Brno: Your Alligator is Rubbish, Mate

Reader discretion is advised due to content that may disturb. This post contains imagery of deceased persons.  

Brno, Czech Republic

The capital of Moravia (the country's only main historical region aside from Bohemia), Brno was a city we wanted to explore mainly for the mummies in the Capuchin Monastery crypt as well as the cathedral and castle. 

Upon trying to find accomodation for Brno, we discovered that a billion people had descended into campgrounds like the MotoGP was on or something. Well, it so happens that the MotoGP was taking place that weekend in the city, and motorcycle race enthusiasts were flocking from every country in Europe. Valentino Rossi was only 8km from us, and fell off his bike while practicing. True story. I looked it up. Luckily the camping still had a bit of space and we set up camp on a little sloped piece of grass. The cars had to be parked separately, and a resident dog liked to lie down where campers were trying to park their cars. As we parked, a Frenchman saw our number plate, rolled down his window and exclaimed "Francais?!" We had to let him down, saying the car was French but the occupants were Néo-Zéalandais. He shouted "Auckland!" and drove off. Later we overheard their group discussing "I am ze boss", "You are ze boss?". Those quirky French. 

Our first stop in the city was the Capuchin Monastery. However, we didn't go into the lovely main entrance - we found the crypt around the back down a shoulder-width alleyway. We had heard that the crypt had perfect conditions for preservation, and the corpses contained within were excellent specimens of mummified remains. 

The first mummy that is presented is Franz Baron von Trenck, a wealthy military commander who wished to be buried without ceremony and only a rock under his head. This head was subject to quite a bit of myth, as his skull was much less well-preserved as the rest of his body. As you can see with his feet above, his skin was still mostly intact and looked like old paper. Conversely, his skull was entirely exposed as if it came from a bare skeleton, and aparently the vertebrae attaching the head to the spine aren't connected. Theories that the head was secreted away by a curiosity hunter and replaced by a random monk's skull were proven to be false when two separate teams of forensic experts matched the DNA of the body to the skull in 1986 and 1998. 

The natural conditions in the crypt were such that not only bodily tissues were preserved through mummification, but so was cloth. You could see the hoods of the habits on some of the monks were complete, as were the rope belts tied around their waists. On the more recently buried monks, the facial tissue was still intact enough that you could feel their personalities, which made it seem like they could suddenly sit up and start talking to you. In this way, it felt like being in a horror film where the mummies would become undead and shuffle towards you in their thirst for living flesh. Yet at the same time, being able to see more than the bone of skull made them feel more like people who you could relate to. Combined with Kutna Hora, I began to feel that the Czech liked to keep around macabre reminders of their dead. 

We passed up seeing the nearby "mechanical Bethlehem", which looked to be some automated nativity scene, and instead walked up to the cathedral, through the main square (where a triumphant Heracles reined in the bad doggie Cerberus) and to the old Town Hall. We were disappointed by a plasticy looking alligator that is referred to as the Brno dragon, and the wheel with a story stood unimpressively on one wall. The story goes that a cartwright made a wager with his friend that he could chop down a tree, craft a wheel from it and roll it all the way to Brno (50 kilometres away) before sundown. He succeeded, but a dangerous rumour started whereby the devil helped him out, and no one wanted to talk to him or purchase goods so he died in penniless and friendless. 

On our way to see the plague column in another square, we were sidetracked by a flock of people in costume parading down the street. We should have suspected something like this, as earlier that morning we had seen a man dressed like a musketeer (complete with large musket over one shoulder) strolling along casually and had wondered if he worked at a heavily themed restaurant. 

The parade had to stop to let a tram through the square, which was a hilarious clash of eras. Had they not planned for this beforehand? It turned out that this was part of celebrations for the 370th Day of Brno - an anniversary commemorating successful defence of the city from the Swedish army during the Thirty Years War. 

The plague column itself was like every other that we had seen, but a nearby band drew our attention for their catchy and jaunty tunes. We listened for a while, and as we walked away they started up with their own version of ACDC's TNT, which was a treat. 

We took in a few more sights that didn't really stand out to me, and we actually forgot to see the castle (we did a drive by later, and concluded it didn't require a visit). 

Opting not to cram ourselves into another camping full of MotoGP fans, we booked a room in what turned out to be a university dormitory that had been vacated due to the holidays. It was cheap, and there were desks and a little kitchen so we were super happy. If there had been wifi, all the boxes would have been ticked. 

The spartan corridor and beer stickers on the doors brought back memories of my university days, which weren't so long ago I suppose, but feel like an age. When hopping around from city to city, country to country, time seems to pass slowly.