It’s a very good thing there are no dog droppings on the streets of Prague, because the way I’m craning my neck at all the buildings and their decorations, my shoes would be coated in brown by now.
And today’s long walk will confirm that. By the time evening comes, this will go down in the annals as The Day of Steps, both horizontal and vertical.
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| Male Nam Square |
I start off early, back toward the river via the Old Town Square, with a quick look into the Old Town Hall where a class trip is obviously scheduled for a visit. The streets are all very interesting in and of themselves because pedestrian traffic is heavy and Prague-ites appear to be zippy drivers. So a paving distinction is made, with sidewalks tiled in small granite black-and-white squares and the streets paved in black bricks, with elongated black shale separating the two. (And that shale is a good place to walk, because it’s flat and easier on the feet... provided your balance is up to snuff.)
By 9 a.m. I’ve reached Karlova Street and pass an American couple, judging by their accent. Nothing too surprising in that, you say, except that she’s wearing a floor-length evening dress and he’s in a tuxedo. I guess Prague is not only a city of amazing architecture but of elegant all-night parties as well.
My first sight of the Charles Bridge is under resolutely grey skies. As I walk to the edge of the river to take a photo of the Castle and St. Vitus Cathedral on the opposite hill, I can’t help but notice lots of what has become known as “love locks”, the kind that caused a section of the cast-iron railing of the Pont des Arts in Paris to collapse into the Seine under their weight. As I walk through this other European capital, I’ll find them all over the place, on both banks of the river, anywhere they can be attached.
It’s early and very few merchants have set up their stands yet. But the swans have already congregated in the river below. Partway across the bridge sits a man with a small dachshund in his lap, his hat upturned in front of him. He lets me pet the dog, and watches as an Oriental couple poses in their wedding finery for a photo. Just like that garden gnome who sent Amélie Poulain photos from his trip around the world, such couples - probably Japanese - now seem to roam the Earth on their respective honeymoons, schlepping wedding dresses and tuxedos from one capital to the next and having their photo taken in each. I’ll see them over and over again throughout my five days here. (Not the same ones; different ones - probably a dozen in all.)
Charles Bridge has 30 statues, 15 to a side (if I counted right). Some are the originals, some have been restored, others replaced by copies. Some are lone saints, others in twos, still others are groupings of threes with either Christ or the Madonna. Most are made of stone darkened by the years, but some have gilded or bronze highlights that stand out because legend says that touching a particular part of the statue will bring you luck. One that's touched a lot is actually made of bronze: St. John Nepomuk (a new one on me, but then again I’m neither Catholic nor Czech). He was thrown off the bridge by King Wenceslas IV and left to drown, so I’m not really sure he’s a good candidate for bringing you luck, but there you are - it’s legend. And also the oldest statue on the bridge, which had none when built in the 14th century. Most of them came along four centuries later. I touch the plaque on the right, and then the one with the little dog on the left. You can never have enough good luck. And besides, I like dogs.
At the west end of the bridge stands the Lesser Town Tower. It seems like a good idea to climb up to the top and see the bridge from above, along with a different view of the castle. For those of you who are thinking of doing it, there are 145 steps, the last ones very steep (like the steps on a ship). It’s not for the tall either, given the limited headroom in places. And it’s definitely not for those suffering from acrophobia (the fear of heights).
The view is magnificent, even without much sunshine. You get a better feel for the width of the bridge, and all those tourists are just colored scatterings. As for St. Vitus Cathedral and the walls of the castle, they seem to float on a sea of red-tiled roofs from which steeples jut out here and there.
On the way back down, I ask the young man at the upper-but-not-top level how many people can fit up there at one time, because it seemed a bit crowded on the very narrow walkway. As happens often here in spite of many people speaking excellent English, he replies to a question other than the one I asked, telling me that about 150 people climb up every day, which isn’t a lot given the number of tourists in Prague. So count me as one of the crazies.
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