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.
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