Brno's skyline showcases St Peter and Paul's Cathedral with its twin spires. Photo / Unsplash
Prague is so overtouristed that fellow Czech city Brno has become an appealing alternative destination, writes Ronan O’Connell.
Brno was meant to be far less crowded than Prague, yet here I am, squeezed into one of this city’s top attractions, surrounded by 50,000 people. Or, to be precise, by their skeletal remains. Skulls to my right, bones to my left, souls floating all around.
I spent an hour entranced by those body parts, which are artfully arranged on the walls of the eerie basement beneath Brno’s majestic, 800-year-old Church of St James. Some bones are clustered to resemble a Christian cross, others to look like a cellar door, or a towering column.
Those macabre artworks decorate this impressive ossuary. These rooms for storing and displaying skulls and bones grew popular in Europe 600 years ago, as graveyards became full. This is the continent’s second-largest, behind the Paris Catacombs, and houses the remains of 50,000 Czechs who died during Europe’s Thirty Years’ War in the 17th century.
Despite being perhaps Brno’s most famous attraction, this ossuary was all but empty of living humans when I visited in November, while exploring the Old Town, a pretty, historic neighbourhood lined by elegant heritage buildings. This absence of foreign visitors, across all of Brno, was a fine surprise after spending the previous week in the overtouristed cities of Prague, Paris and Amsterdam.
Travellers can avoid such crowds by instead visiting similarly rewarding, yet lower-profile cities. Swap Paris for peaceful Lille, Amsterdam for overlooked Utrecht, or Prague for under-the-radar Brno. Although I adore Prague, the Czech capital has become less and less appealing since I first explored it almost 20 years ago. Granted, it remains thrillingly photogenic because of its Gothic landmarks and splendid riverside setting. But Prague’s beauty is increasingly tainted by throngs of noisy tourists swarming through its Old Town like locusts with passports.
Which is why I found such comfort in Brno. This city of 400,000 people – similar in size to Christchurch – is located about 180km southeast of Prague, near the borders with Austria and Slovakia. On two previous trips to Prague, I’d zoomed straight past Brno while catching the train south to Vienna. This time, I booked a 2.5-hour train ride from Prague, which cost just $30 and was super comfortable.
During the journey, I used the free, on-board Wi-Fi to research my destination. I learned that it’s been inhabited for at least 2000 years, bloomed into a city in the 14th century, and later spent three centuries as the capital of Moravia, one of several former regions of Central Europe that now make up the Czech Republic, also known as Czechia.
The republic was formed in 1993 when Czechoslovakia split into two, with the other half becoming Slovakia. Even Czechoslovakia was a modern concept, born in 1918 after the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian empire.
Soon, the verdant Czech countryside outside my train window was replaced by urban sprawl. The elegant, 1800s Brno station is perfectly positioned for tourists. Within two minutes of leaving its arrival hall, I was meandering through Brno Old Town, an area about 800m wide and 1km long, which was originally a walled city.
Brno, then, cannot match Prague for size and thus for variety of attractions. It also has much more subdued nightlife than Prague, which lures party-loving tourists and groups of stags and hens. Yet, pound-for-pound, Brno is just as fascinating and elegant as its big brother and possesses many of the same attributes: a magnificent castle, engaging museums, stately churches, and a charming Old Town.
Brno is also cheaper, especially compared to Prague’s Old Town, where the prices of meals, drinks, attractions and accommodation can be inflated because of being targeted at foreigners. It feels much safer, particularly at night, a time when Prague becomes flooded by scammers, drug dealers and drunken tourists. It’s far more compact, and thus more walkable, than Prague.
Considering all of this, Brno is perfect for families. Certainly, kids and parents alike will be thrilled by the dramatic setting of 13th-century Spilberk Castle. Atop a hill, its cream facade and terracotta roof were often visible as I wandered the Old Town. While it cannot match the heft and grandeur of Prague Castle, it offers sterling views across Brno, houses museum and art exhibits, and still echoes with terrifying history.
I was free to stroll the manicured grounds of Spilberk Castle before entering its neat and comprehensive Brno City Museum. Via maps, paintings, artefacts and videos, this museum taught me how the castle was built by Czech King Přemysl Otakar II.
Initially, it was a lavish headquarters for the rulers of Moravia, before becoming a notorious and greatly feared place that was often showered in blood. The museum details that, for many centuries, Spilberk contained Moravia’s most brutal prison, where guards delivered daily beatings to the murderers or state prisoners held within.
These days, however, it is a wonderful tourist attraction. Especially during July and August, when it hosts one of Europe’s largest outdoor literary and theatre events, the Summer Shakespeare Festival. From the castle’s lofty perch, I scanned Brno’s low-rise skyline, searching for the belltower of St James Church.
Regrettably, I didn’t have time to ascend that tower to witness its 7.5-tonne bell, the inner workings of its giant clock, and the memorable views from its 43m-high viewing platform. Thankfully, I could admire the church’s ornate woodwork and towering windows before disappearing into its ossuary.
Just as magnificent is nearby St Peter and Paul’s Cathedral, with its two tall spires. The church, extensively remodelled over several centuries, is flanked by the Diocesan Museum, which unravels Brno’s spiritual history, and the Moravian Museum, dedicated to Brno’s past as an imperial capital.
In the 1600s, all roads led to Brno. Nowadays, the train line from Prague speeds most tourists straight past en route to Vienna. But those who do alight here will be grateful, for they’ll discover a miniature version of Prague, without the galling crowds, pesky touts and inflated prices.
The writer travelled independently.