Before these crowded streets

And so, after celebratory pancakes, I consulted with Ondrej and Ondrej for some last minute advice about their hometown to which I would so soon be voyaging.  To be honest, their words were disheartening – they thought badly of the area where I would be staying and seemed convinced of my impending mugging/kidnapping/general downfall in the face of debauchery.  Despite their confidence, I met my bus and rolled into the night.  Then, I got off the bus and did not get lost finding the hostel.  The hostel was clean, safe and friendly.  Then next morning, they even gave me breakfast.  So far, Prague was proving a most hospitable city.

Playing the tourist can be fun and challenging.  Of course, given the nature of my recreational visit, I was indeed a tourist, but no one wants to admit this.  I did my best not to share the appearance of the wide-eyed elderly couples with whom I shared the sidewalk en route to the Old Town Square.  The amazement aspect of their expressions was difficult not to adopt; the proud buildings strutted on all sides with impressive confidence.  Around the gothic–looking fountain, many free tours were advertised in a variety of languages.  I sidled up to the English speakers and let them lead me through the Jewish Quarter.  All the synagogues and the cemetery here make up the parts of one of the largest collective museums.  It was here that the Jewish residents of Prague were relegated in the centuries of yore.  Here, the mythical Golem was born of the Earth to protect against crusaders outside the ghetto walls.  Here, the Synagogue perhaps bearing my name resides.  The Old New Synagogue, Alt-Neu Shul is still an operational place of worship – in fact Shabbos services kept me from peeking inside.  Luckily, there are many beautiful Jewish buildings to sample.  I thought the Spanish Synagogue was a gem of architecture.  The existential statue of Franz Kafka right outside the Spanish Synagogue was also neat, though somewhat unrelated to the rose windowed palace behind it.  Despite the segregation of the Jews in Prague for several centuries, they prospered and so did the area.  Today, the finest boutiques are found along Parizska Street, so named for its resemblance to a French boulevard. 

It was only after an hour of educational tourage and our return to the Square that the guide sidled up to me to inform me that this, unlike the others, was not actually a free tour.  Therefore, independently, slightly embarrassed, but also content in that I had seen all of that area I had hoped to see, I set off.  I was evicted just in time to see the famous clock tower show in which the hour is celebrated at the historic church with live action music and performance from the top of the tower.  Now engulfed by the mass of the tourist crowd I had so expressly disavowed, I was ferried toward the river.  Prague, you see, is much akin to Budapest in its construction.  A river separates two halves of a city once divided.  A flat commercialized half is now accessible to a hilly castle-bearing half by a series of bridges.  In Prague, one such of these connective structures is the historic Charles Bridge traversable only by foot traffic.  Originally the only method of crossing the mighty Vltava River, the bridge is now it a popular destination and purveyor of vendors.  Among the Baroque statues,you can find caricaturists, street musicians, and amateur jewelers.  Merchants peddle their wares there where bicyclists pedal.  On the far shore, I walked along what is actually an island, delineated by a thin offshoot of the River.  Kampa, as is it known, hosts some small shops and a sculpture garden.  After a needed stop-off in a quaint (and centrally heated) independent bookstore, I was on foot again. 

The subtitle of my journey abroad should have been something about ascent or heighth.  In addition to moral improvement, I have repeatedly pursued the highest point from which to view the places I have been and perhaps the destinations I will be reaching.  This adventure would be no exception, for while not planned, I had come to the park containing Petřín Tower, observatory and highest point in all Prague.  The tower itself is not enormously tall, but it stands on an impressive hill, giving it the leg-up it needs to survey the city skyline.  Up this hill I climbed, sweating in the cold, glad I had left my roller-skates at home.  Petřín resembles the Eifel tower, but is quite different in its conception.  Octagonal rather than square in base, for instance, Petřín winds upwards.  There are two alternating staircases and an elevator running through the core.  For reduced cost and added punishment, I elected to take the stairs, and my climb continued.  The clear afternoon offered an engaging vantage point and the opportunity to plot the remainder of my course. 

I descended through the gardens, and then scaled still higher to the castle beyond.  Looking out over the vista spilling out before me, the sun setting with the coy blush of a first date departure, I realized how lucky I was to be alive and exploring the sights of this world.  After I wandered through the grounds and made faces at the stony expressioned guards, I followed the path back down to the river.  The colors of the sky slowly drained as if sipped by a thirsty giant just over the horizon.  Just when I thought it could not get darker, all the lights of the city ignited simultaneously.  The streetlamps were of the older design that gives off an insufficient golden yellow light in isolation, which somehow shines bright collectively.  This illumination was reflected in the eyes of the passerby as I ambled back among the crowded streets.  Just as I thought to look for provisions, I came upon a little Czech restaurant with a promoter out front.  I could tell his spiel had gone unspled, so I accepted his invitation inside.  So validated, he told the hostess to give me a discount.  This only gave me license to enjoy all the more.  The food was delicious and I went back to the hostel happy to seek some shuteye before the ride back.

PS: Just as I was getting up to catch the bus (circa 5:30am), my hostel roommates were just getting back from their nighttime revelry.  Pesky meddling kids.