The initial perception of the basilica on Svatý Kopeček is shaped by the wide side buildings, suggesting a noble palace rather than a church, and by the combination of the egg-yolk yellow and white not uncommon on Mitteleuropean façades. The white plaster makes up the bulk of the façade, but more striking is the yellow of the pilasters on the walls of both the church and the side wings. The pilasters, adorned with beige Ionic capitals, end in sculptures on the wings. The row of capitals and sculptures, together with two thick cornices, forms a strong horizontal accent. The green spires of the church begin with small domes, which look like made of tent fabric, alternately swelling and contracting between the poles in stronger wind.
A group of pensioners thanks the tour guide with a round of applause. A man who has cycled up here is having a rest on the side staircase, not bothered by the scorching afternoon heat. In the shade of a tree-lined avenue that begins a few dozen metres away is a simple cruciform sculpture, behind which a man and woman in their thirties lie in the grass, chatting listlessly. A bit further off, someone is walking a dog. In the distance, high above the trees, I see a field on the edge of the town, the towers of the Cathedral of Saint Wenceslas, the high-rise building that I noticed near the railway station before, a few tall chimneys here and there, and the gentle outline of the mountains which have turned pale grey due to the haze.
September 2016