A zombie appeared and disappeared at irregular intervals as we strolled lazily across the famous Charles Bridge in Prague.
You know the type: white face, wild hair, weird eyes, threatening air. We avoided eye contact and nervously hurried onwards and lost it among the tourist crowds. A minute later, there it was again. Blocking our path, staring hungrily. We decided we had had enough of Charles Bridge and escaped into the narrow streets of Mala Strana.
Apart from this, Prague was all good. Well, except for the pouring rain as we explored the castle. It put a damper on our mood as we ran shivering between the cathedral, the White Tower and Golden Lane. But the lazy hour we spent in a warm, cozy café afterwards was worth it. We felt that we had earned our lemon tarte and excellent coffee.
Memorable moments included:
* drinking Staropramen on the roof terrace of a dancing house
* asking a stranger in the street for directions and discovering that he was able to sing our own national anthem to us - in Finnish
* discussing whether a horse can be painted, in the Old Town square
* gawking at all the impossibly beautiful buildings all over town
* having serious trouble finding dark beer in the capital of beer
* realising that the Astronomical Clock isn't a good meeting place at the strike of the hour
* listening to a sermon in Czech, only understanding the words for "truth" and "love" - but what else do you need from a sermon?
* pretending to be Czech as we travelled back and forth on trams and subway trains
* taking the wrong tram and deciding to stay on it and see what happened, in the company of a crowd of nuns
* being struck dumb with horror and awe in the Jewish Quarter, where Hitler had intended to create "a museum of an extinct race"
* being struck dumb with delight and awe at a Mozart dinner opera, where we drank Czech pinot noir and fell in love with classical music (and the baritone)
* getting a private guided tour which included a tame duck, many insults, political debate and shouting of the word "absinthe!"
* finding a lunch place far from the tourist streets, complete with surly waiters, incomprehensible menus and excellent bramboracky that cost next to nothing
* giggling over sweet American cocktails after an exhausting day
Sometimes I long to travel in luxury - being whisked from my grandiose hotel in an expensive car to an exclusive restaurant. Not having to do all the hard work of budget travelling.
But I have now decided that I much prefer travelling like I always do - walking for hours on aching feet, eating strange meals in local pubs, staying in tiny back street hotels, squeezing into trams filled to bursting with tired commuters, their dogs and their dripping umbrellas.
How else would you discover the hidden treasures of a city in the real world?
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