DPP (company)
The Prague Public Transit Company (Dopravní podnik hl. m. Prahy, a.s. – DPP) is the main operator of public transportation in the capital, successfully combining delays, service interruptions, and corruption scandals into a perfectly synchronized chaos. It operates the metro, trams, buses, and occasionally even a trolleybus—when it’s not stuck in the depot due to a breakdown.
DPP also manages the city’s railways and two cable cars, which are the only transport facilities under its administration that have yet to spontaneously catch fire. Suburban bus lines are operated with the enthusiasm of a company that never really knows whether its vehicles will make it to the final stop.
The company proudly runs its own transportation high school, where young talents are trained in essential skills: ignoring passenger complaints, turning off depot cameras, and signing contracts with suppliers in the presence of a brown envelope. Employees have access to their own magazine, DP KONTAKT, where they can read about the latest service disruptions and tunnels flushed through questionable contracts.
DPP transports an average of 1.17 billion passengers per year, many of whom have lost their nerves and faith in public transport. Its fleet consists of over 1,100 buses, 850 trams, and 730 metro cars—at least half of which are either in service or on fire.
Historical milestones[edit | edit source]
1) 19th Century – 1918[edit | edit source]
1875 – The Horsecar. A product of the capitalist exploitation machine—vehicles dragged by starving horses, meant for the lucky few who could afford it. Horses that couldn’t keep up were mercilessly slaughtered, and the city drowned in their excrement.
1891 – The first electric tram at the Exhibition in Holešovice. A glimpse of progress, soon to be shattered by crises and war.
1896 – The first regular electric tram. Capitalists rub their hands in glee—industrial growth, new ways to profit. The workers and their needs? Ignored, as always.
1914 – World War I. Prague is paralyzed by military convoys, trams run sporadically, and people are forced to walk to work. Public transport becomes a crowded, stinking hellscape.
2) 1918–1939[edit | edit source]
1925 – The Prague Public Transit Company (DPP) is founded. Finally, some order! But bureaucratic chaos continues to reign.
1936 – First metro proposals. Capitalists, of course, would rather pump their money into factories than public infrastructure.
1938 – The Munich Betrayal. Fear and uncertainty grip the city, and public transport is unable to cope with the growing movement of civilians and soldiers.
1939 – Occupation. Prague’s 136 km of tram lines fall into the hands of Nazi planners.
3) 1939–1945[edit | edit source]
1939 – The Nazis impose their rule. Movement for Czechs is restricted, trams are crammed beyond capacity, and gasoline is reserved for Germans.
1941 – Jews are banned from trams. Public transport becomes a tool of racial oppression.
1943 – Sabotage operations. Czech resistance fighters deliberately damage tram engines and overhead lines. The Gestapo retaliates with executions.
1945 – Prague Uprising. Barricades made of destroyed trams, vehicles torn apart by machine gun fire, explosions in the streets. Several tram drivers are executed.
4) 1948–1989[edit | edit source]
1948 – Communists take over. Finally, capitalist incompetence is crushed, and massive urban transport expansion begins.
1951 – The first modern T1 tram. Cheap, efficient, accessible to all. The system thrives.
1959 – The trolleybus network reaches its peak. 140 vehicles in operation, a symbol of efficiency—until political pressure forces its destruction.
1967 – The total extermination of trolleybuses. The official excuse? "Modernization." The real reason? Oil and bus lobbies conspire to destroy one of the best transit systems.
1974 – Metro Line C opens. A true modernization of urban transport begins.
1978 – Metro Line A opens. Prague joins the ranks of world-class metropolises.
1985 – Metro Line B (Smíchov – Florenc) connects the system. Public transport finally works as it should.
5) 1989–2000[edit | edit source]
1989 – Capitalist coup.
1991 – The first privatization of maintenance. The slow collapse begins.
1995 – The first low-floor bus (Karosa-Renault Citybus). A rare glimpse of progress.
1998 – Mass outsourcing and budget cuts in maintenance. Prague stops investing in infrastructure. The rot sets in.
6) 2000–2020[edit | edit source]
2002 – Opencard disaster. An overpriced, nonsensical electronic ticket project—pure theft in broad daylight.
2010 – DPP drowns in corruption scandals. Transparency? Accountability? Dead and buried.
2015 – “Electric buses” – a PR stunt. A pathetic distraction from catastrophic mismanagement.
2018 – Trolleybuses are tested – after 50 years of absence. A confession of failure disguised as innovation.
7) 2023 and beyond?[edit | edit source]
2023 – Trolleybuses return! After 56 years, Line 58 (Letňany – Palmovka) is revived.
Future expansion plans? A quiet, reluctant admission that socialist transport planning was more efficient than today’s capitalist chaos.
Depots[edit | edit source]
Bus Garages[edit | edit source]
Dejvice Garage († 2004, Prague 6)
Dejvice, once a noble district with embassies, witnessed the slow death of one of the most significant bus depots in the city's history. This was where Ikarus and Karosa buses rested, where the history of public transport was written. But then came privatization, financial tunnels, budget cuts, and all that remains today is a crumbling complex where the homeless play at being bus drivers, and local kids hear eerie metal screeches at night.
Klíčov Garage (since 1973, Prague 9)
In the north of Prague, there's a vast nothing. Fields, highways, and the forgotten Prosek housing estate. Amidst all this stands the Klíčov garage, the last bastion of bus transport. After a night shift, drivers walk straight into the fields because there's simply nowhere else to go. Urban legends claim that some Karosa buses from the 1980s are still lost somewhere in the garage, with mechanics searching for them in vain for the past three decades.
Libeň Garage († early 90s, Prague 8)
Libeň – now a hipster paradise, once an industrial hell filled with factories and concrete. One of the city's main bus depots used to stand here, but after the revolution, someone decided Libeň no longer needed a garage. It was converted into luxury offices, which no one works in—because no one voluntarily goes to Libeň.
Vršovice Garage (since 1955, Prague 10)
Vršovice – a mix of artists, hipsters, and old residents still waiting for their neighborhood to turn into another Karlín. In the meantime, one of the last functioning bus garages still stands here, fighting every day to get the buses out on the streets. The local mechanics are either miracle engineers or black magicians, because keeping 30-year-old Karosas running is no longer a matter of technology but of ritual sacrifice involving the last remaining spare parts.
Kačerov Garage (since 1966, Prague 4)
South Prague, a place where bus drivers and mechanics have long since stopped pretending. Kačerov is a dark pit where buses are not only repaired but also die. Night shifts allegedly involve blood rituals where drivers swear loyalty to the Public Transport Company in exchange for their bus starting in the morning. If it doesn’t? It disappears. Completely. Where did the old Ikaruses go? No one knows.
Pankrác Garage († 1980s, Prague 4)
Pankrác – a city of skyscrapers and corporate slaves. A once-famous bus garage stood here, but in the 80s, they shut it down because it was "in the way." Today, no buses stop here—only lost souls who forgot to get off in time.
Hostivař Garage (since 1994, Prague 15)
When you run out of space anywhere else, you build a garage in Hostivař. This is where buses end up when no one else wants them. This is where night routes are born that should never have existed. If a driver disappears, it's probably because the last broken-down SOR bus swallowed them forever.
Řepy Garage (since 1982, Prague 6)
Řepy is a strange place. On one side, you have nice villas, on the other, neglected housing projects where even buses are afraid to stop. The garage has been here since the 80s, still haunted by the ghosts of old Ikaruses. The drivers who survive here are either top professionals or madmen who fear nothing.
Trolleybus Garages[edit | edit source]
Klíčov Garage (since 2017, Prague 9)
Northern Prague has decided to revive trolleybuses. The problem? No one remembers how to operate them. Every morning at Klíčov, a bizarre ritual takes place—mechanics trying to figure out how to raise the poles onto the wires while drivers desperately search for the manual.
Řepy Garage (since 2024, Prague 6)
An experiment: what if we tried modern trolleybuses? The reality? Most of them either don’t work or end up in the service hall before they even hit the streets.
Tram Depots[edit | edit source]
Hloubětín (since 1951, Prague 9)
Another tram fortress in the wastelands of northern Prague. If a tram gets lost here, it’s never coming back.
Kobylisy (since 1930, Prague 8)
Where trams train for the brutal terrain of the Bohnice housing estate. Not all return. Maybe two gangsters with an assault rifle and a grenade will attack you.
Motol (since 1937, Prague 5)
An old depot that has survived everything. Perhaps because trams here learn to move through Prague like tanks.
Pankrác (since 1929, Prague 4)
The southern part of Prague needs trams, but it doesn’t always want them to return.
Strašnice (since 1908, Prague 10)
The oldest tram depot. Experience? Yes. Spare parts? Not anymore.
Střešovice (museum, Prague 6)
Historical trams, historical problems.
Vokovice (since 1939, Prague 6)
Where trams learn to survive the battlefield that is Evropská street.
Žižkov (since 1912, Prague 3)
The border between a civilized city and anarchy. Trams here learn to navigate between drunks and delivery vans.
Metro Depots[edit | edit source]
Kačerov (border of Michle and Záběhlice, Prague 4)
Metro line C starts and ends here. And sometimes, people disappear inside.
Hostivař (Strašnice, Prague 15)
The final stop for metro trains—and some employees.
Zličín (border of Zličín and Třebonice, Prague 13)
The last hope for western Prague. At least you’re near the airport.
Infrastructure[edit | edit source]
Trams[edit | edit source]
No | Route | Distance | Travel Time | Essential Gear | What to Expect |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
1 | Sídliště Petřiny – Výstaviště | 58 km | 3 hours – 2 days | FFP3 respirator, bare hands for seat fights, poison capsule for emergencies | Someone will scream at you for stepping on their dog, while a homeless guy pisses directly onto the seat next to you. |
2 | Sídliště Petřiny – Nádraží Braník | 62 km | 3.5 hours – 5 days | Raincoat against unknown fluids, taser for violent pensioners | If you don’t mind a 120-person shared sauna, you might actually enjoy it. |
3 | Levského – Kobylisy | 70 km | 4 hours – 7 days | Energy bars, pepper spray, iron patience | Doesn't run outside peak hours. Which means when you actually need it, you might as well throw yourself under a metro. |
4 | Slivenec – Kubánské náměstí | 55 km | 3 hours – 2 weeks | Drone for scouting free seats, gas mask | Operates only on weekdays. If you need to escape this hellhole on a Saturday, tough luck. |
5 | Slivenec – Vozovna Žižkov | 80 km | 5 hours – 14 days | A month’s worth of food, military sleeping bag, signal flares | Enter this tram, and you might never leave. |
6 | Nádraží Holešovice – Kubánské náměstí | 65 km | 4 hours – 6 days | Night vision for underpass scouting, firearm | Enjoy the sights of dingy bars, warm embraces of pickpockets, and junkies passed out on benches. |
7 | Radlická – Lehovec | 75 km | 4.5 hours – 9 days | Hammer for breaking windows in case of crash, decontamination spray | Perfect for those who love the aroma of old panel buildings and the feeling of sitting in someone else's feces. |
8 | Nádraží Podbaba – Starý Hloubětín | 90 km | 5 hours – 14 days | Ballistic vest, antidote for unidentified fumes | The Middle Ages are back. Money won’t help you here—only pure, raw survival instincts. |
9 | Sídliště Řepy – Spojovací | 120 km | 6 hours – 3 months | Field kitchen, hunting knife, steel nerves | Tram occasionally teleports into another dimension where passengers are insane and the driver has no brakes. |
10 | Sídliště Řepy – Sídliště Ďáblice | 140 km | 7 hours – 5 years | Flamethrower, boots for toxic waste, air filter | Travels through places even Google Maps refuses to acknowledge. |
11 | Spořilov – Spojovací | 110 km | 6 hours – 7 days | Buckshot rounds for aggressive passengers, emergency parachute | You might step out into the future. Or into another city. Don’t question it—just go with the flow. |
12 | Sídliště Barrandov – Lehovec | 150 km | 7.5 hours – 10 years | Tent, week’s supply of food, bulletproof helmet | Never runs when you need it. When it does, it rarely ends up where it's supposed to. |
22 | Bílá Hora – Nádraží Hostivař | 160 km | 8 hours – 12 years | Samurai sword for self-defense, flamethrower for tram vermin | The most overcrowded tram in Prague. If you think your mental state is strong enough, come and destroy yourself. |
26 | Dědina – Nádraží Hostivař | 170 km | 8.5 hours – 15 years | Medical kit, helicopter for emergency evacuation | If you board this tram, you’ll likely never see your family again. |
Buses[edit | edit source]
No. | Route | Distance (km) | Travel Time | Avg. Speed (km/h) | Stops | Survival Chance (%) | Essential Gear | Special Threat |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
100 | Zličín – Václav Havel Airport | 17 km | 45 min – 3 hours | 15 km/h | 12 | 85 % | Gas mask, GPS in case of disappearance | A man claims to be a pilot and plans to take the bus as his plane. |
119 | Nádraží Veleslavín – Airport | 10 km | 30 min – 2 days | 10 km/h | 10 | 90 % | Helmet, flares, emergency parachute | Someone left a suitcase. Nobody knows what's inside. |
125 | Skalka – Smíchovské nádraží | 23 km | 1 hour – 5 days | 7 km/h | 20 | 75 % | Field kitchen, sleeping bag | The driver is rally racing, and there's a drunk passenger with 5.0‰ BAC. |
136 | Vozovna Kobylisy – Sídliště Čakovice | 33 km | 1.5 hours – 10 years | 5 km/h | 28 | 60 % | Oxygen supply, flashlight for blackouts | You wait 20 minutes—then 3 buses arrive at once, all of them full. |
140 | Palmovka – Miškovice | 28 km | 2 hours – eternity | 3 km/h | 25 | 40 % | Swimsuit, inflatable raft | You sink into traffic and age into dust. |
167 | Na Knížecí – Nemocnice Motol | 15 km | 40 min – 6 years | 4 km/h | 15 | 95 % | Sedative supply, riot shield against insane stroller moms | The hospital might admit you immediately. |
177 | Chodov – Poliklinika Mazurská | 37 km | 2 hours – 30 years | 4 km/h | 32 | 30 % | Flamethrower, diving suit | Lights go out in the tunnel, the driver panics and flees. |
191 | Airport – Na Knížecí | 35 km | 1.5 hours – 15 years | 2.5 km/h | 30 | 20 % | Food rations, camping gear | The bus is highly flammable. |
200 | Nádraží Holešovice – Sídliště Bohnice | 29 km | 2 hours – 8 days | 3 km/h | 27 | 50 % | Armor, taser, close-combat skills | A trip to Bohnice may not be accidental. |
235 | Smíchovské nádraží – Lipence | 40 km | 2.5 hours – 50 years | 1.8 km/h | 35 | 10 % | Satellite phone, emergency rocket flare | The driver gets lost, and you must colonize a new land. |
501 | The Night Bus That Never Arrives | ??? km | ??? hours – eternity | ??? km/h | ??? | 0 % | N/A | Some say they once saw it pass. But it was just a shadow. |
511 | The Loop of Hell Around Prague | 180 km | 12 hours – 60 years | You’ll never know | ??? | 0 % | N/A | The driver disappears, and so do you. |
Metro[edit | edit source]
Line A[edit | edit source]
Line B[edit | edit source]
Line C[edit | edit source]
Fleet[edit | edit source]
Buses[edit | edit source]
Trams:[edit | edit source]
Metro:[edit | edit source]
Culture of travelling[edit | edit source]
Every time you step into a tram, metro, or bus, it’s like playing Russian roulette—you never know what’s going to hit you first. Will it be the stench of rotting flesh from the homeless guy in the corner? The intoxicating cocktail of sweat and alcohol from a group of drunks? Or the festering remains of someone’s last meal decaying in the corner of the car? Some metro trains are so damp and musty that they could double as horror movie sets about haunted, abandoned death wagons.
Buses? In winter, they’re heated so much that people start sweating in places they didn’t even know they had. In summer, they turn into mobile crematoriums where the only way out is heatstroke.
Violence, Psychos, and Deranged NPCs[edit | edit source]
Public transport at night? That’s a real-life survival horror. Running into an aggressive bum who suddenly decides you owe him a cigarette? Happens daily. Drunken maniacs treating the tram like a wrestling ring, throwing punches at random passengers just for fun? Standard procedure. And let’s not forget the pinnacle of Prague’s "culture"—a gang of teenagers who think the entire train needs to hear their shitty music, or worse, pick the weakest passenger in the car as their personal punching bag.
Then there are the perverts. Everyone in Czechia heard of Metro Julča[1]—the woman who had the right to sit, shout on other passengers, and be extremely aggressive.
Then you've got the creepy old men pressing up against women in packed carriages, the wide-eyed lunatics staring at your lap, and the straight-up lunatics who think public transport is their personal red-light district. Sometimes, the entire vehicle turns into an impromptu freakshow, complete with NPCs offering you substances you’d rather not touch—because what’s a metro ride without some cracked-out junkie asking if you’ve got a line to spare?
Also, do not forget the occasional skinhead choir breaking out in Nazi salutes mid-ride. Because, apparently, in the jungle of public transport, anything goes.
Delays, Cancellations, and a One-Way Ticket to Nowhere[edit | edit source]
Got somewhere to be? Haha, that’s cute. DPP (Prague Public Transport) will always make sure you don’t get there on time. Trams will get you halfway before suddenly announcing, “End of the line, now get lost.” Metro? “Unexpected incident on the tracks”—which, translated, means someone jumped in front of the train, or the ancient Soviet-era piece of junk simply gave up on life.
Buses? At this point, they don’t even follow schedules—they operate based on planetary alignment. If you’re unlucky, you’ll wait so long for your ride that your ID will expire in the meantime. And when the bus finally shows up, it’s so packed that getting on is like being sucked into a black hole—once you're in, there's no escape.
Fare Inspectors – The Mafia of Prague Public Transport[edit | edit source]
Just when you think it can’t get any worse, the fare inspectors show up. These guys blend in like regular passengers until the doors shut—then, in a split second, they transform into predatory beasts, scanning the crowd for their next victim. If you have a ticket, they might let you live. If not, congratulations—you’re about to experience psychological warfare.
Best case scenario? You get slapped with a ridiculous fine and an arrogant smirk. [2]Worst case? They make you feel like you just robbed a bank. And if you’re stupid enough to run, be prepared for an all-out chase scene, complete with death stares and a determination that makes you question whether they’re actually secret agents in training.