAMRA AGM. As the evening wore on and the beer showed no signs of ceasing to flow, many of us decided to call it a night. I'd certainly had more than enough, as I must have consumed a gallon of Pilsner Urquell that night!

Strangely enough I didn’t feel too bad the following morning; I even managed breakfast. What came as more of a shock was the bill for the phone call made, the previous evening, to the girl who is now my wife. She had related, in graphic detail, the events that had occurred back home that evening; it being the night when the IRA had nearly succeeded in wiping out the entire British Cabinet with the bombing of the Grand Hotel in Brighton. We of course, had heard nothing of this event, as there was no TV in our room and no English newspapers on sale in Pilsen.

To be continued...........................