Last November, my partner Josh and I travelled to the Czech Republic, my birth land, to visit family, eat delicious food, and take in the rich history and culture.
As a music lover, I tend to over-complicate trips by lugging instruments along, so we decided we’d pack a banjo and a guitar so we could share songs on our travels. When our good friend Luke English heard about our itinerary, he set up a visit with friends in Germany at the same time, and he insisted we plan some musical adventures together.
From Paris to Bavaria: travel troubles begin
Josh and I decided we’d fly to Paris, then make our way to Bavaria, a state in the southeast of Germany, where we had a gig booked with Luke and his brother Drew.
When we got to Paris, we found out our instruments were lost. Well, they weren’t actually lost: they’d come out at the wrong gate—but we weren’t allowed back through security, and NOBODY at the airport could figure out how to retrieve them!
We tried in vain for hours; we didn’t want to miss the last train that could get us to the show on time. Finally, we decided to abandon our instruments, including the banjo that Josh had made by hand, at the airport to be sent back to Canada.
We boarded the train and hoped for the best, but still ended up missing the gig due to rail delays. Luke and Drew put together a duo set and the show went on without us. I crashed at our hotel in Strasbourg feeling exhausted, anxious, and upset about letting our friends down.
A magical day in Bavarian Tuzenberg
The next day we arrived in Tunzenberg, a magical Bavarian village with houses built on a hill around a schloss, or small castle. It was Josh’s birthday, so we roamed through sugar beet fields in search of cake slices from a bakery in the next village. As we took the long way back through the forest, scanning the land for mushrooms and roe deer, I was transported to the fairy tales of my youth and felt an overwhelming sense of calm and home.
We ended this perfect day at the Kulturbrauerei Tunzenberg (Tunzenberg Cultural Brewery). A collective of local musicians uses this old building as a rehearsal space, concert venue, and festival ground. We played songs in the sun, then drank witbier (white beer) by the woodstove, making plans to meet the English brothers in Prague and then play a final show together in Bavaria. Luke found an old guitar and banjo in sort-of-working order for us to borrow.
Family time in Bohemia
Then we were off for family time in Bohemia, the western part of the Czech Republic. We explored castle ruins, revisited the smells and tastes of my first years, and sang Czech folk songs with my uncle.
We reunited with the brothers in Prague and spent a day walking past historic buildings and admiring epic views of Prague Castle. I was relieved to see that some of my favourite underground venues were still going strong, including Salmovská Literary Cafe and Balbínova Poetic Pub. In fact, they were full that night, so we checked out some open mics instead.
At Metro Comedy Club, a basement stage run by two female comedians, Josh and Luke tried out five minutes of stand-up comedy to see if their humour would translate overseas. Josh got a few laughs, but Luke’s unique brand of punny comedy really had the room roaring.
Our next stop was ŽiŽKOVŠIŠKA Gallery. Behind its dingy door, we found a space that featured local artwork, a sprout garden at the bar—and a bumping open stage. We mingled with cool Czech and international musicians, including a young man from Liverpool who knew every Beatles song ever written, and performed a set to end the night.
A night of music in Loučeň
Before leaving the Czech Republic, we spent a night with my artsy cousin Lucie in nearby Loučeň, drinking pivo (beer) and singing songs in the local pub while kids chased each other around the pool table.
Our last musical adventure was performing at an artist collective in Bogen for our friend Marie’s birthday. The community produced an upright bass for me, and we put on an upbeat show, complete with Luke’s first attempt at square dance calling. I guess Josh won the trust of the locals, as one of the building’s residents lent him a violin worth 15,000 euros to play during our set! I wonder how such a fine instrument felt about being used as a vessel for scratchy old-time Americana tunes?
The power of music in travel
Experiencing live music while travelling is a great way to meet locals, find unique cultural spaces, and get closer to the pulse of the community. Next time you travel, try to find the grittiest underground space and see a random show where you know nothing about the artist. I promise you will not be disappointed.
Our instruments eventually made it home, but—funny twist—the Paris airport had to arrange the delivery after WestJet forgot about them (again).
