My birthday week in Prague was wonderful – a short but sweet vacation, one of the hazards of corporate life. The purpose of the trip was 25% sightseeing and 75% cleaning out the waste paper basket that was my mind. This year I visited two parts of Prague that I did not have time to see on my last visit; Josefov, the Jewish Quarter, and Vysehrad, the magical birthplace of Prague.
It was cold – a steady thirty degrees – and it snowed every day. The sky was mostly grey, but it suited my mood since I really needed some down time. For an entire week I had no phone, TV, or watch (I forgot to wear one when I left for work Friday). I slept late, ate when I was hungry, and took a big fat nap every day.
I arrived in Prague after dark. I found my way to my hostel – Hostel U Melounu (Watermelon Hostel) in Nevo Mesto (New Town) where I spent my first two nights. I really was ridiculous about lodging. I couldn’t make up my mind as to what kind of accommodation I wanted. Initially, I was just going to get the cheapest room I could find, because I figured it would really be nothing more than a place to keep my stuff. So I booked a bunk bed in a room that I would share with a few other girls. It seemed fine enough as I reminisced about all my other trips to Europe, and then I realized that I was seriously sleep deprived and that maybe sharing a room wasn’t such a good idea. Then it hit me like a brick wall that this was going to be my first European trip with a suitcase. I had always traveled with my backpack, tent, and stove - completely self-sufficient - and now here I was (extremely embarrassed to admit) toting wheels. You can imagine the horror of it all – realizing that I was no longer a young bohemian, but someone who was now high maintenance. Not that I ever contemplated brining a backpack. I wanted to be extravagant. I brought a hard covered book, my giant bottles of shampoo & conditioner, Snoopy, my hot rollers (yes, laugh your ass off) which I never used by the way because my electric converter didn’t fit into the round hole surrounding every outlet in the city. I brought Crabtree & Evelyn soap for Monika and my snow pants in case it dropped below thirty degrees. I was dragging it all with me, happily.
By the time I decided that maybe I should get a private room, U Melounu didn’t have any left. So I decided to work it out when I got there. Miracles do happen, and behold, I managed to get a private room due to someone’s cancellation but then had to move to a different hostel for the third & fourth nights (private rooms cost about $35/night). I spent two nights in this wonderful place, which had a very friendly staff and a lovely courtyard that was, for the time being, filled with snow, in a remarkably historic neighborhood south of Prague’s popular old town.
On the third day I moved to Hostel Rosemary in the heart of Stare Mesto (Old Town), just around the corner from the Municipal building, which had a skylight and kitchenette that was nicer than anything I could ever hope to find in NYC.
I spent my first day visiting every music store in town. It wasn’t something I planned to do, but I wanted to see if I could find the little shop hidden in a courtyard where I had bought my violin in ’98 on Dlouha St.. When I couldn’t find it, I stopped into a sheet music store to ask for directions, and there the shop keeper mapped out every music store in town where he thought I might be able to find a viola. And so my day was drawn out. I was attracted to the treasure hunt like a moth to flame and did manage to visit every shop but one, but only because no one was there – not because I couldn’t find it. I did happen to find a viola or two that I liked, but swirled myself into a tizzy wondering whether I should or shouldn’t, since I really didn’t have the money budgeted to do so, and then decided not to.
For the entire duration of my stay in Prague, my map was always in my left hand. The city is not laid out in a linear fashion. It is more circular with streets ending at Vs, that end in more Vs. I checked my location at every block – just to be sure. Twice I forgot my map (keep in mind that I’ve taken every wrong train in New York City. I’m now an expert at the subway system and I’m fine as long as I remember where I am going). The one time I was mapless I had to stop at every major crossroad and say out loud something like; “Turn left at the Phillips Building”. “Turn right at the big clock,” leaving verbal crumbs along my route so that I could pick them up on the return home. The second time, I was not going far, but it was late and my usual shortcut had been gated off for the night. In an attempt to navigate back to my hostel I got completely turned around, but was guided home by the friendly dog who lived on my floor. I knew it was her and she barked until I put my key in the door and then I never heard her bark again for the remainder of my stay.
I walked around at night with the intent of discovering something new. I walked west until I hit the river and then was struck with the beauty of Prague Castle, high up on the hill, in the dark, lit up like a Christmas/Hanukah tree. I find the beauty of Prague, especially at night, to be nearly painful.
There are really no words to describe it. And I think that the only way one can alleviate the pain is with the embrace of a loved one, or perhaps with alcohol if alone. Here's a photo of Monika in front of the castle. It's a photo she sent me from a prior trip and happens to be the only photo I have of the castle at night.
Jan
Because it was still the dead of winter, many of the hundred or so restaurants in Prague were empty. I’d find myself on a winding narrow street, I’d see a large wooden door that opened into a courtyard. I’d peer in and see a cobblestone path lit by candles, ending at a beautiful, romantic restaurant decorated with tea lights and music, but no customers and only the workers lounging around the bar. It was a little depressing. Some places were just too romantic to enter alone and I ended up always going where there were a lot of people…which is how I met my friend Jan, from Hanover.
In my customary way of aimlessly wandering until I find something interesting, I ended up at a smoky pub that was one of the most happening places in town, known for its food. Since I detest eating amid cigarette smoke, the waiter sat me in a little niche downstairs that was as far from the other tables as possible. I ordered authentic Czech; lamb sausage, goulash, and the national brand of beer; Pilsner Urquell.
A little while later this guy came over and sat near me because it was the only seat available and we started small talk. Three pints of beer and two shots of Becherovka later, we were best friends. He’d been going to school in Prague for five months, living with his grandmother. His mom is an astrologer and so we drew each others charts and discussed the symbiosis of Pisces and Scorpio. We talked about our strengths and weaknesses, which led to a discussion of love, marriage, sex, children, religion, politics, giving, and working. At a late hour, when neither of us felt that we should drink any more, he walked me to the subway and waited with me until my train came. Hopefully he got up in time to catch his plane the next morning.
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