Yesterday morning we were up and out early for a walk to Prague Castle. Given we are staying in the old town, this meant picking out way through the city streets, crossing a river, and climbing a sizeable hill. The guide book estimated 45 minutes on foot. They must have been basing that on either a one-legged octagenarian, or my eldest daughter (who walks slower than the Witch from the Mr Gumm books).
To cross the river, we chose the “Charles Bridge” – decorated with some of the most impressive statues at each pier I think I’ve ever seen. They all seemed to depict either biblical scenes, or important patrons from the distant past that were thrown in the river for doing something wrong.
Throwing people into or out of things seems to be a theme around here. I’ll get back to that.
The Castle was wonderful. While circling it’s flanks on the climb towards it, the city below spread out before us – with minnarets and spires as far as the eye could see. Much of the “old town” in Prague has existed in much the same form for the last thousand years.
After purchasing audio guides, and tickets to visit anything and everything, we set off around the castle complex – gazing in wonder at the Church of St Vitus, the basilica, and the many other historic buildings surrounding their towering spires.
While wandering the halls of the old Royal palace – once walked by Good King Wenceleslas, we learned about an uprising that caused one of the councillors to be thrown from a window after a heated debate.
Apparently he survived the 13 meter fall – which the Catholic Church proclaimed as a miracle – wrapped in the arms of the Mother Mary as he fell. Another account describes him falling into a dung heap. Which might you believe?
After wandering the castle grounds for some hours – and discovering a street of houses inside the old castle wall where Franz Kafka once lived with his sister, we found our way into the catacombs, and perhaps the best part of the entire castle – with a walking history lesson of the construction and development of the site over the last fifteen hundred years. We were the only people in the entire exhibition throughout. Go figure.
Walking back across the city, we stopped at a bar in the street for some time. I had another enormous beer (I figured better to get one enormous beer, than several smaller beers). I still don’t really like lager, but when you’re in the city where Pilsner was invented, there’s not much other choice.
In the early evening we wandered over to the Church of St Nicholas, just across from the hotel we are staying at in the old town for a “classical music concert”. We had no idea what we might walk into, but it turned out to be rather wonderful. An organ player, trumpter, and singer began with renditions of entirely predictable church music – Bach, Handel, and so on – but then slowly transitioned throughout the hour into more modern music. I half-jokingly whispered to my other half that they would start playing ragtime next, and sure enough they started playing Scott Joplin.
After the show we bought hot drinks from a stall in the old square, and watched the world go by. The city is preparing for Easter, so lots of people were dressed in traditional costume following performances on a stage earlier in the day. I spotted one girl in countless layered skirts spinning on the spot, recreating her earlier performance for a circle of friends.
The day ended with a late meal at a vegetarian restaurant booked the previous day. I will admit to a tiny amount of smugness when an impossibly pretty lady and her Instagram perfect boyfriend were turned away ahead of us. The restaurant was wonderful, the food perfect, and we walked home feeling somewhat uncomfortable, having eaten enough to slow down even the biggest rhinocerous.
Today we were forecast rain, but the sky seems to be filled with fluffy clouds and sunshine so far. If it clears we will walk back over the river to visit Petrin Hill. An altogether slower day. A needed slower day. A day filled with books, writing, and quietly taking in the world around us.
No doubt I’ll find a quiet corner later to write some more.
p.s. I might have made the coffee machine go wrong at breakfast. It probably thought “he wants ANOTHER coffee?!” and gave up in theatrical fashion – with spurts of steam and grinding noises…