My first trip to Europe was in 2004, and it sparked my interest in travel. Since then, I have been to 19 foreign countries and want only to be able to travel for a living.
This photo was taken at the Castle Quarter in Prague. I'm actually curious how close I would have had to get before I either got a reaction out of this guy or was kindly escorted away by his comrades (or colleagues, since we're talking post-communist era here).
Though my ushanka with its Soviet emblem clearly labeled me as a tourist, I couldn't resist buying it. The shopkeeper swore that the emblem wouldn't offend anyone, but I removed it shortly after this photo was taken and only replaced it when I got back to the States.
Incidentally, about a third of Prague's population sports similar fur hats in the winter, and my touristy trinket actually helped me fit in - until I opened my mouth and butchered the language.
The two vents in the photo (one under the guard's feet and the other just behind it in the shack) are heaters to keep the guys warm.
After 99 previous posts, I have a few I particularly like, so I'll just list them here.
I'm not sure if I like them for the merit of the writing, the subject matter or from remembering the experience, but they stick out to me as my favorites. Click on the bold text for the original article.
Paris Throws a Party This was my first blog post, and I originally wrote it as an assignment for my column and review writing class in college. I had a habit of procrastinating, and that assignment was no different. I wrote it an hour before it was due in The State Hornet newsroom while the fire alarm was going off over my head and my editor was interviewing me for a copy editing position (no joke). It worked out, since I got an A on the assignment, I got the copy editing job and the school didn't burn down.
Bruges: Belgium's Jewel In the movie In Bruges, the characters hate this canal city that was the financial capital of Europe in the past. I happen to love it, and I plan on returning. It's tied with Rothenburg ob der Tauber for my favorite small town in the world.
Prague at Dawn I really enjoyed Prague. It had a special appeal as it was my first trip to a former Communist Bloc country. Wandering around the city by myself an hour before dawn and watching it wake up was a unique experience, and one I hope to replicate the next time I'm in Paris.
A visit to Normandy Having minored in European history in college, and having been interested in World War II before that, Normandy always held a special fascination with me. Growing up, I never thought I would get the chance to visit the battlefield.
The Mad King's Fairy Tale Castle Schloss Neuschwanstein is the epitome of a fairy tale castle, and it should be at the top of the list for anyone visiting Germany. Disney based a castle on it, and it has graced thousands of postcards, TV shows and movies. The views from the top of the Alps and the nearby lowlands are fantastic, and a walk across the wood-planked bridge nearby isn't for those with a fear of heights.
The problem I had was due to jet lag, which had really messed up my body's clock, leaving me staring at the ceiling of my hotel room in Prague as I contemplated what to do.
It was to be my last day in the city, which I had been told was fantastic at dawn. By 6 a.m., I decided I would brave the cold and experience what everyone else had told me about.
As it was just two weeks before Christmas, and snow blanketed the hills around the city, I bundled up in a sweatshirt, gloves, my full-length wool coat and the imitation Soviet fur hat I'd bought a couple of days earlier. To my surprise, the fur hat wasn't a cliche in Prague - many of the locals wore them.
Grabbing my camera, I headed out of the room, leaving a note for my family telling them I would be back for breakfast.
When I stepped into the street, the cold air bit at my face, and I was thankful for my warm clothes. I wandered through streets illuminated only by streetlights and passed very few people. A homeless man slept sitting up in a small alcove, a pair of trash collectors puffed steam as they labored with an overloaded bin, and two British guys stumbled out of a pub, which I was surprised to see still had a healthy amount of people sitting at the bar. As I had no desire to down a pint of Pilsner Urquell or Budvar, despite how good they are, I kept going.
I was headed to the Old Town Square, and the sky wasn't even giving the slightest hint that dawn was approaching. It was interesting to see the place without the crowds of people and the Christmas Market going full-swing, and I was amazed at how alone I felt.
Since there was nothing to do, I headed over to the Charles Bridge, which had been a solid mass of people every time I'd seen it. When i arrived, however, there were only two or three other people on it. The sky was finally starting to lighten up, but was just a dull red color. I walked to the far end, on the side of the Castle Quarter, and I set up my tripod and camera, taking several extremely long exposures that I hated and instantly deleted. The gateway to the castle looked mystical, but I wasn't able to capture it on my camera, so I decided to let some time pass and hope that the conditions would get better with more light.
As the light improved, I got a photo that I was somewhat happy with (below), but it certainly wasn't the "photographer's magic hour" I'd read about. As the sun finally rose and I played around with the camera, I realized the reason that thing's weren't as advertised - the sky was overcast.
I walked back toward my hotel as the city was waking up. The hordes of people weren't out yet, and shopkeepers opened their doors, swept the streets in front of them and set up outdoor displays. The smells from a bakery filled one corner, and I was suddenly eager to get to breakfast.
Prague's Jewish Cemetery holds about 14,000 graves. Used primarily in the Middle Ages, the headstones are very old. Many of them have smaller stones on top of them, an homage to desert burials, where rocks are laid atop the graves to keep the sand from being blown away and exhuming the bodies.
As the ground settled over time, the once-upright headstones began to lean, eventually ending up in their current state.
When I landed in Prague, I stepped out of the plane onto the runway, which was being dusted with a fine coating of snow, then boarded the bus to the terminal.
As the taxi drove my family and I to our hotel, I got my first views of the city I had dreamed of coming to for so long. The headlights illuminated block after block of Baroque architecture.
It wasn’t what I had expected. I’d been told Prague was beautiful, and I’d seen pictures of course, but I had always assumed that I had seen the historic heart of the town. Little did I know that most of the city, aside from what the Soviets built, retains its historic architecture and facades.
We stopped at our hotel, the Pension Green Garland, dropped our luggage off, and walked a couple short blocks to the Old Town Square, dominated by its clock tower and the belfries of the Church of Our Lady of Týn.
The sight would have been magnificent in its own right, but it was made more so by the cluster of low-slung shacks that made up the Christmas market, selling decorations, trinkets, souvenirs and food. Towering over the Christmas market was the best Christmas tree I’ve ever seen.
It wasn’t ostentatious, but it was so well-done that it just looked right at place, and the ornaments weren’t even the focal point. Aside from the bluish lights that occasionally flashed, there were another type of light that I had never seen before, but would see all over France and Germany in the next couple of weeks. They were foot-long tubes of LED lights that scrolled downward. The effect made the tree appear to be dripping light.
At other places around the square, tall wire-framed angels bedecked in lights and playing trumpets added to the festive spirit. As I worked through the crowds under the light snow to scope out some of the food, ranging from sausages to Trdlo (a cinnamon-roll type food I will write about soon), a group of carolers on a nearby stage struck up Christmas songs…in English.
I gazed around and savored the moment. I stood under an overhang out of the snow, sharing the space with a group of Czechs sipping their hot mulled wine and eating sausages. To think that it has only been 20 years since the Communists were thrown out seemed absurd. The city was brightly painted and everyone seemed happy.
My overall impression of Prague on that first night was of a city basking in
its freedom. Though it saw better glory years when it was a commercial center and prospered under the rule of kings such as Charles IV, I think that to be so alive in such a relatively short time after the drab life under Communist rule, the heart of the city makes a statement for itself and the Czech Republic.
As I explored Prague over the next few days, there was always something more I wanted to see. While it doesn’t beat Parisfor my favorite city in the world (that’s a pretty tall order), I loved my time there. Unlike much of Europe, it wasn’t ravaged in the wars of the past century, and remains one of the best-preserved capitals in the world.
As I went through Europe after visiting Prague, I traveled to medieval walled cities dusted with snow, larger cities famous for their Christmas markets such as Nuremberg in Germany and Strasbourg and Paris in France, but none of them eclipsed Prague for the feeling of festivity and beauty of the tree. Despite my affinity for Paris, the tree in front of Notre Dame on Christmas Eve didn’t come close to evoking the same sense of majesty as the one in Prague.
This photo was taken at the Castle Quarter in Prague. I'm actually curious how close I would have had to get before I either got a reaction out of this guy or was kindly escorted away by his comrades (or colleagues, since we're talking post-communist era here).
