Perhaps it is for this reason that, when discussing with the renowned Brent Allen my travel plans for the remainder of the time left on my EURail pass, I was taken aback when that sweet Georgian boy gave me his humble advice. He said, and I quote (with a slight southern twang):
"Why don't you go East?"
"East?" I thought. Well, that would definitely be different. For some reason Eastern European countries didn't really make the cut when I was deciding where to go and visit during my time abroad here. Actually, it was more like they didn't occur to me. As much as I had heard about the beauty of Prague, the Golden City, a history museum in and of itself, it seemed that I wouldn't make it over there unless I "had time." There were much more obvious cities to visit: Vienna, Paris, Amsterdam, and, even though I haven't make it there (yet?), London, Barcelona, Venice, and Rome.
So, this Friday, I struck out on that midnight train to Praha, heading East (although, technically, Vienna lies more to the East than Prague, so I had been "East" before--but for sake of this blog's theme, we will ignore these details of longitude and stick with our preconceived notions of "Western" and "Eastern" Europe [as myopic as that may be]).
Before arriving in Prague, I had to make a slight pitstop in a city called Fulda. The only reason why I had heard of Fulda was because there were Bishops' Conferences held here during the Nazi Regime (for more information, come and see my oral presentation on the relationship of the Catholic Church with the Nazis on Thursday at 4:15PM German time [subtitles not included]). And by pitstop I mean that I had to theoretically wait about an hour and a half for my train to come at its scheduled time. I say theoretically because it came early, which is good since the McDonald's in town, the only thing I was brave enough to set out to find, closes at midnight (my train was supposed to leave at 12:45). Always...no, never, rely on globalization.
But, at about eight in the morning on Saturday, I arrived in the Czech Republic's capital city. I immediately found the subway and set out to find the meeting spot for free walking tours that started at 10:30 and 2 everyday (apparently universal tour times [give or take a half an hour ;)]), the morning tour covering the right side of the Vtlava River and the afternoon tour covering the left side. Luckily I had about two hours to stumble across the right meeting spot, and, having found it, promptly rewarded myself with a ham omelette and a few glasses of orange juice. I only wish I knew how to say "thank you" and "delicious" in every language. I left a significant tip instead. Everyone I know speaks that language.
My tourguide's name was Veronika--she had a very strong accent but spoke English very well (and very quickly) while covering a lot of information on the two tours. In addition to telling us about the architectural and social importance of each building, she also covered a lot of Czechian history. I'll try my best to share when writing lengthy captions for the photos below. You know the drill.
Although I thoroughly enjoyed the tours, my feet were essentially frozen solid by the end of each one. In between tours I took advantage of the Christmas market on the city square that sold mulled wine and bratwurst. After the second tour I found the shelter of tourist stores selling marionettes, scarves, absinthe, blown glass, t-shirts saying "Czech me out!", and millions of those doll-things that fit inside one another (I saw a set of 18--the biggest one was probably a foot tall, and the smallest went down to about two centimeters--with the same painted detail as the largest one). After wandering around another Christmas market in Wenceslas Square, it was just about time to exchange my kurony for Euro and head back to Deutschland.
One of the two buldings that was destroyed in WWII--this ghost of an extension that used to be a part of City Hall was used by the Nazis to store all of their archives during the war. The Nazis blew it up to destroy evidence. The other building that was destroyed in Prague was a church destroyed by an American pilot, who thought he was in Dresden. Everyone makes mistakes, right?
Daivd Cerny--whose other works you will see later--sculpted this upside down-hanging horse on which St. Wenceslas sits to criticize communism in the 1980's.
Or "house of the blue fish."
Kiernontinum, I think. I don't remember/know how to spell that one. I need to brush up on my Bee skills.
Prague Castle in the distance
is hello. Easy enough to remember
Another St. Nicholaus church, this time on the left side of the river.

Climbing the stairs to get to the Prague Castle


Apparently Prague's equivalent of the Eiffel Tower, although not as tall, is at the same elevation as the one in Paris.

Cathedral in the Prague Castle
One of the courtyards
The Czech flag--which is shown when the president is in the country. I didn't see him that day. Or get a bloody nose and get treated by his personal doctor. Can't win them all.
Unfortunately the cathedral wasn't open...I would have love love LOVED to go in!

Here is a video, as promised, of the Astronomical Clock...look REALLY closely. The twelve apostles come by those two windows up top, while the skeleton (right lower side) nods his head and rings his bell to indicate that death is nearing. Next to him are other statues shaking their heads "no," indicating that they don't want to die. Freaky.
On the way home, I met two girls studying abroad in Freiburg, which is really close to the French/Swiss border. One, Jude, was from Scotland, and the other, Helen, was from Dublin, Ireland. We exchanged jokes from our favorite comedians, and are now Facebook friends (they found me...I don't know how, but they found me [name that film]). I now have more potential travelling buddies that really, really like Mitch Hedberg. I may or may not be responsible for that.
Peace, love, and beer that's cheaper than the water,
Amanda
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