But now it was time to try something new: a bar called JBM Brew Lab. I turned down a narrow residential street featuring some great examples of Brno’s celebrated functionalist architecture, and found the pub in the middle of the block.

Taking its name from the owners’ initials, JBM was narrow, warm, boisterous and blissfully smoke-free, unlike many of the country’s traditional pubs. The beer list, too, was up to date, as well as international, featuring 10 taps of unusual brews, including Kapitan Drake, a sour but incredibly refreshing “mojito Gose” from the cult Polish producer Browar Setka that tasted of limes and fresh mint. After finishing the Gose and a better-than-decent pastrami sandwich, I tried an aromatic wet-hop IPA from a favorite Czech microbrewery, Clock.

I figured that was enough for one evening. But then I encountered a bustling scene behind a magnificent Gothic church on the way back to my hotel. It looked like a late-night religious service had just ended, but instead of the faithful, the crowd turned out to be spillover from a nearby pub with tall windows. Both inside and out, just about everyone was holding a pullitr, or half-liter beer glass, and the atmosphere was remarkably festive.

I stuck my head inside and recognized it from my list of places to try — just from the décor. One of the nominees for the best beer bar was called Na Stojaka, a name that roughly means “standing up,” a Czech term for a quick cold one. Inside, almost everyone was standing, with the chest-high tables packed to overflowing, forcing some customers to move to the square like congregants.