Prague Zoo

Listen for a moment. Somewhere above you, a gibbon is calling, a rising whoop that echoes off the rocks. Underfoot, the path climbs steadily, and the air smells of damp earth, cut grass, and warm straw. Prague Zoo does not sit on flat ground. It spreads across a rugged hillside in the north of the city, where sandstone cliffs break through the trees and the river runs just below.

You are in Troja, a quiet district on the right bank of the Vltava. It feels far from the Old Town, yet the city centre is only a short ride away. Across the road stands Troja Château, a red and white Baroque palace built for a noble family in the late seventeenth century. Next door, vineyards climb the slope. This mix of palace, vines, river and rock gives the zoo a setting few city zoos can match.

The zoo opened in 1931. The idea had circulated in Prague for decades before that, but money and politics kept delaying it. The first director was Jiří Janda, a zoologist and university professor who had pushed hard for the project. In those early years the grounds were modest. Over the following ninety years, the zoo grew across the hillside, and today it covers roughly sixty hectares.

Here is the first surprise. Prague Zoo plays a central role in the story of the Przewalski's horse. This is a small, stocky wild horse from the steppes of Central Asia. It has a dun coat, a dark upright mane, and no forelock. By the mid twentieth century, it had disappeared from the wild completely. Every surviving horse lived in captivity, and Prague kept the international studbook, the official family tree of the entire species, for decades.

The story does not end with a record book. In 2011, the zoo began flying Przewalski's horses back to Mongolia, to the regions where their ancestors once ran free. The project became known as the Return of the Wild Horses. Czech army planes carried the animals across the continent. So when you see these horses grazing on the slope here, you are looking at relatives of animals that now live wild again, thousands of kilometres to the east.

The second surprise is darker. In August 2002, catastrophic floods struck Prague. The Vltava rose far above normal levels and poured into the lower part of the zoo. Keepers worked through the night to move animals uphill, often by hand. Many were saved, but some could not be. Several large animals died, including a hippo and an elephant. Large parts of the lower zoo had to be rebuilt from almost nothing.

One animal from that flood became a national story. Gaston, a sea lion, was swept out of his enclosure and into the river. He swam downstream, out of Prague, along the Vltava and then the Elbe, all the way into Germany. People followed his journey on the news with real affection. He was finally caught far from home, but sadly he died soon after. Many Czechs still remember his name.

The rebuilding changed the zoo. New pavilions rose with flood protection in mind, and many enclosures moved toward more natural designs. The Indonesian Jungle pavilion opened in 2004. Inside, the air is hot and heavy with moisture, and you walk among dense plants, running water, and animals from the islands of Southeast Asia. Later, the Valley of Elephants opened, giving the herd a much larger space with pools and open ground.

The gorillas are another highlight. Prague Zoo has kept western lowland gorillas for many years, and their family has become well known across the country. In 2004, a female called Moja was born here, the first gorilla born in the Czech Republic. Her birth was celebrated in the press. Later, Moja travelled to Africa as part of a conservation programme. Watch the troop for a while. Their quiet, deliberate movements reward patience.

Now look around at the layout itself. The zoo has a lower section near the river and an upper section on the plateau. Steep paths and steps connect them, and there is also a chairlift that carries visitors up the slope. From the top, the view opens over the Vltava valley, the rooftops of the northern districts, and on clear days the distant towers of the city. The rocks here are part of the exhibits too, with goats and other climbers using the natural cliffs.

Travel rankings have often placed Prague Zoo among the best zoos in the world. That reputation rests on more than famous animals. Visitors notice the space, the trees, and the way paths wind through real woodland rather than concrete. Many enclosures use moats, water, and glass instead of bars. The zoo also supports conservation and research projects abroad, from Central Asia to Africa and Southeast Asia, which links what you see here to wild places far away.

If you have time after your visit, the neighbourhood is worth exploring. The Prague Botanical Garden sits close by, with a large tropical greenhouse and a small vineyard on its slopes. The gardens of Troja Château are open to walkers too. In the warmer months, river boats run between the city centre and Troja, and arriving by water is a pleasant way to see the Vltava's quieter northern bends.

Before you move on, stand still for a minute. Notice the mix of sounds around you — birds in the treetops, children laughing on the path, the soft crunch of gravel, perhaps a distant roar or a trumpet from the elephants. Look at the sandstone above you and the green river valley below. This hillside has survived floods and rebuilt itself more than once. As you walk away, listen for that gibbon call again... it often follows visitors all the way to the gate.