Prague

Prague has been, perhaps, the most hyped cities I have visited. Ever since my first year of college, I have had people shouting at me, "Go to Prague!!" Even in Berlin and Munich, fellow hostelers were singing the glories of the mystical city. And, with three years of build-up, I was waiting to be disappointed. And, to a certain extent, I was.

Prague is beautiful and picturesque, no doubt about it. And it would be the perfect town to visit when there aren't that many people around. However, that may not happen ever again. Prague has been found, and the tourist trade has taken hold. So, after a day of wandering in the Old City, I was done rubbing up against other sweaty tourists waiting in line to join more sweaty tourists in our quest to "see Prague." Prague Castle was cool (and seeing the room where the Defenestration of Prague occurred completed my 9th grade History Day project for me), the views were incredible, the Charles Bridge at sunset is a sight to behold. But, after a day, I was done with the biggies. And, with the hype, I was determined to find out why everybody loves Prague.

My second day in the city, I decided to do two things. Tactics that have worked in other tourist towns (most notably Florence). I hopped a tram and rode it as far as it went, determined to walk the entire length back, taking as many back roads as possible. In this case, I would up walking back through a cemetery, with tombs going back as far as the early 1800s. I noticed the differences in tombstone styles, especially those produced during the Communist era. The crosses and religious artifacts began to disappear or become much smaller under the Communists, and the graves took on a more manufactured, boxy form. Naturally, after the fall of the USSR, the religious symbols came back in full force. This little observation was made even more interesting because I wound up watching a funeral in action. A few yards away from the bench where I chose to sit for a few minutes was the site of an open grave. Intrigued, but hoping to remain discrete and appropriate, I watched from a distance, fascinated to see the mix of grief and jubilation that followed this person's burial. Perhaps it was an invasion, or perhaps it was truly "through the back door." Either way, it was fascinating.

After lunch at a little, out-of-the-way family restaurant (where I dined on the "national meal" of beer, pork, sauerkraut and knedliky, or dumpling, for the ridiculously low price of Kc 99, or about $5), I returned to the "main tourist drag" and employed tactic number 2: sit down and stay seated. It was a beautiful, sunny day, just right for an afternoon relaxing on the grassy banks of the river Vltava, which runs through Prague. I found a spot, spread out my jacket, grabbed my novel and started to chill. Suddenly, I heard over my shoulder every actor's favorite words: "Quiet on the set!" I turned around and realized that, yes indeed, there was a movie in action behind me! I have no idea what it was, or where it will be showing, but I watched take after take of a romantic love scene between two Czech actors who, it appears, couldn't figure out how to make out well enough for the close-ups. After their repeated failures grew tiresome, I turned my gaze to the print sellers along the river. With the sun at the right angle, the prints of typical Prague scenery turn into little shimmering "stained glass windows," producing vivid images that glow, lighting them up in a deceptive, but utterly intriguing, way. From a distance, I watched as artists peddled their wears, as tourists threw coins into the case of a sidewalk guitarists, as boats floated town the Vltava, past the towering castle. And I stayed there until the sun set.

That's the Prague I will remember. And that's the Prague that didn't disappoint.