Prague day 11

Ads wants to go to the Kafka museum today.  But a horrifying admission on my part, which no doubt tests the ‘for worse’ of the wedding vows....  I confess that I am actually quite allergic to museums and galleries.  He is quite stunned.  Yes, call me an uncultured oaf, but I can hide the truth no more.  Some I do find interesting and stimulating, but I would far rather soak up the city vibe whilst walking around, or sitting at a café...  So we agree to slpit up.  I am to do the requisite souvenir shopping, and he will go and soak up some misery, death and maiming with Kafka, who was a morbidly depressed Jewish writer. 

We meet up again and go to Petrin Park, which was once the city quarry, but is now covered in lush foliage and rose gardens and such.  It’s evelvated above the city, and one can get to the top by foot or funicular.  We funicular up, and stroll around, languishing in green.  We foot down, stopping for lunch halfway down the hill at a café thing that does beer and sandwiches.  We percolate there for a while, gazing over the city of a hundred spires, before walking down.

Supper is at School, an awesome place near the river.  A very urban chic, Cape Towney sort of vibe. They have fused this glorious old building with super-funky décor, done very tastefully.  Just the perfect sort of place the have a birthday party- the sort my husband always manages to root out for his birthdays in Feb, much to my annoyance, since I then have to find somewhere else [as cool/ cooler!!!] in June!!  My instant love of the place does not only have to do with the fact that there is a mother hen and her chicks drawn on one of the walls near the floor; nor the fact that the word for ‘toilet’ is written on the wall leading there is about 20 different languages... The food matches the décor- a tasteful [ha] modern twist on old classics, but no pretentious reductions/ jús’s/ foams/ jellies/ fusions etc.  You can also buy wine by weight- order a bottle, drink what you want, they weigh the remainder, and charge you only for what you have consumed!  Genius!  After all, who wants to leave a third of an unfinished bottle of wine orphaned in a restaurant?  A delectable evening, followed by a stroll by the river and home over the Charles Bridge. 

Prague day 10

RIGHT! [Think: heel clicking, jacket button popping saluting admiral]. The table mountain of Prague today (i.e. the main attraction; the thing that absolutely MUST be visited): Prague Castle.  It’s an all day, epic expedition.  We start by taking a stroll through the section of town surrounding the castle.  This includes the nunnery/ chapel combo called the Loreta.  A Baroque, bordering on Rococo catastrophe.  But one can appreciate the loveliness and craftsmanship and inspiration behind it. 

Then a lunch at this amazing place which is unassuming from the outside, but is on a hill and has spectacular, panoramic views of Prague.  Here, one can even have... gluten free beer!

The Castle complex is huge- an exercise in medieval and later gated communities.  Many churches/ cathedrals/ other buildings from all the ages since medieval times crammed in around castle itself.  Except to me, it’s a palace, and not a castle- the palace has no turrets or princesses or Rapunzels or Disney motifs.  It’s just a slightly more baroque version of Buckingham Palace.

What does not disappoint is the giant St. Vitus’s Cathedral, which dominates the Prague skyline, and is simply spectacular.  Too much to take in.  The best stained glass ever, since a lot of it is purple.  At one point, to get an interesting photo angle for something, I crouch down, and start to put buttocks to marble to get the shot.  No sooner had one butt check hit the ground, than an official from Men in Black, with a headphone apparatus, is all over me, telling me I am not allowed to sit here.  It’s like there was a butt cheek sensor. It was indeed a silly idea to start with, but I meant no disrespect at all.  In my head, I am thinking: This is it, I am to be dragged away by the secret police, never to see my family, my Maz, Boy or Ellie again...  On the other hand, he could be satisfied by me crouching on my haunches to do the pic instead of sitting, and move on to find another hapless victim.  We pootle around in awe, getting repetitive strain injuries from the constant jaw- dropping. 

Then we do a tour of the castle- in the medieval section which is not visible from the front of the complex.  This is a lot more castle-y!  YAY.  Then to the medieval jail... torture chamber...eurrrrghhh...  Then to the Golden Lane, where the artisans and smithies were. Fabulous tiny bookshop here, and fabulous lil’ house that belonged to a clearly mad, film and film paraphernalia hoarding man.  Discovery Channel would have had an episode meal here! 

We make an impromptu decision to attend an evening classical music concert to be held in one of the many places of worship- St. George’s- in the castle complex.  To kill time until then, we have coffee at Starbuckson the castle hillside- not because we are predictable and unadventurous tourists, but because of the views to be had of Prague. The lil’ concert is lovely, utterly charming and not too long either. 

We trudge home, all castled out, and have the ever-present BDM combo at a place on our closest town square, called Malostranska.  Engage in some blogging and people-watching.  Marvel at, but also envy, dumb tourists attempting to negotiate cobblestones in 3-inch high Jimmy Choos. 

Prague Day 9

Oh god oh god, Blog Panic.  Haven’t typed in days!!  And my public [read: 3 readers] needs [read: may or may not see this] me!  What did we do the next day??  Oh yes, I took Ads on a random tram ride through the city, so he could get a taste of it.  We went with Antonia and Jörg on a tour to a place called Kutna Hora.  Yes, some precarious possible spoonerisms in there.  So the tram ride.  We end up on the outskirts of the city, seemingly miles away [read: about 1 km] from everything, and I am convinced we will be too late to pay for the trip, and we will be kicked off and then our friendship with Jörg and Antonia will be ruined forever... Naturally, none of the above hyperbolic events happened and we left for the little town in the countryside that requires a bus ride.  It was once [1300s] the seat of the King’s residence and the mint, when it was a rich silver mining centre.  Naturally, the silver ran out and everything then moved to Prague.  There is a[nother] very large cathedral there, St Barbora’s; a gothic masterpiece that took 100s of years to complete.  I forget what St. Barbora did.  If you were Rachel Berry from Glee, she inspired your entire life and career, and is worthy of a huge place of worship.  As with all cathedrals, it is just lovely.  Too big/ much to take in. 

Down the road is the Chapel of All Saints, which contains an ossuary.  It is quite literally, many, many saints.  There are 40 000 bones in there, arranged into charming interior design motifs.  A highly recommended way to deal with departed relatives if funereal costs are just too high.  There are naturally gruesome souvenirs available- because they are badly made in China, not because they are skulls.

The surrounding town is a UNESCO site; and quite twee.  We have fair to middling pizza for lunch and then head home.  The bus drop off is at Wenceslas Square, and I know the Museum of Communism is there, hilariously, above a casino and a McDonalds.  We walk and then grumpily stalk around looking for it, but it’s just not there.  But I saw it with my own two eyes when Andrew the amazing beard- dying verbose tour guide took us past there the other day!! We check the 2, yes, 2 McDonalds/ casino combos on the square, several times, as if the capitalist fairies who beamed the museum up for maintenance will have put it back since we last checked.  No luck.  We give up in favour of a charming little pub thing near home under the Charles Bridge, where the fare is basically sausages and cold meat and... beer... .  The tables are mounted into old sewing machine stands- a completely random and unexpected find!  Some local men momentarily think I am photographing their crotches when I climb under the tables, until I explain the sewing machines to them- a fact which they had never before noticed, quite understandably...

Prague day 8

Spend the morning hitting the snooze button and packing.  Leave my luggage at reception at 11am, pending my taxi at 12 noon.  I take one last stroll around the local area, stopping to buy an entirely unnecessary stracciatella ice cream.  Arrive back at hotel to wait for taxi.  The driver is unfriendly, as I have come to expect.  When we get to the new hotel, it turns out that one can’t park directly outside it.  The driver wants to discharge me into the street and leave me to deal with my million bags and the cobblestones.  I indicate that I shall most certainly not be paying him until he assists me.  He veritably throws my suitcase into the reception area, where I see my beloved husband!!  We have arrived at the same time- he from the airport, and I from the sinkhole that was my ex-hotel.  Happy embrace, then back to car to throw money at the driver.  Unbelievably, the reception lady at our new hotel, the Pod Vêzi, is giving Ads a blow-by-blow account of: where to get money, which restaurants are good, the transport system, Prague pitfalls, tour options and reputable operators etc etc. and all this with a glamorous blonde smile! I am in another hospitality universe.

The hotel is at the foot of the Chares Bridge, below (pod) one of the towers (vezi) on either side.  It’s just charming, in a medieval building, which is also pink!  We are in the Annex, or ‘Dependence’.  Parquet floors, cottage windows, lots of space and loveliness.  And the toilet has a ribbon on it telling us it has been dEsinfected! 

We settle in and then take a walk over the Charles Bridge (Kurlov Most), so I can show him the old town (snow angel) square across the Vltava river.  Lunch is traditional Czech food; basically a carb trainwreck.  Beer, dumplings, meat (BDM). Beer.

Supper is  with Antonia and Jörg at our hotel.  More BDM. And good conversation.  Settle into a luxury sleep.