It’s half-day flight to Prague from Zanzibar and many worlds away. I flew by way of Dubai and spent my waking moments staring out the window at our world below, fascinated at how varied it really is.

We flew over the arid deserts and mountains of the Horn of Africa before passing over the Gulf of Aden and the deserts of the Arabian Peninsula to Dubai. There, the temperature was in the mid-40s and the air conditioning wasn’t enough to keep the heat from reaching us on the jetway. It wasn’t until we were safely ensconced in the terminal that the air became frigid and I was happy to have my jacket with me.

From Dubai we flew north and west, over Iran and then Turkey, where the mountains became verdant before making our way through Eastern Europe where the land flattened and became covered with fields. As we climbed out from the Dubai International Airport, I could see the Burj Khalifa rising out of the desert in the distance, caught in the haze.

Landing in Prague I sauntered through immigration; my bag was already on the belt by the time I was done. Outside, it was still light even though it was past 20:00 h. I tosed my bag into an Uber and once again found myself staring out the window as we drove towards the old town.

I was surprised how quiet and empty the streets felt, even after I was dropped off at my Air BnB in the old town. Eva greeted me at the entrance and led me through a courtyard and to the apartment, showing me how each key opened each of the four doors and gates to gain entry.

The apartment was small but well-equipped and more than enough for my needs. It was late and I hadn’t slept much but I couldn’t resist the urge to walk the streets. I took a quick shower and let myself out, checking the key at each door and gate to make sure I could gain reentry. Once on the street I walked east towards the town square.

The square and streets around the square were full of tourists gazing at one thing or another, shopping for souvenirs, eating ice cream out of traditional Czech cakes, looking for their next beer. I was reminded of a night wandering the streets of Vienna in the company of a friend I had met in Moscow, though then it was the fall or winter and the streets were much quieter. We had started in a cool cocktail bar and then Honorata walked me around the town, pointing out the sights: The church, the squares, the doorway where Orson Welles is finally revealed at the end of the first act of The Third Man.

As I walked I got my first views of the castle, Charles Bridge, the clock tower, swept along by the flow of people moving from sight to sight. On the far side of the bridge I stopped for an ice cream, my first in the Czech Republic.

The next morning I slept in.

I had decided to have a slow, short day in order to recover. There was a highly-rated bakery I had decided to visit where I would buy a croissant or a pain au chocolat and a macchiato and then find a park bench in order to sit and enjoy my breakfast. It was a good plan, a simple plan, a plan that would expand and expand again as I found myself close to one sight, which was close to another, and as I had the time I might as well visit one more thing.

As I left the apartment and walked in the direction of the old town square, a building caught my attention as I crossed an intersection. It was a block away and I turned my attention to it, finding myself in front of a statue of Franz Kafka. It stood outside the Spanish Synagogue and I took a moment to consider touring the museum. Inside, there was a short line in front of the ticketing booth and I decided against it. I wanted to see the city first; I’d return to the museum another day.

I continued on, walking past beautiful the beautiful streets and buildings of old town Prague, returning to the square I had visited the night before and continuing on to cross the Charles Bridge, the oldest bridge still standing over the Vltava river in Prague and the second-oldest bridge in the Czech Republic.

On the bridge I caught my first sight of the castle during the day, its spires reaching up into the skies as if to puncture the clouds that had descended upon the city. Later, it may have been successful as a light rain would fall.

The bridge was crowded with tourists. And as I admired the sculptures that dotted the railings, I also watched the actions of those around me, pausing at the St. John of Nepomuk’s statue to pet the dog and touch the picture of him falling into the river. The former brings either good luck or a long-lasting relationship; the latter assures one’s eventual return to Prague.

On the other end I walked towards and then emerged from the arches of the Lesser Town Bridge Towers to be rewarded with and walked towards St. Nicholas Church.

Checking the map I saw I was near the Lennon Wall and decided to make a quick detour to have a look. A group of Asian tourists were posing with each other and inspecting the various messages posted to the wall. I made a quick survey and moved on.

From the Lennon Wall I walked through a quiet neighborhood before emerging back on the main road. I walked through a park along the boulevard and found the bakery right next door. I bought a croissant and a coffee and took it to a park bench to enjoy my breakfast while taking in the morning air.

My next stop was the castle, but en route I was distracted by the Kostel sv. Mikuláše. I checked the time; I didn’t really have a set schedule and decided to duck in. It’s beautiful baroque cathedral, built in the 17th and 18th centuries, and I lingered to admire the architecture, sculpture, and artwork. Outside, the day was becoming a little blustery, and I was happy to find sanctuary in the quiet calmness.

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