A slice of classic Americana in the heart of the Czech Republic, with just a hint of Top Forty flavor

By Sam Corbett

Despite cheap drinks, this saloon is a ghost town (Photo by Sam Corbett).

In any other bar in Prague, walking in and being surrounded by skulls while a vulture lurks above you might be disquieting. But at a country-western bar, it’s just par for the course.

Country-and-western music has been extremely popular in the Czech Republic for decades. Under Communist rule, the appeal of songs about the open road and freedom inspired hope among the downtrodden citizens.

“The situation was very interesting under Communism,” said Ruth Ellen Gruber, an expert on cowboy culture in Europe. “The authorities permitted country music and bluegrass, but controlled it too, as bands had to sing in Czech.”

Europe’s first country music radio station was here, and the much-loved “Tramp Movement,” in which urbanites spend weekends in the country “roughing it” as if they’re in the American west, infuses local country-western with a flavor all its own.

“The Tramp movement, based in part on the romance of the American west, developed after World War One and created a strong tradition of sitting around campfires, strumming guitars and singing,” Gruber said. “Many American folk songs, translated into Czech, were incorporated into the acoustic Tramp music repertoire decades ago.”

Bars and restaurants that play country music in both English and Czech can be found nearly everywhere in Prague. However, looking beyond the music and going for the sheer kitsch factor, it’d be hard to find a place more country than Country Saloon U Bocmana, on Korunni street in Vinohrady.

On a Saturday night, U Bocmana seemed relatively innocuous from the outside, perched on a quiet street corner. But stepping through its doors was like being transported straight to the American heartland.

“My God,” said NYU student (and friend) Lora Evinger, a Minneapolis native. “It’s like an Applebee’s and a Chili’s had a baby!” (For Czech readers, these are two American heartland restaurant chains, think Potrefina Husa placed on a highway?).

It was hard to know where to look first. Rustic wooden booths, each with a hand-painted sign labeled with a different one of the United States, surround a bar right out of a Clint Eastwood movie. License plates and vintage advertisements for American beers cover so much of the walls that it’s hard to tell what material they are made from. Whether inferior American beer deserves to be featured on a bar’s walls in the land that invented the pilsner is debatable, but as dedication to the theme, it works.

Topping off the décor, literally, are several cattle skulls complete with horns, and one very menacing stuffed vulture lurking among the rafters. From ceiling to floor, it seems likely that trying to fit one more piece of Americana into the Saloon would cause an explosion likely to reanimate the corpse of Johnny Cash.

The bar was rather sparsely populated. A cluster of 40-something Czech women sat at one of the booths, chatting up a portly, balding man who ran back and forth from their table to the bar, where he shared bartending duties with a younger man, who turned out to be his son. They opened the Saloon together and run it themselves, and while the language barrier proved an impediment in our conversations, they could not have been friendlier or more welcoming.

Taking advantage of that welcoming atmosphere were a gaggle of intoxicated Americans, keeping the father-son bartenders busy all night.

“This place is awesome, dude!” said Paul Rasmussen, a red-cheeked and square-jawed former resident of St. Louis, Missouri, straining to be heard over a Kenny Chesney song. “I feel like I could be back in my hometown!”

Fueling the party atmosphere was the Saloon’s range of very reasonably priced drinks, including large beers for 19 crowns (just under $1) and liquor ranging from delicious 25 crown shots of Bozkov Peprmint (even more delicious when bought in great quantities by Missourians) to 60 crown glasses of absinthe.

The most unexpected thing about U Bocmana was the musical selection, namely how frequently non-country songs came on. Shania Twain and Taylor Swift were prominently featured, but Rihanna and Justin Timberlake came on just as often.

As for home-grown Czech music… well, maybe next time. For now, Rascal Flatts’ “God Bless The Lonely Road” is playing, and one of the Czech women is slow-dancing with an American wearing a cattle skull on his head, so it’s time to head out into the December night.

Country Saloon U Bocmana
Korunni 101
+420 224 256 13
Open 11:00-24:00
Metro: Jiriho z Podebrad

Sam Corbett is a third-year student at New York University, studying sociology and journalism. He is from Potomac, Maryland.