Cathedral of Saint Bartholomew, Plzeň

Stand still for a moment on the square and look up. The tower is so tall that you have to tip your head right back to find the top. The stone is grey and weathered, streaked darker where rain has run down it for centuries. Around you the cobbles stretch out in every direction, trams ring their bells in the streets beyond, and pigeons lift off the roof ledges in grey bursts. You are standing beside the Cathedral of Saint Bartholomew, the heart of Plzeň.

Start with something most visitors miss. The church does not sit on the edge of the square, as so many town churches do. It stands right in the middle. That is no accident. Plzeň was a planned town, founded in 1295 by King Wenceslas the Second of Bohemia. Its streets were laid out in a regular grid around one great rectangular marketplace. The parish church was placed at the centre, so faith and trade would share the same open ground.

Work on the church began soon after the town was founded, around the turn of the fourteenth century. Building went on in stages for well over a hundred years. That long span matters. Medieval builders often worked for generations on one church, and tastes changed while they worked. What you see is a Gothic church, the style of pointed arches, tall windows and ribbed stone ceilings that spread across Europe in the Middle Ages. But it is a Gothic church shaped by many hands.

Now look again at that tower. It rises just over one hundred metres. That makes it the tallest church tower in the Czech Republic. For a city that most people know for its beer, this is a quiet surprise. On a clear day the spire is visible from far outside the centre. For travellers arriving in past centuries, it would have been the first sign that the city was close.

You may also notice that the west front feels a little lopsided. Many large Gothic churches have twin towers framing the entrance. Here there is only one. According to the usual account, a second tower was planned but never completed. So the single tall tower carries the whole silhouette of the building. Walk a few steps to one side and compare the two corners of the facade, and you can see the imbalance for yourself.

If your legs are willing, the tower can be climbed. A narrow staircase of roughly three hundred steps winds up to a viewing gallery high above the square. The climb is steep and tight, and it is not for everyone. But from the top the grid of the old town opens out below you. You can see clearly how the streets run off the square in straight lines, exactly as the medieval planners intended.

The fifteenth century brought hard years. During the Hussite wars, Bohemia was torn apart by a religious conflict. The Hussites were followers of the reformer Jan Hus, who challenged the Catholic Church. Plzeň remained firmly Catholic and loyal to Rome. Hussite armies besieged the city, but it held out. That loyalty shaped the town's identity for generations, and this church stood at the centre of it.

Step inside, and the light changes at once. The noise of the square drops away. The interior is tall and cool, and the eye is drawn upward along slender stone piers to the vaulted ceiling. The vaults are made of crossing stone ribs, which spread the weight of the roof down into the pillars. After the bright square, give your eyes a moment. The details come out slowly in the softer light.

At the main altar stands the church's greatest treasure, the Plzeň Madonna. It is a statue of the Virgin Mary holding the Christ child, carved in the late fourteenth century. It belongs to a style that art historians call the Beautiful Style. This was a gentle, graceful kind of Gothic sculpture, with soft flowing robes and calm faces. Look at the gentle curve of her body and the deep folds of the cloth. Stone has been made to look almost soft.

Seek out the Sternberg Chapel as well. It is a later Gothic addition, named after a noble family. Its ceiling is a fine example of late Gothic vaulting, where the stone ribs form a complex net pattern overhead. Compare it with the simpler vaults of the main church. You can see how the builders' ambitions grew more intricate over time. It is a small space, but it rewards a slow look upward.

For most of its life this was a parish church, not a cathedral. That changed only recently. In 1993, a new Catholic diocese was created with Plzeň at its centre, and Saint Bartholomew's became its cathedral. So a building that is more than seven hundred years old has held its title for only a few decades. Its role grew, but the stones themselves stayed the same.

Before you leave, walk around the outside of the church. On the iron grille near the building, look for a small angel. Locals have a popular tradition about it. Legend has it that if you touch the angel and make a wish, the wish will come true. You will probably see that one spot has been rubbed smooth and bright by countless hopeful hands. It is a modern ritual, but people take it to heart.

Nearby on the square stands a column topped with a statue of the Virgin Mary. Columns like this rose across Central Europe in the seventeenth century, often as thanks for the end of a plague. Together with the cathedral, it frames the square as a place of both prayer and memory. Around them, the townhouses show many periods, from Renaissance gables to later, more ornate facades.

As you walk away, turn back once more. Watch how the tower stays in view from almost every street that leaves the square. That was part of the plan too. Wherever you go in the old town, the grey spire stays above the rooftops, much as it did for the merchants and townspeople who first walked these streets. Take one last look, and let it guide you on.