We flew to Prague via Philadelphia, with a five-hour wait between landing in the hometown of W.C. Fields and our flight across the ocean. It's nice not to be rushed when one travels . . . but I can think of a lot of places I would rather spend my time than an airport. Pretty much all places, really.
The flight was long but uneventful. At one point I glanced around the cabin and could see four people watching Aquaman and three viewing Captain Marvel on the little seat-back screens which keep the passengers tranquil. Of the two, I recommend Aquaman as the better movie to watch with no sound.
We reached Prague on Sunday morning, spent time in line waiting to get our passports stamped, waited some more for our bags to appear, and finally got a taxi into the city. Our rental flat wasn't actually ready yet, so we killed some time by having lunch nearby and lingering shamelessly.
The flat was pleasant enough. The building looked like post-World War I construction, very solid but not unattractive. Our apartment had high ceilings and good ventilation, so it was quite comfortable even on the warmest evenings. As it was an AirBnB property, the furnishings were the usual mix of thrift-store items and IKEA. Reminded me of my first apartment.
The main flaw was that it was described in the listing as a third-floor apartment, and that was technically true. If one got into the coffin-sized elevator and pressed "3" one arrived on the landing by our door. However: recall that in Europe, the elevator doesn't start on floor 1, but on floor 0. Also, our building had commercial space on the ground floor, so floor 0 of the apartments was actually on what we Americans would call the second story. In short, our third-floor apartment was on the fifth floor, and the tiny elevator meant that two-thirds of our adventuring party had to climb the stairs every time we returned.
This is not mere griping, as it is interesting to see how it affected our sightseeing. Because there was a high "fixed cost" of going out (you'd have to climb five flights of stairs), we tended to go out on extended expeditions, often with multiple goals, rather than just popping in and out on a whim.
After unpacking and resting up (our internal clocks thought it was bedtime in the middle of the afternoon, plus nobody slept well on the plane) we ventured out into Prague!
A little orientation: the part of Prague we were staying in was the Old Town (Stare Mesto). The specific section our flat was in was the old Jewish quarter — indeed, we were just across the street from the back of the Moorish-fantasy Spanish Synagogue building. The heart of the Old Town is Old Town Square (Staromestske Namesti), home of the famous Astronomical Clock and a spectacular early 20th century monument to Jan Huss.
More to our purposes, Old Town Square is also home to both the Prague Tourist Information office and the Czech Tourist Information office. We hit both and loaded up on brochures, maps, and timetables.
We woke the third member of the party and went out for dinner at a different nearby restaurant, where we tried our first authentically Czech meal. We shared a platter of traditional Czech appetizers — cheese, smoked meat, pickled sausage, onions, and head cheese. This cried out to be accompanied by beer, so I had the first of many beers in Prague. I honestly believe more beer is consumed by volume than water in that city. (During tourist season, at least.)
For my meal I had something called "Moravian Sparrow" which turned out to be a pork stew accompanied by two different kinds of braised cabbage (red and white) and Czech bread dumplings (houskove knedliky). I believe I had bread dumplings at least once a day for our entire visit. They're pretty good. Dr. Kelly had braised rabbit (also good) with potato dumplings
After dinner the rest of the adventurers wanted to stay in the flat and look at screens, because you can't do that in Massachusetts, so I ventured out on my own, taking advantage of Prague's very late midsummer sunset to have a look at the city and get my bearings. I wandered along the Vltava river, passing the Rudolfinium concert hall and reaching the famous Charles Bridge before turning back.
The Charles Bridge is the oldest bridge in town, and for a long time was the only bridge. The Old Town end of it is also the heart of the cheesiest tourist section of Prague — strip clubs, one of several TORTURE MUSEUMS, shops selling cannabis beer, visitors peeing in the shrubbery, and my first encounter with the Prague Pedal Party Bar (a mobile beer bar, powered by the pedaling of the patrons on board; it careens about Old Town Prague from pub to pub every night).
Properly tired after a long flight, a big meal, and a long walk, I climbed the five flights up to our third-floor apartment and collapsed for a long sleep on my first night in Prague.
Next time: The Castle!
Comments