After taking quite some time to scrape ourselves out of bed this morning (or rather, after it took my other half quite some time to scrape herself out of bed this morning), we walked across the centre of Prague – through Wencleslas Square – to the National Museum.
It’s a wonderful, wonderful building – similar in style to the big museums we know so well in London. Unfortunately the interior is a veritable rabbit warren with quite the most unintelligible maps, guides and directions we have seen anywhere on our travels.
We read about the history of Prague and Czechia, and also gazed in wonder at the local fossils, vertibrates, invertibrates, meteorites, and so on housed in the many, many galleries that circle the building.
After filling our heads to bursting with trilobytes, pageantry, and gemstones, we wandered back out into a whistling wind in Wenceleslass Square, and the beginnings of a political rally. With seas of Czech flags being waved and classical music ringing out, we made good our escape back towards the old town.
We found a table in the corner of a hotel courtyard in the old town and holed up for the next hour with a drink and something to eat – listening to the conversations of those around us while being served by quite the most abrupt, efficient, and humorless waiting staff we’ve ever encountered. My word were they ever busy though – turning tables over at a frightening rate.
The courtyard restaurant sat opposite the astronomical clock in the old town square – giving us a wonderful view of the three hundred year old clockwork procession that happens every hour, on the hour, thirty feet above the town square. We wondered how disappointed the throngs of sight-seers might have been, given the thoroughly underwhelming clockworks on display.
After departing the restaurant we set off across the square once more, and I finally gave into the temptation of “Trdelnik” – or “Chimney Cake” – sold from street food stalls throughout the city. To be honest it was exactly what I had imagined it might be – leftover baked dough, coated in sugar and slathered in a filling of your choice to make it taste of anything. I went with chocolate spread.
We’re now hiding out in the hotel bar back where we’re staying – sipping on hot drinks and trying not to feel too guilty about slowing down. The entire weekend has been one long sprint so far. We’re “taking stock”.