Prague is a bit like Amsterdam in the sense that it is an exceedingly beautiful city, but the kind of place you’re usually too wasted to really appreciate. Until recently I had not been to Prague, and with three hours to spare at the airport I quizzed my new temporary drinking companion, a lovely old Irishman named Mick, about his experience of the city. Sadly he only remembered a glimpse of it from the boot of a car – having been there on the ubiquitous stag do – but assured me that the momentary glimpse was a very pretty one. Stag do’s and tourist groups appear to make up the majority of the population of Prague in the city centre, the former marching around in full get-up; roaring, singing and swigging unidentifiable coloured spirits. The tourists loved it, and the kitschness of the spectacle actually tallied quite nicely with the mountains of tourist tat we had to orienteer through as we crossed the bridge into the Old Town. These various social interactions take place against a Disney backdrop of Bavarian-esque pink turrets and gold spires. Looking down a street at dusk I could’ve been marching headlong into the Magic Kingdom.
But I’m being deliberately disparaging of course. For those of you snorting with derision at my plebeian misunderstanding of this cultural centre I assure you, I did love it. Warts and all – because none of the above is a lie.
It is merely a wonderfully delicious contrast to the whole of the city outside of that square mile; enhancing the stupendous, visceral impact of an architecturally patchwork landscape reflecting centuries of shifting political and economic change in a remarkably extravagant manner. That is to say, the buildings are bloody lovely.
The following photos were taken on a Nikon D5100 with 18-140mm lens and edited using Adobe Photoshop.