"Prague Cafe"

So the Czech Republic has a new president who happens to be the same one as the old one. President Zeman won 51.4% of votes, seeing off his lacklustre opponent Jiri Drahos. The electorate is almost evenly split. But not geographically or socially.

"Not my president" wrote one of my friends in a Facebook post. I am not surprised by his preference. My friend is young, well-educated and well-travelled (I first met him when he was living in Oxford), which puts him in a constituency which voted solidly for Drahos - 90.3% of all Czechs living abroad voted for Drahos or perhaps should I say against Zeman. My friend is one of those people that President Zeman dismisses as "Prague cafe", even though my friend does not live in Prague.

I don't want, as a foreigner, to get drawn into making political comments on my host homeland and it is very easy to see this election through the eyes of Western European and a Brit at that. But I thought it might be useful to look at this phrase and what it means and why it chimes with just over half the electorate. In order to do so it helps to look at the two words separately.

Prague voted strongly for Drahos (68.8%) as did other similar cities. Like London and many of other capitals Prague is seen by inhabitants of other regions as getting too much of the cake (its wages are much higher than the national average) and as elitist and out of touch. Local and national politicians play on these grievances.

Cafe is an equally damning word. It contrasts with the pub, which is so much part of many people's lives here. The pub is for hard-working salt-of-the earth types who drink that symbol of Czech identity - beer. What is more there seems to be a historic memory bound up in this. One hundred years ago this year the Czechoslovak First State achieved its independence from Austria and what culture is Austria, especially Vienna, renowned for but cafe culture?

There is also an unspoken swipe at the Czech Republic's first president, Vaclav Havel, who in the early days of his presidency was to be seen in Cafe Slavia (shown above) holding meetings with his ministers and visiting foreign politicians. If Havel was a man of the Prague Cafe, Zeman portrays himself as the man in the pub.

"Prague Cafe" is a clever political phrase, playing on all sorts of conscious and subconscious associations. In English we might say the "chattering classes" but it is bigger and deeper than that.

Cafe Alpenrose

My husband and I had been walking around Vyssi Brod and needed a coffee. We walked past the many Vietnamese shops on the town square with their usual assortment of cheap goods and their owners calling to us in German to walk in. And then we came across the Cafe Alpenrose (Alpska Ruze).

We wandered in and were immediately struck by the weird 'bohemian' decoration and architecture. It felt like one of those arty hippish cafes of my 1970s youth. Much of the furniture was homemade, with bits of old furniture combining with mdf, and was individualistic (to say the least). As well as excellent coffees and cakes, the shop sold wicker baskets, wild honey, koh-i-noor art products, Czech porcelain and crystal. They also had some booklets for sale on places to visit. They were quite frankly cheap to look at but dear to buy. However the booklet suited my research needs so I bought it. "You want this!" said the owner, chuckling as I handed over the money.

I went back the other day and took this photo for the blog. I was on my own and sat and watched the punters. "Gruss Gott," said a painfully thin Austrian lady as she came in.

"Gruss Gott!" came the reply. Her small son and husband followed. The little boy was into everything in the cafe, asking his frazzled mother to buy first a book, then a rubber, then a pack of pencils. As more punters walked in it became clear that this was very much a German or Austrian haunt, not a word of Czech to be heard. But then I suppose Vyssi Brod historically has always been a German-speaking town.

At the end of my visit I wandered into the toilets: wonderful. They looked like they were built into a thick stone wall or a cliff wall. I left the cafe, as I had on my previous visit, with a smile on my face.

Czech Cafe Culture

The Czechs have a strong cafe culture, a legacy of their time under the rule of Vienna. In summer you sit outside under awnings watching the world go by, in winter you sit inside supping warming drinks before braving the snow and ice. This picture shows one of my favourite cafes "Two Widows" in Cesky Krumlov - an ideal place for both winter and summer cafe culture.

I have spent many a pleasant hour sitting in Czech cafes, drinking coffee and watching others doing the same. Life comes and goes there. Old friends greet each other, women arrive with bags of shopping and chatter. The Czechs have a particular line in elegant women over a certain age, who sit upright at their table and hold their cups with little finger extended. At other tables business is being done over the coffee cups, men produce laptops from briefcases and discuss spreadsheets, shake hands and go their way. Backpackers compare notes on hostels and restaurants, talk of the next stop on their tour of Europe or discuss the news from home loudly.

A middle-aged man pulls up in a vintage sportscar of which he is clearly very proud, he combs his hair in the rear-view mirror and then takes his seat at a prominent table. He is waiting for someone. Sure enough he is joined by a rather beautiful young man. At one table sits a small boy, his father is talking to a friend at another table. The boy's father has given him a gameboy to play with and a milkshake. The boy rests his head on the table and bends over the game – pointedly displaying both concentration and boredom at the same time. Then my husband and son join me and I must stop my game of people-gazing.