PRAGUE: He was everywhere here! – Invisible dog
A report on how a Californian citizen visited all 57 urban districts of Prague
No, it was not the whim of a foolish American billionaire who no longer knew how to trump other rich people. I was that citizen of Kalisz, and because of that, I confirmed it to myself that, although a native Praguer who prides himself on how well he knows Prague (I was even a tour guide in my youth), I only know its historical core and a few random outer locations well , where either an aunt lived or there was a swimming pool.
I have therefore decided that on my next trip to the old homeland I will visit all the outlying districts and villages and find out where they are and what all those Štěrboholy and Dolní Chabry actually are. Before the trip, I had to learn how the administrative division of the city actually looks like, and to my amazement I discovered that Prague has a completely confusing structure of local administration, which is not clear even to the residents of that part. For example, a citizen who lives in the municipality of Třeboradice must go to the Prague-Čakovice Municipal Office for a dog tag, but for a passport he must go to the Prague 18 Municipal Office, even though the street sign says Prague 9. because it also falls there. The devil knows about it.
Prague has a four-level administrative department. It consists of 112 cadastral territories, 57 urban districts, 22 administrative districts and 10 urban districts. A cadastral territory is the same as a municipality, because a municipality is formed by the sum of cadastres. No cadastre can be in two or more municipalities. Such municipalities are, for example, Jinonice or Břevnov. Previously, the villages had their own municipal office headed by a magistrate. In the ancient past, the sovereign could elevate a village to a city. Such a city was surrounded by walls, its administration was based in the town hall (from the German rathaus) and was headed by a burgomaster (from the German bürgermeister), later called the mayor. Until 1784, Prague was not a single administrative entity, but actually an association of four separate cities (Old and New Town, Malá Strana and Hradčany), each with its own beautiful town hall.
Only Joseph II. created the Royal Capital of Prague, to which Josefov and Vyšehrad were later added. This real Prague received its complete fortifications and the administration moved to the Old Town Hall. In 1922, Prague expanded to include many other adjacent cities and municipalities, thus creating Greater Prague. The fortification was no longer needed and was torn down. The city administration moved to the so-called New Town Hall, where the city municipality still resides today and the mayor has been elected to head it ever since. However, the original towns and villages, now called urban districts, continued to exist within the boundaries of their original cadastres. Soon, however, it was decided that Prague needed to be divided into completely new units. It happened quite brutally and the result was that many municipalities were divided between two or more new districts (e.g. Vinohrady is now in five). Cadastral municipalities lost their self-governments and today they are used only for land registration.
New circuits changed frequently. Originally there were 19, then 20, later 16, and finally the number stabilized at a practical number of 10. City districts were managed from district offices, which were renamed national committees under the communists. After the Velvet Revolution, Prague underwent a further development of its division, and today it has 57 city districts, each with its own municipal office and mayor. For the needs of state administration, many city districts are united into 22 administrative districts, which, however, do not have their own administration. Some government institutions such as the judiciary or the post office continue to use the original ten city districts, hence the confusing numbers on street signs. As far as practical use is concerned, the people of Prague continue to orient themselves according to the names of the original municipalities. Everyone knows where Vinohrady or Motol are. Ten circuits also remained in the subconscious. Everyone knows that Prague 6 is in the northwest of the city and Prague 4 goes south from Vyšehrad. I’m not so sure that many people know where Prague 17 is today.
However, Prague is divided as it is, and the number 57 was important to me as the number of units in which the people rule themselves and to which I was ready to go. In order for my anabasis to have some order, I decided that I would travel from the town hall to the town hall, and in the way that other citizens normally travel, i.e. by public transport. For seven days I then trudged around the outskirts of Prague, which are often more charming among us , than the city itself. I spent most of the time at bus stops, traveling mainly by bus, but also by subway, tram and, in one of the photos, by hitchhiking. I often boarded the same bus several times in a row at different places, so I returned to other destinations through different villages. I thus became a suspicious person for a certain driver, especially in the afternoon when the buses were filled with school youth and the driver was not sure if I was a hidden pervert.
During my wanderings, I witnessed some interesting demographic facts. Between the two municipalities of Prague, with the number of Russian-speaking women, although it is possible that in the east Ukrainian, they all got off at one stop in the middle of the open countryside. Even the driver only spoke Russian and did not understand me at all when I tried to find out from him when he would be back. Finally, it showed the international gesture for a short nap and gave a hearty laugh. Around the villages of Libuš and Písnice, the buses began to fill up with girls of Vietnamese origin, who, however, spoke perfect Czech to each other and showed each other some tiktoks on their iPhones and laughed at the expense of some boy.
I usually arrived at a stop that was as close as possible to one or another town hall, once I took a photo of the building and wandered on. I was mainly interested in the architecture, landscaping, how they display the city or municipal emblem and whether they have a clock at the town hall, which every proper town hall should have. If there was a landmark or surprising artifact nearby, I photographed it as well. The people were friendly to me and happy to hear that there is interest in their village. Whether it was the charming librarian in Petrovice or the crew of the town hall in Kolodějy, who were sunbathing on the lawn in front of the building. The secretary of the office gave me several books about the history of the village as a gift.
However, Klánovice was an exception. When I looked around their nice First Republic villa, a kind of citizen, a type of ex-militiaman or self-sacrificing member of the VB Auxiliary Guard, followed me. He watched my actions for a long time and finally couldn’t stand it and asked me sternly why I was taking pictures of the office. I answered him that I take pictures of all the town halls. This frightened him and he called out to me: “For what purpose are you doing this?”. I calmly told him that I enjoyed it. He frowned and said warningly, “But this is a public building!” To which I replied even more calmly, “Exactly. And now it belongs to all of us!” The brazen use of this left-wing slogan to describe the free action of an individual decided that he could no longer object and quickly left with his head.
As far as the town hall buildings are concerned, the six town halls of those original historical cities of Prague still exist, even if they no longer welcome burgomasters and aldermen. They are Staroměstská, Novoměstská and Malostranská, as well as Hradčanská, Židovská (Josefov) and Vyšehradská.
Outlying towns that were annexed to Greater Prague in the 1920s also had their own beautiful town halls. Some of them still serve as municipal authorities to this day, such as the Žižkovská town hall (MČ Prague 3), Vysočanská (MČ Prague 9) or Smíchovská town hall (MČ Prague 5).
Some already serve other purposes, such as the Karlín, Bubeneč, or Vršovick town halls:
… and some were rebuilt beyond recognition, such as the one in Vinohrady near us. Míru, today’s municipal office Prague 2
The current parts have offices of various municipal types. Some bear the proud sign City Hall, others are nameless. Some reside in historic buildings, castles and estates, such as the one in Dolní Počernice, others in First Republic villas (e.g. Velká Chuchle), or inhabit structures of the socialist baroque type (see Prague 18 Letňany).
Some town halls are housed in a fire station, some in a former polyclinic, and others in an anonymous panel.
I visited villages that made a very happy impression on me, such as Dolní Počernice, but also Kunratice, Zbraslav or Lysolaje. On the other hand, I was in a hurry from places like Černý Most or Háje, places that are not beautiful at all, although it is clear to me that people of the same qualities or vices live in them as in those charming villages.
It was a possibly really foolish idea, especially considering the fact that I “wasted” half of my precious vacation on it, but I’m happy that I got to know my hometown better. I will never forget my frolicking and I’m sure that it left me with more than the usual walking around Charles Bridge and Hradčany.
If anyone wants to repeat this indiscretion, here is the map of my trip: