Today’s piece comes from Charlotte Cook—a writer, traveler, and brewer who publishes the Drinking in Strange Places newsletter. Charlotte has written for Everyday Drinking about Kazakhstan cider, Asturias cider, and Bavaria’s Zoigl beer culture.
Czechia (aka the Czech Republic) is known for its big flavors. Lukr-poured beers with sturdy heads, pork knuckles that seem more like half a leg, and spicy pickled cheese all truly lead to sensory overload. Yet the Czechs also do delicate very well, and whilst the region of Moravia is the best-known Czech wine area, there are small and ancient vineyards within the city of Prague, including the botanical garden and Prague Castle itself.
A modern capital city isn’t the first place you’d think of to discover a flourishing wine industry, but Prague has 180 square meters of green space per resident, making it one of the greenest cities in Europe. The vineyards ingeniously use space that few other crops could thrive in (and would be unsuitable for recreation ) by snaking up the steep and rocky slopes leading to Prague Castle, turning what was once a defensive feature into something that can be used to bring people together.
The vines at Prague Castle were allegedly planted by St. Wenceslas himself, the very same Good King to whom the carol alludes. Although this origin story is likely apocryphal, the vineyard still bears his name. Historians now date the vineyard to the 14th century, nearly half a millennia after Wenceslas’ tenure, but the grapes were likely planted to play a role in the liturgical life of the castle.
Christianity came to central Europe with the Byzantine missionaries Cyril and Methodius (the so called Apostles of the Slavs) in the 9th century, about the same time a defensive fort was constructed where the castle now stands, and Christianity really took hold in the region. Although the vines came much later, along with development of the medieval castle, it is thought they were grown in order to make sacramental wine, to be used in the ritual of the Holy Communion.
From its medieval origins the vineyard passed through the hands of several church orders, before being sold to the wealthy Richter family in the 19th century, who both tended the vines and built a spectacular classicist-style villa above them, where today you can sample the output.



The Wenceslas vineyard has had a turbulent history. As in many parts of Europe under Communist control, the 20th century was especially unkind to the vines. Immediately following the war, the villa was taken over by the Association of Worker’s Universities, and the vines began to fall into neglect. In 1956, the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic took control of the villa and the vineyard, at a time when matters of state were of greater importance than the harvest. The regime would have seen little value in the small vineyard, where collectivisation would have been impossible and its output unworthy of consideration, and so no one cared for it.
The fall of socialism, which came to Czechoslovakia in 1989 with the Velvet Revolution, allowed a return to winemaking that was not wholly controlled by the state. In 1990, the vineyard began to be tentatively restored along with Villa Richter, but it was not until 2005 that full restoration took place, to coincide with the 1,100th birthday of its namesake saint.
The restoration was overseen by Jaroslav Hykl, a Czech wine expert and now the owner of the villa and vineyard. Hykl took care to select varieties of grapes that would survive in the harsh and changeable Czech weather. Having traveled to pretty much every wine-growing region, yet having a great interest in Czech agronomy, Hykl was easily able to settle two varieties. Today the vineyard is comprised of riesling rynsky (aka Rhine riesling) from slightly further south than Prague in Slovakia, and rulandské modré (aka pinot noir) reportedly brought to Bohemia by Holy Roman Emperor Charles IV around the same time the original vines were planted.
Today the 2,000 vines produce about 2,500 bottles annually. The output is so small that the only place to try wine is from the restaurant in the restored Villa Richter. From the wine pergola, overlooking the red roof tiles of the city below, you can sample the refreshing riesling, with gooseberry notes underlined by an uncommon acidity.
But the views and the wine combine to create something more complex than sampling in isolation. Here, you can drink and savor history in a city where —both inspiring and horrifying—is as much a denizen as any other inhabitant.



That said, the vineyard is very much a summer experience, as trekking up the many steps in the gloomy Czech winter doesn’t hold much appeal. There are, however, other equally as fascinating wines made within the city limits that can be enjoyed in much cozier surroundings.
Continuing the theme, the Wenceslas Wine Cooperative produces a small number of bottles in their collective vineyard, made by amateur oenologists with the support of nearby professionals at the Wilomenna Winery. Located in Prague 9 district (a trek from the city center), the small vineyard and tasting room is open throughout the winter, and produces wines using local grapes such as Moravian muscat and blauer portugieser (a red variety grown throughout central Europe).
Prague is a city that sets itself up well for winter, and with a cold wind blowing along the Vltava there plenty of warm and welcoming bars for when the fairy-tale surroundings threaten to take a slightly Brothers Grimm turn. Wine Not, a stone’s throw from the Dancing House, specializes in Czech and central European wines and has wooden beds to sprawl out on whilst you work your way through the by-the-glass menu. Similarly, Vinograf near the Charles Bridge has a grotto-like atmosphere and extensive bottle list with many Bohemian wines to choose from.
There’s something magical about drinking wine in a place like Prague. The Czech wines use the same ancient local grapes that were nearly lost to history when the Soviet-style system of agriculture took over much of central Europe. Although there is little that can be done to prise the foamy beer from the grasp of many visitors to Prague, do take a little time to seek out the less well-known wines from the city, and taste a little bit of the Czech revival alongside it.


