What better place to first savour the gems of Eastern Europe than the Czech Republic – home to the beautifully spooky Bone Church, medieval town squares lined in cobblestones and crowned in gargoyles, hearty and food and beer, bohemian crystal, and a culture that is rich with folklore of witches and golems.

We landed in Prague after almost 24 hours in transit. Not quite knowing what to expect, and armed with all the pent-up excitement of a life-long dream, I watched as he steps out of the airport.

My husband, after all these years, has finally made it to Europe for the very first time; and more significantly, to his Prague… the one he was always told he had to visit, the one city that he would feel a sense of belonging in, the one he dreamed of. The look on his face says it all, and I feel an overwhelming gratitude that I am here to share it with him.

Read more to find out why Prague quickly became one of our favourite cities in the world.

We check into Hotel Julian, a quirky, art-deco establishment on the outskirts of the historic Mala Strana quarter – four star comfort at the spectacular Eastern-block discount of $80 a night. The staff are friendly and fluent in English, and practically trip over themselves to fetch us an aperitif in the lounge. The decor is clearly a factor in it’s popularity on tripadvisor – reminiscent of Henry Higgins’ mansion, with a hint of Willy Wonka, the rich furnishings strewn with wooden toys and the paraphernalia of an eccentric collector.

We crash as soon we are shown to the room. It’s only 3.00pm, but we’re exhausted and manage to sleep through til the morning. (A good decision in retrospect, considering our hectic itinerary for the remainder of the six weeks!)

The next day, he is excited over the discovery of an old-school shoe-buffer in the reception, whilst I revel in the range of muesli, dried fruit, cured sausage, sliced cheese and the myriad flavours of yoghurt for breakfast. (I’ve never understood why Europe has always had amazing yoghurt, but terrible milk!)

Bellies stuffed, and after some advice from the receptionist, we decide to walk up to the Castle instead of taking the tram. But somewhere between dropping our keys at the front desk and exiting the hotel, we transform into the epitome of the map-flouting, guidebook-toting, snap-happy tourist. Every building left, right, and center of our route is immortalised on film by our over-zealous Canon – which we later realise is utterly ridiculous considering the districts we are passing through have the architectural artistry of Newcastle compared to Prague Old City.

Nevertheless, stereotypes in tow, we meander up the hill to the Castle, our trigger finger now as warmed up as our feet.

Halfway up, we stop for a break. (It was a long walk!) We indulge in our first European coffee (needless to say, delicious) and the Czech custom of serving stale chips (in place of salted nuts) at a street-side cafe, while we watched a procession of Castle guards march up the cobblestones. It starts to drizzle, so we huddle close under the flimsy canopy and wait for it pass. There’s something about Prague in the rain… 🙂

Having had our caffeine fix, we set off again and finally arrive at a grand white building, with dozens of people queued outside. “This must be it!”, we exclaim.

Apparently not.

The recent unearthing of a funeral crypt at The Loreto – a pilgrimage site and Baroque Church – has attracted quite the crowd. We decide to wait with them, listening to the chime of the 27-bell carillon play “A Thousand Times We Greet Thee” on the hour, and then shuffle through the opening doors.

On display at the special exhibit are all the findings from the crypt; transferred frescoes, paintings, coffins, tabernacles, embroidered wall hangings, heavy tomes and funeral portraits. Skulls – everywhere!

The Loreto is open from 9.00am – 5.00pm during summer months, and costs a mere AU $9 for adult entry. Visit the website for more information.

Happy with our accidental discovery, we give ourselves +10 darkness points each, and continue on our way to the real Castle. I hand over the map to him after I decide it makes no sense to me – a wise decision considering I’d been holding it upside down all day.

My faithfulness to his navigation skills pays off, as we find ourselves in an imposing square lined with equally imposing, but majestic, government buildings. He is humbled, awed, and awash with emotion I can’t begin to fathom (but can glimpse brimming behind his sunglasses).

Just behind him, looms the Castle.

It is impressively huge; “the largest castle in the world”, my city guidebook tells me, spanning over half a kilometer in length, and filled with not only the royal residential quarters, but also shops, restaurants, historical tours, and the cathedral. Guarded by two identical drones, the gates are flooded with tourists, civil servants, security personnel… and monks.

We stroll through the massive structure (it’s free entry); feet aching (we have discovered that while cobblestones are pretty to look at, they are also extremely tiring to walk on) and trigger finger well past sore, we eventually emerge from the Eastern end of the Castle, to the garden’s entrance. It’s about this time that the battery in our camera dies. Not a bad effort for six hours worth of happy-snapping. Resigning ourselves to our iPhones only, we rest for a few minutes (with a couple of local beers) and carry on towards Karluv Most.

Back down the hill, an impromptu stop at an Absinthe Bar leaves us reeling and eyes wide open to a different side to Prague…

A street lined with marionette shops lures us in. The musty smells take me back to childhood stories of Gepetto’s shop; traditional puppets in the form of Pinocchio himself hang alongside ghouls, fairies, and witches (the latter seemingly a Czech favourite given their abundance). The floorboards squeak under our weary feet; a half-toothless smile appears from the shopkeeper; the aforementioned cocktails make this a wonderfully haunted experience as the faces of the wooden dolls seem to leer and swing towards us as we walk pass.

Outside, he pauses for a moment, grabbing my hand to stop me marching down the hill. I stand tall above him on the pavement; he is down on the road. He pulls out a box from his bag – “another ring??” I am bemused. No, not a ring, but a beautiful, blue, Bohemian crystal heart, to wear around my neck til the end of days!

Oh Prague, you are indeed magical; there is no better word to describe it. Two-toned; domed in the aqua of tarnished copper, and tiled in terra cotta, you have taken our breath away.

We spin our own dark fairytale, walking hand-in-hand across the infamous Karluv Most (Charles Bridge) at twilight. The stone archways into Old Town are our Cinderella’s Castle; the glowing street lamps lining the way are made of spindled cast iron, akin to Sleeping Beauty’s prison; the cobblestone streets remind us of a medieval Disneyland. Prague Castle looks down on us from the hills, crowned by the black spires of St Vitus Cathedral, while the Old Town courtyard is framed by a myriad gothic masterpieces, each adorned with smiling cherubs, grinning devils, and grotesque gargoyles.

Prague, in all it’s gritty, dark glamour, finally shines after sunset. We stumble through the cobblestones alleys, drunk on dark beer and absinthe. A hooded tour guide brandishing a scythe hisses at us, beckoning us to join his midnight ghost tour of Prague; we laugh but take a flyer “just in case”.

Ravenous after the day, we scout the restaurants for some traditional Czech fare. We settle for pork knuckle, goulash with dumplings and pickled chilli, and two more glasses of the local beer… The feast puts us back a measly AUD15.

A German lady behind us raises her mug and salutes, “Prost”.

I smile and do the same.

Map of our walk:

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