Paradise Found

Today was our first fully rested day and night in Prague. No day can start without our morning ritual of Gayle and Linda comparing the condition of their feet, skin, and current state of their hair structure. All of the above change at least nightly. Naturally, yours truly is on the web, only marginally interested.

We scurried over to the Hradcany Castle right when it opened at 9am. Lucky for us, we entered St Vitus Cathedral before the “Corn Dog” packs arrived. For those of you not familiar with this term it comes from the many tour groups that is led by a leader who keeps an unfurled umbrella raised at all times. Asian groups use compact umbrellas whereas German use full sized red or black ones and Italians use bright multi-colored ones.

The early morning cloud strewn light allowed the stain glass windows to shimmer. The Mucha window is particularly unusual and interesting.

One huge memorial has over a ton of silver angels, cherubs and spiritual figures one lovingly holding a cross and while another brandishes a sword. One blissful cherub flutters about pointing to the location of the martyr John Nepomuk’s severed tongue. Interesting series of conflicting views, don’t you think? The memorial was demanded by the Czech people who felt the Catholic Church did not represent the people’s interest. I suppose when one invests a ton of silver it shows you’re definitely interested.

We walked up one of the towers. Several maroon signs warn that the climb to the tower top involves 287 steps which spirals tightly towards the heavens. We made the climb winded, dazed, and woozy. The views though were very inspiring and quickly filled our cameras. Before we descended we sat on some benches and watched a steady group of Italian youths step out of the staircase. It was satisfying to see them winded, dazed, and tremblingly woozy. One gal was so expressive that Linda started to take her picture. Her shock and expressions made it clear that this was not to be a Kodak moment. As we flew down the staircase, it was fun to hear Italian, Czech, German, and many dialects share the human bond of directed communication. Each group asking the same question, “Whose idea was this?”

By the time we left, entry into the church involved a long lines, chunked by groupings of corn dog led tourist groups.

We finished the day with a walk down tranquil Kampa Island and back. Then we walked down the Charles Bridge prepared for hordes of pick-pockets and gypsies. We did not find much of that action but found loads of artists, charcoal portrait artists, and jewelry vendors. In several places musician’s treated us to Slavic style tunes. In one location, I saw a blind mother being led by her daughter. The daughter was carrying a strange backpack. Later down the bridge they treated us to several serenades (See movie)