Sunny days aren’t common around here this time of year, so when one comes, you should seize the opportunity—carpe diem, as the Romans used to say—and take a trip to one of the more distant microbreweries (since the nearby one can shelter you no matter how miserable the weather is). That’s what I did this #BeerSaturday.
My journey took me along the recultivated Rokytka Creek. In this context, "recultivated" means the creek was de-regulated and freed from human-made structures. As it turns out, the creek naturally prevents floods much better this way, allowing the stream to overflow into marshlands. Not only does this help retain water during droughts, but it’s also much more wildlife-friendly. Late autumn is typically humid in the Czech Republic, so the marshlands look like this. I might take you on this walk in one of my future posts.
My journey ended at the gardens of Dolní Počernice Chateau. This early 15th-century castle later converted into a Baroque chateau, is not open to the public as it now serves as a children's home. However, you are free to explore its English landscape garden, which is definitely worth a visit—not only for the brewery that has been part of the manor since the 16th century but also because it’s a genuinely pleasant place for a stroll. Or, if you prefer a more demanding activity, it’s a great spot for jogging before enjoying a well-deserved pint. Or five—I am a Czech!
The chateau once had an orangery—a fancy glasshouse for growing fruits that don’t naturally thrive this far north. It has been repurposed into a private international kindergarten where children are taught in English.
Several artificially divided streams of the Rokytka flow through the park, and you can cross them on charming bridges like these:
The streams originate from a large pond above the chateau park. The pond’s water level is higher than the park, held back by a robust dam reinforced by old willow trees.
Speaking of willows, Czech folklore introduces a water spirit that opera lovers may recognize from Antonín Dvořák's Rusalka. The vodník (or “waterman”) appears in Slavic mythology, living in rivers, ponds, or lakes, although there aren't many in Czechia. He occasionally lurks—or worse, draws people into the water to drown them and capture their souls, which he then keeps in mugs. Czech vodník can be a merry fellow, but they’re also known to be quite malicious sons of a... well, definitely not a bitch, as they have nothing in common with dogs. Here’s an example of the cheerful kind, sitting on a willow trunk and smoking a pipe. Why does a water spirit smoke? And how is that even possible? I have no clue, but they do so even in fairytales for children.
This vodník sits in front of the former watermill in his typical green outfit (perhaps missing a colorful ribbon or two).
The original brewery building, where beer brewing dates back to 1562, is now an upscale restaurant serving the local beer, of course. You can also notice a "forest theatre", which was recently renovated, and hosts alternative performances and children's shows in the summer.
And now for the new brewery. As you can see, we Czechs have no problem combining a brewery with a fitness center. Quite the contrary, you’ve got to recharge after a workout, don’t you? I assume the building served as stables originally. Thankfully, we don’t need so many horses these days, so we’ve found another purpose for it. And the best one, I must admit!
You can tell how outdoorsy we Czechs are – it was just like 2°C, but there were still bikers who seized the sunny day to take an extra ride before the real winter starts.
They simply want to ride their bicycle, they want to ride their bike (did you know Freddie Mercury had no special relation to biking?) Anyway, breweries are the best places to eat in the Czech Republic, and often the only venues you cannot seat yourself without booking a table ahead. No wonder Počernický Pivovar was booked, but there were drinking spots, fortunately.
Rezervace means booked. I believed you've cracked this code ;)
Nettles Lager
I couldn’t resist kicking off my beer tasting with the second most unique beer on the list. We often use nettles to dye beer green in the spring, but this one was a lager with a distinct nettle flavor. It’s less bitter than you’d expect from a Bohemian-style lager. The nettle flavor takes center stage (we sometimes eat young nettles in salads, believing they’re healthy), and its earthy notes dominate here. Blended with malty tones in the aftertaste, it was an unusual experience that I enjoyed. That said, one pint felt like enough. An extra point for the courage to experiment!
Saint Martin’s 11°
Of the two Bohemian lagers on tap, I was assured this cold-hopped one was superior. It is indeed a crafted beer, blending all the flavors you’d expect from this style. However, it’s what I call a “touristy” beer. It has everything perfectly in place but lacks a distinctive personality—or, as I like to say, “beersonality.” Don’t get me wrong, it’s an excellent beer I’d gladly recommend anywhere outside the Czech Republic. Yet, here at home, we have brews I’d rather treat you to.
13° Dark Lager
My dear readers know this one is a Christmas brew—we love strong dark beers in the winter. I thoroughly enjoyed this one. It opens mildly with roasted malt and a hint of chocolate, but its robust body pleases your taste buds with a wide palette of dark lager tones. It’s a proper beer where the brewmaster wasn’t scrooge with malt and hops. It almost felt like a dish in itself.
Gingerbread Ale
And then, the best beer of the day arrived. This Gingerbread Ale is a seasonal special, and the season is nearly over, so you’ll have to come back next year. Okay, we Czechs are really into gingerbread, so I may be biased. However, after inquiring with the waitress, I learned they mix maple syrup with malt to enhance the body and add undisclosed spices to the hops to deepen the flavor. The result is truly unique. I believe I detected star anise combined with maple syrup in the opening, with cardamom in the aftertaste, rounded out by a touch of honey. A truly remarkable brew!
This is my #BeerSaturday challenge post, and I would like to invite 
Přiznám se, že mi přijde zvláštní překládat text z angličtiny do češtiny. Navzdory tomu (a nebo spíše právě proto), že jsem ho napsal já. Je tam spousta věcí, které našinci přijdou nudné nebo samozřejmé, případně obojí. A taky je tam spousta slovních hříček a narážek, které přeložit neumím, nebo mám dojem, že bych je musel složitě vysvětlovat. Možná ne, možná by byly srozumitelné i bez vysvětlivek.
Nicméně tady na Hive se snažím cílit na publikum, které si text svede přeložit samo. Každý to máme jinak. Ale děje se to, moje česky psané články sem tam komentují lidé ze zahraničí častěji než Češi a Slováci, a tak to asi funguje. Taky si svedu strojově přeložit německy psaný článek, a i když u toho nejásám, obsah pochopím. Jestli si chcete počíst o procházce kolem Rokytky, a hlavně zámeckým parkem v Dolních Počernicích, budete si muset vystačit s originálem nebo s překladem, který obstará váš prohlížeč.
Na oplátku se vám dostane bonusu, který zřejmě ostatní přejdou. Praha má různá zákoutí, a dost se liší, pokud jde o obyvatelstvo. Sídliště se postupně stávají ostrůvky česko-slovenskými, zatímco cokoli nepanelového je zajímavé i pro ostatní Pražany. Tady je vhodné poznamenat, že zhruba každý sedmý Pražan se nenarodil na území bývalého Československa (včetně Podkarpatské Rusi), což z dotyčného ale v mých očích nedělá Nepražana. Takoví lidé tady žijí dlouhá léta, účastní se různých kulturních akcí, nezřídkakdy je i pořádají, zakládají zajímavé podniky, spolčují se ve spolcích, jsou členy sportovních klubů a dokonce i Sokola, a tak dále a tak dále. Pravda, jejich čeština bývá slabá. Často proto, že Češi se prostě s cizinci nechtějí potkávat, a tak ji nemají kde pilovat. Ruku na srdce, kdy jste si naposledy popovídali v jakémkoli jazyce s cizincem, který se tu usadil?
Z bývalé oranžérie je dneska anglická škola. Dolní Počernice jsou asi „dobrá“ čtvrť, a tak do ní chodí i děti z českých rodin, ale taky tu žije dost smíšených rodin. Což mně osobně přijde strašně fajn. Den Díkůvzdání se slaví nejen ve Spojených státech, a tady svým způsobem taky. Menu je anglicky (ale ne úplně správně) s českými vysvětlivkami, nebo tak na mě působí. V pivovaru jsem zaznamenal nejméně tři neslovanské jazyky. Urazí to někoho? Nebo to někomu přijde divné? Možná, ale tady zkrátka žijí Pražané (je to úplný kout Prahy, ale stále ještě Praha), kteří se narodili třebas i několik tisíc kilometrů od Staromáku.
Pivo je tu opravdu dobré. Snad to překladač nezkreslí. Ale v Lidlu je samozřejmě levnější!
