Prague by train

I had the good fortune to spend new year in the Czech mountains with some very good friends. I had neglected to buy a return plane ticket, so myself and a small group of our party took ourself off to visit Prague since it was so close it’d be rude not to.

It was approximately a four hour train journey from the nearest train station to where we were staying to Prague’s central station.

As the snow covered Czech countryside passed by our cabin window we chatted about the trip so far, and things we wanted to see in one of the world’s cultural capitals.

I admit I also spent a fair amount of time asleep.

Christmas Redux

First task on arrival was to find a place to stay, thankfully tourist information was able to sort us a very nice place in the old town about 15 minutes tram ride away.

After dumping our bags the second task was to explore!

A short walk from our hotel and we were standing in the famous central square with its Orloj. The square had been taken over by a lively Christmas market, run throughout the whole twelve days of the Christmas celebrations.

Jazz

It was not long before hunger made itself felt, and so Katie led us through the crowds gathered outside the Orloj and over the Charles Bridge to the Jewish quarter.

One thing for which Prague is well known for are its many cosy Jazz bars, and it was to one of these that we made our way.

There was no stage as such, and as we drank our beer and chatted the seats around us began filling up with musicians. Some began playing, seemingly at random.

Periodically some of the musicians went to the bar to order more beer while others began to play. We went through several bands, each changing one member at a time.

“Prague never lets you go… this dear little mother has sharp claws.”

Prague was Franz Kafka’s home, and the Kafka museum – just across the Charles bridge from the old town square where he was born – is interesting (if unsettling), and is well worth a visit.

So to is the Vyšehrad cemetery, a short metro ride from the centre. This quiet graveyard is the final resting place of many famous artists and composers, and has become a pilgrimage for many.

Over the next few days my travelling companions wandered off on their own adventures. I stood again where I had arrived only a few days before, staring up at the boards. Trains arriving from and departing to exotic places.

“Where next?”, I thought.