I was there in early August, 1968. We came in by train from Austria. As soon as we crossed the border, we realized we were no longer in the West. Czech trains were all pulled by steam locomotives, each of which had a big red star above the cow catcher.
I was with a student group and when we got to Prague, we were met by our minders, two pretty 20-something women who we figured were from the Czech version of the KGB. They never let us out of their sight. In the streets of Prague, demonstrations were going on--we figured they were in favor of the government of the reform-minded Alexander Dubček.
We ate at some of the better restaurants and the food was good, but the choices could be limited--"coffee, tea or milk--take your pick as long as it's coffee" (at the time, I was a tea-drinker)--and when you were served coffee, your cup was always filled with grounds, or "mud" as we called it.
Despite it being the capital of a Second World country, I came away thinking that Prague was the world's most beautiful city.
We left three weeks before the Russians invaded.
Had the same experience.
Crossed no-mans land from Germany in modern Deutsche Bundesbahn train and then transferred to a decidedly less nice car pulled by the steam locomotive. I remember the ka-bang as we clattered over their older rail beds. Big difference from the sleek German trains.
And of course who could forget the Czech soldiers who searched us going in, and confiscated my copy of Time magazine for that week. Also went through my clothing and asked how many pairs of Levi’s I had - people were smuggling them in for sale. Commutards didn’t like that.
We didn’t have minders but were clearly followed when we were downtown in Prague. One of the dopes stopped in front of a women’s lingerie store and stared in the windows as we were looking at a restaurant menu next door. We took to whistling for him to keep up with us.
And all the women were pretty. After being in Germany for two weeks prior I was shocked to discover that Czech women were WAY better looking: lots of Paulina Porizkova’s teetering around on their stilettos!
It shocked me. I couldn’t imagine these women tolerating the drab, shabby life being inflicted on them by the dumbthug Communists. Since it was 4 years after the invasion, there were Russian soldiers patrolling in the streets in pairs - not a lot, but visible.
I knew then that Communism couldn’t last. These were people NOT having fun - you can’t live like that forever, and certainly not in the very center of Europe.