Czech Republic: Rolling Toward Rock

It is perhaps a jet-set rock star reality that vast, compelling places - capitals and cultures far from home - are reduced to stages, crowds, faces. In and out, with time perhaps for a meal, or party, or too-short sleep.

It is definitely the reality for a non-rock star trying to keep up with the Irish band U2 that compelling places along the way - say, the Czech capital of Prague - become obstacles to be skirted during rush hour. They become obstacles because, in the case of me and a friend, at least, we were trying to hurry into Vienna, Austria for Saturday night's U2 concert not by jet, but rental car; and among the myriad changes in central Europe in recent years, some that have received little attention, even from Internet map providers, are torn-up highways, particularly a beautiful four-lane stretch just south of Dresden, Germany which, suddenly, ends in orange construction barriers.

Back roads were stacked with traffic, then meandered, too long, past picturesque villages and over the border into the Czech Republic, on past Prague, where another highway was bordered with IBM billboards and ultimately a sign for the two-lane highway that cuts south toward Vienna. Just past the sign, in the town of Jihlava, in a heavy downpour, a road-weary melt-down was avoided late on Friday night: A modest hotel had rooms and a restaurant served "Hedgehog," steak wrapped around ham and asparagus, and cold, tall glasses of Pilsner. The next day, Saturday, after more detours and country roads, we arrived in Vienna only hours before U2 was set to open their first concert of their ongoing Vertigo tour in a German-speaking land.

We had time for a quick street car ride across town, past the Hofburg Palace, from which Hitler addressed the masses before World War II, then the City Hall, in front of which films of opera are shown outdoors on summer nights. After a fancy martini in the century-old solidness of the American Bar, designed by the Austrian architect Adolf Loos, it was time to get out to the Prater Park and the Ernst Happel stadium.

Not long after the sun set at the edge of a blue sky, a member of U2's road crew walked to the front of the arcing stage and asked the crowd, in English, "What did you guys do today?"

It was a joke, playing on that rock star theme, because for their part, U2 had only hours before stood on another stage, playing an afternoon performance at Live 8 in London, then jetted into the Austrian capital for their long-scheduled show.

After ripping through a performance of "Vertigo," Bono greeted the crowd: "Through the miracle of flight, through the miracle of television, we can be at two places at one time."

As Americans watched televised footage of the Live 8 concerts, U2 gave the Austrians what they paid for: "I Will Follow," "Beautiful Day," "With or Without You," "Sunday Bloody Sunday." The concert started fast and kept up a breakneck, if well-scripted pace. It was as if the band members, realizing their tanks may be running low, decided to put on a show they knew they could nail - greatest hits with new songs tested on their sweep across the United States this spring.

At one point, Bono pulled a fan from the crowd and, after dancing, turned over the microphone. She rallied to sing the chorus he'd begun: "All I want is you."

But an hour after the last note of the last song was struck, and the house lights flooded a near-empty stadium, a rumor passed among the stadium catering crew: U2 had already boarded their plane, on the move back to London for a Live 8 late-night party.

Whether the rumor was true or not, the band would turn up three days later, in another stadium, this in the industrial belt of southern Poland ...