Every street in Prague, one by one.
K vysoké cestě was nameless until 1906.
K vysoké cestě leads to Vysoká cesta, a road whose name translates as ‘The High Way’ or similar (not a ‘highway’, though, and ‘cesta’ has more than one translation).
I would reveal more, but I’m trying to get all the Podolí streets done before I move on to Braník, and there are three to go before I can do that. But I will say that Vysoká cesta reminds me of no other street that I’ve written about so far.
Na Zvoničce was built around 1934.
A ‘zvonička’ is a bell tower. Zvonička was also the name of a farmstead round here, existing until about 1850.
I went to Google looking for specifics, but mainly came back realising just how awful (and, somehow, condescending) Google’s AI search results can be, including in Czech.
Na Zvoničce was the length it is now; in 1952, it gained The Street Formerly Known As Podhájská (see https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/09/22/prague-4-day-180-v-podhaji/ for an explanation of that name).
In 1957, the two were separated; Na Zvoničce became Na Zvoničce I, and Podhájská became… yes, Na Zvoničce II.
In 1973, Na Zvoničce II became Gončarenkova, which has a story (or two) well worth reading if you haven’t already: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/09/20/prague-4-day-178-goncarenkova/). At least one Na Zvoničce I street sign hasn’t been taken down yet.
V podhájí was built in 1911.
A ‘háj’ – the plural of which is Háje, as in the last stop on the red metro line – is a ‘grove’, or a dense collection of trees which isn’t big enough to qualify as a forest.
I guess a reasonable translation of ‘podhájí’ would be ‘undergrowth’. Once upon a time, it was quite forested (groved?) round here, hence Podhájí becoming a local place name.
There are at least ten places across the country called Podhájí too, and a town of about 1,150 people called Podhájska in the Nitra region of Slovakia.
Za skalkou was built in 1925.
A ‘skalka’ is a rock garden, or a rockery. It’s the diminutive of ‘skála’, which is a rock or a cliff. Or a crag, if you want multiple options.
Once upon a time, the area round here was called Za skalkou (we can find that on maps from around 1850).
Once housing construction started in the area, the ‘skalka’ disappeared.
Gončarenkova was built in 1934.
From 1934 to 1952, the street was called Podhájská; from 1952 to 1957, it was called Na Zvoničce; from 1957 to 1973, it was called Na Zvoničce II. I’m saying nothing about those names, as all will become clear in the next few days.
Ivan Hryhorovych Hončarenko was born in Sushylyne, a village in Sumy Oblast, Ukraine, in 1920. In 1940, he joined the Red Army.
Graduating from military school in 1941, he was assigned to a tank brigade on the Central Front, where he fought from June to December of that year.
In 1944, Honcharenko became commander of a tank in the 1st Tank Battalion of the 63rd Guards Tank Brigade “Chelyabinsk”.
In April 1945, he distinguished himself in battles for the liberation of the Ukrainian SSR and Poland, as well as in street battles in Berlin. In the following month, the Prague Uprising would occur (see https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/02/05/prague-4-day-25-5-kvetna-5-may/ for a primer).
In the very early hours of 9 May 1945, a reconnaissance platoon of three tanks made up the first group of Soviet troops to enter Prague (from the north-west). Honcharenko was in charge of one of these tanks.
The Germans had signed an unconditional surrender on 8 May, and most of them left Prague on that night. One German unit remained, and spent the night at Klárov (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/09/08/prague-1-day-51-klarov/).
The three Soviet tanks set out from Prague Castle (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/09/02/prague-1-day-1-u-svateho-jiri-st-georges-square/), moving along Chotkova (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/09/07/prague-1-day-10-chotkova/).
The purpose of this journey was to reach Mánes Bridge (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/09/08/prague-1-day-57-manesuv-most/) and ensure the rest of the tank brigade a smooth journey to the city centre on the other side.
The three tanks drove right in front of German self-propelled guns; at least one of the Germans opened fire.
Honcharenko was ejected from the commander’s hatch. He was killed by shrapnel and the explosion of a German anti-tank shell. He was 24 or 25.
Honcharenko was posthumously awarded the Order of the Patriotic War, 1st degree.
He was buried in a mass grave in front of the Rudolfinum on Smetana Square (which was later renamed after fallen Soviet soldiers in 1952, and is now https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/10/22/prague-1-day-211-namesti-jana-palacha/).
The grave outlived the Velvet Revolution; in 1998, construction of an underground garage meant that all remains of Soviet soldiers were transferred to the Soviet war cemetery at Olšany.
But let’s rewind a little.
On 29 July 1945, meanwhile, the Monument to Soviet Tank Crews was erected on present-Náměstí Kinských (in Smíchov); the square (which will get its own post in… 2027, at this rate) would be renamed in 1952 as náměstí Sovětských tankistů, which barely needs translating.
The dedication ceremony was led by Ivan Koněv, who has the unique feat of being the person who the first ever street I wrote about was named after, and the first ever person whose street has since been renamed (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2022/11/18/prague-3-day-1-konevova/).
In 1956, when Soviet tanks entered Budapest, the regime had all the engine parts and transmission removed. It’s almost like they realised the population wasn’t that into them and would like an opportunity to take action against them, isn’t it?
(tank pictured in 1961; credit to FOTO:FORTEPAN / Gyöngyi)
After the Velvet Revolution in 1989 – by which time Soviet tanks were mainly associated, in the public imagination, with the invasion of 1968, rather than 1945 – it was pretty clear that this monument was no longer welcome.
One night in April 1991, a 23-year-old art student, one David Černý, painted the tank pink. The Soviet Union – about as dynamic as the tank by this stage – protested, Černý was charged with hooliganism, and the authorities had the tank painted green again.
These quite incredible pictures have been shared on Wikipedia by a user called Meloun1212, to whom I am infinitely grateful.
In June 1991 – by which time Černý had been freed – the tank was moved to Kbely Military Museum, and then to Military Technical Museum in Lešany.
In 2005, a motion to have the monument restored was put forward by the Communist Party, for whom ‘ability to read the room’ was clearly not a prerequisite for membership.
In 2011, David Černý, by this time celebrated as a rebel rather than imprisoned as a hooligan, painted the tank pink again, and it was given an outing on the Vltava to celebrate twenty years since Soviet tanks had left Czechoslovakia.
In 2022, Černý painted the torso of the tank blue and yellow in support of Ukraine, a country where the moment at which Russian tanks leave cannot come soon enough: https://www.expats.cz/czech-news/article/david-cerny-s-iconic-soviet-tank-painted-blue-and-yellow-to-support-ukraine.
Several pics of the tank through the ages are on this recent article by ČT24: https://ct24.ceskatelevize.cz/clanek/domaci/tank-cislo-23-ruzovy-osvoboditel-ktery-nikdy-neosvobozoval-359334.
U Družstva Práce was built in 1955.
A ‘družstvo’ is a ‘cooperative’ (it’s also a ‘team’).
‘Práce’ is ‘work’, otherwise known as the reason if I ever skip a day in this series. Or a week. Or a month.
Putting the two together, a building cooperative called Práce built the houses in this street.
Sitteho was built in 1955.
This is one of those cases where I’d like my (brief) research to tie in with itself a little bit better.
The Pražský uličník – AKA my usual first port of all – says that Jindřich Sitte was the progressive headmaster of a school in Braník. It doesn’t say which school, but it does give Sitte’s years on the planet as being 1888 to 1951.
Websites relating to Police nad Metují – a town of 4,100 people in the Hradec Králové region – say that a Jindřich Sitte was born there in, yes, 1888, and died in, yes, 1951.
They also say he was a landscape painter: here’s one of his pieces, auctioned in 2020: https://www.obrazyvaukci.cz/polozka/jindrich-sitte_venkovske-staveni-58808.
You would assume these are the same person, but you would also assume that there would be at least one search result mentioning both all the paintings and all the schoolmastering. There isn’t. And Czech Wikipedia – AKA my usual second port of call – only mentions him once in passing.
And my fear of spreading false information – a fear that many people in the world could do with catching – means I’m not going to confirm that all these sources are talking about the same man.
Ke Klínku was built in 1955. Despite the street sign, it’s partially in Podolí (we’re officially getting out of Podolí and officially getting into Braník in about ten days).
If you want a translation of ‘klín’, take your pick from the following non-exhaustive list: wedge / gore / gusset / lap / knees / crotch. Quite a range.
A ‘klínek’, meanwhile, could be translated as the first three of those – but also as ‘doorstop’.
Whichever of these you choose (I’m not willing to commit to one), it seems that the street leads to a place that, once upon a time, was known as Klínek. There are at least two villages called that elsewhere in the country.
In the 1920s, an emergency colony (see https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/09/08/prague-4-day-166-nad-ondrejovem/ or https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/06/05/prague-4-day-109-u-dekanky/) was founded.
It was called Na Klínku, had about ten houses, and existed until the 1960s. There’s a photo on https://www.bahnoprahy.cz/kolonie-na-pravem-brehu/nouzova-kolonie-na-klinku/, showing how it looked in the 1930s.
Kubištova was built in 1991.
Bohumil Kubišta was born Vlčkovice near Hradec Králové in 1884; he was an illegitimate child, and his family was poor.
Developing an interest in fine arts while at secondary school in HK, he started studying at Prague’s School of Applied Arts in 1903, but moved to the Academy of Fine Arts in 1904. He left both due to conflicts with his teachers.
So, in 1904, he went to Pula, now in Croatia, to start military service (the painting below represents the sunset over the Adriatic). He graduated in 1906, and then went to Florence to study at the Reale instituto delle belle arti. He left after a term. There’s a pattern here.
Returning to Prague in 1907, Kubišta displayed fourteen of his paintings at an exhibition, and met the literary critic František Xaver Šalda, who would become a supporter. However, he struggled to make money, and started studying at the Technical University… leaving after a year.
With his uncle’s financial support, Kubišta went to Paris in 1909. He managed to make ends meet by writing articles on fine art, and established useful contacts among French painters.
Returning to Prague in 1910, he managed to make himself unpopular with several older landscape painters by writing articles criticising their work. One painter, Josef Ullmann, physically attacked him, and the case went to court.
Still failing to earn a decent living, Kubišta rejoined the Austrian army in 1913. During World War One, he served in Pula (painting below), where he had done his military service.
On 27 October 1918 – one day before Czechoslovakia became independent – Kubišta returned to Prague and enlisted in the new country’s army. However, exactly one month later, he died of the Spanish flu. He was 34.
An exhibition of his works took place at the Rudolfinum in 1920 (I think – this would’ve meant the exhibition took place when the building was already the Czechoslovak Parliament: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/10/22/prague-1-day-211-namesti-jana-palacha/).
I love all these paintings of his; this one is of a walk through Riegrovy Sady.
Bohuslava Martinů was built in 1966.
Bohuslav Martinů was born in a church in Polička (near Pardubice) in 1890.
From 1906 to 1910, he attended the Prague Conservatory, studying the violin, the organ and composition, but didn’t complete his studies, partly because he was much more interested in exploring Prague (Bohuslav, I hear you).
However, this didn’t stop him from becoming a violinist in the Czech Philharmonic in 1920. He had already composed a successful cantata, Czech Rhapsody (Česká rapsodie), in 1919.
After composing his first string quartet and two ballads, Martinů left Czechoslovakia for Paris in 1923, where jazz, neoclassicism and ragtime would all leave an imprint on his compositions. Stravinsky was a particular influence.
However, Martinů maintained his links with the homeland, especially through forming a close friendship group with other expats in Paris, and his ballet Špalíček (1932) would incorporate Czech folk tunes.
In 1926, Martinů met Charlotte Quennehen, a seamstress from Picardy. They would marry in 1931.
In the 1930s, he settled into a neo-classical style; his most important composition of the decade – arguably of his lifetime – was Julietta, an opera premiered at Prague’s National Theatre (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/09/14/prague-1-day-105-divadelni/) in 1938.
This is the soprano Ota Horáková, who played Julietta on that day.
After the Munich Agreement was signed, Martinů attempted to join the Czech resistance, but was rejected due to his age. However, he did compose Field Mass / Polní mše, a cantata honouring the Czechs fighting in the French army.
He and Charlotte then decided to flee Paris in 1940 when it became clear that the Nazis were about to occupy the city. They would end up settling in the United States in 1941.
Struggling to adapt to Manhattan – and not speaking English – Martinů would find quieter surroundings (all the easier to compose in) when they moved to Jamaica Estates, Queens.
Charlotte never warmed to America; Martinů also considered returning to Czechoslovakia after World War Two, but, after the Communists took power, he was branded a traitor to the nation, and decided to stay put.
Despite gaining US citizenship in 1952, he mainly lived in France, Italy and Switzerland from 1953 onwards.
Martinů died in Switzerland in 1959; Charlotte would die in 1978. A year later, their remains were transferred to Czechoslovakia; they are both buried in his native Polička.
Here’s a picture of him there with his mother in 1927.
Very nice video on Martinů by the National Museum:
Hudečkova was built in 1965.
Antonín Hudeček was born just outside Ředhošť, near Litoměřice, in 1872. After finishing school in Roudnice, he moved to Prague in 1887 to study at the Academy of Fine Arts (AVU).
In 1895 – and after a two-stint of studying in Munich from 1891 to 1893 – he set up a workshop in Prague and formed a group with various painters, including Antonín Slavíček.
In 1898, his work was part of the first exhibition of the Mánes Association (https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2024/01/18/prague-2-day-11-manesova/); two years later, his works were exhibited in Vienna.
In 1902, Hudeček travelled to Italy, and painted multiple landscapes; he would continue with landscapes when he returned to Bohemia. A second trip to Sicily in 1909 resulted in an affair with the opera singer Mariana Vorlová – his friend’s wife – and an illegitimate son.
Hudeček continued to paint landscapes, including in Rügen, as well as in Slovakia (in the Tatras, the Banská Bystrica region) and Transcarpathia, then in Czechoslovakia but now in Ukraine.
Hudeček was appointed a full member of the Czech Academy of Sciences and Arts in 1930; he died at home in Častolovice, near Rychnov, in 1941.
Perlitová was built in 1977.
‘Perlit’ is perlite – an amorphous volcanic glass with a high water content, and which, unusually, expands significantly upon heating.
It’s used a lot in construction and manufacturing, for example in ceiling tiles, insulation, concrete and lightweight plasters.
In the case of this street, a construction cooperative called Perlit-dom took part in the construction of its dwellings.
Nad kolonií was built in 1947.
We’re not out of the emergency colony tales that have been told in recent days: https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/09/08/prague-4-day-166-nad-ondrejovem/.
In order to compensate for the lack of new content: a ‘kolonie’ would also be a ‘rookery’ (if you’re talking about, for example, ravens, penguins or seals).
V Ondřejově was named in 1935.
Emergency colony time again; same one that was discussed, briefly, on https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/09/08/prague-4-day-166-nad-ondrejovem/.
In order to make sure today’s post isn’t completely devoid of new information: Ondřejov is also the name of a former village which is now part of Prague-East.
It’s mainly known for the Ondřejov Observatory, principal observatory of the Astronomical Institute of the Czech Academy of Sciences, and home of the country’s largest telescope: https://www.asu.cas.cz/cz/verejnost-a-media/prohlidky-pro-verejnost.
Nad vrstvami was built in 1926.
‘Nad vrstvami’ literally translates as ‘Above the layers’.
On which: see the almost identically-named https://whatsinapraguestreetname.com/2025/09/06/prague-4-day-164-na-vrstvach/.
V rovinách was built in 1935.
A ‘rovina’ is a ‘plain’, a ‘flat surface’, ‘flat land’, etc.
As far back as 1841, there were field tracks in Krč (where the southernmost tip of the road is located) which were called Rovina or V rovinách.
I was sceptical – there are some hills round here – but Google Maps reliably tells me that the 14-minute walk from one end of V rovinách to the other is mostly flat, albeit with some stairs.
Here’s some footage of someone getting arrested at number 48 in Případ pro zvláštní skupinu, a crime drama which was filmed in 1989 but not broadcast until 2003 (arrest is at 56:20).
The reason for the delay? The scriptwriter and detective fiction novelist, Ivan Gariš (1923-1996), was really called Antonín Prchal, and had been head of the State Security (StB) in the early 1950s, playing a key role in Operation Border Stone and the Slánský trial.
Which meant that, by 1990, this six-parter wasn’t really something Czechoslovak television was all that eager to broadcast.
Nad Ondřejovem was named in 1935.
In the 1920s, Prague experienced unprecedented growth. For example, Podolí, which had had 4,048 inhabitants in 1910, had 8,097 in 1930, i.e. its population was exactly twice as much, plus one extra person, as it had been twenty years earlier.
This kind of population growth meant additional housing was needed, which resulted in emergency buildings being built in what became known as ‘nouzové kolonie’ – emergency colonies.
One such colony was build round here, and its name was Ondřejov, or Ondřejovská kolonie. It’s not easy to find much information about it, other than that it was built in the 1920s, but it must be have been pretty significant – it gave its name to at least two further streets.
The street hasn’t had the best publicity in recent years – most of what you will find online refers to this squat: https://archiv.prahatv.eu/zpravy/praha/praha/18918/ondrejovsky-squat-speje-ke-svemu-zdarnemu-konci. But there’s been very little reporting on whether the work done in 2023 has led to any improvements.
Dvourammená was built in the 1930s, but not named until 1947.
‘Dvou’ at the start of the word would translate as ‘two’ – ‘dvoupokojový’ means ‘two-roomed’, ‘dvousložkový’ means ‘two-component’, ‘dvourychlostní’ means ‘two-speed’, and so on.
Meanwhile, a ‘rameno’ is a shoulder if it’s on you or me, a ‘branch’ if it relates to a river, an ‘arm’ if you’re into physics (I’m terrible at physics, so no questions please), or a ‘leg’ in the unlikely event that you’re an isosceles triangle.
When the street was named, the city authorities justified its name by stating that it was because of ‘the nature of the street, which turns into two branches’.
On Google Maps, somebody has helpfully marked the bit around which these two branches occur with ‘ This is not a car park’.
Na vrstvách was built in 1935.
You can translate ‘vrstva’ in several different ways – it’s a ‘layer’ (e.g. of clothing), or, if we were dealing with paint, it’s a ‘coat’.
Then, if you’re talking about society, it’s a stratum or class.
In the case of this street name, it would be something like ‘heights’, as it’s quite hilly round here.
The ‘ozonová vrstva’ would be the ‘ozone layer’, and the ‘vyšší vrstvy’ would be the upper classes.
A thinner layer than a regular ‘vstrva’ would be known as a ‘vrstvička’.
Kaplická was built in 1962.
Kaplice is a town in South Bohemia, 20 kilometres southeast of Český Krumlov. It’s named after the Chapel of St Mary, although that no longer exists.
The earliest written mention dates from 1257, when Pope Alexander IV gave a church in the town permission to sell indulgences.
In 1382, Kaplice obtained town rights; by the 15th century, the town was mainly German-speaking (and known as Kaplitz).
In 1918 – when Kaplice ceased to be part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and became part of the newly founded Czechoslovakia – the citizens of Kaplice objected and tried to join Upper Austria (Linz is only about 65 kilometres away).
The refusal from the local authorities was so strong that the 1st Czechoslovak Infantry Regiment, based in České Budějovice, had to be sent in.
In 1938, Kaplice would be annexed to Nazi Germany, and the Czech-speaking population was chased out. In 1945, the opposite happened – the Germans were forced out; between 1930 and 1950, the population fell by 21.5%.
However, by the mid-1980s, the population had more than doubled from its 1950 level. Nowadays, it has about 7,500 inhabitants.
What's in a Prague street name 