Prague: Day Five - Cramming in the Rest

In spite of one last Pantagruelesque buffet breakfast and a second day of vividly blue sky, the day gets off to a bad, or at least inauspicious, start.  These are my final hours in Prague, and there’s still quite a bit on my dance card before the taxi picks me up at noon for the ride out to the airport and the flight back to Paris.
       I rush to Old Town Hall to be there for the astronomical clock’s show on the hour.  Only to learn that it starts as of 9 am.  At least I’m not the only naive one staring up at the tower.
       So I decide to do a quick tour of the Decorative Arts Museum, which is fairly nearby.  Had I checked it out yesterday as I passed on the way to the boat dock, I would have found that it’s undergoing renovation - like half of Prague, it seems - and is totally closed to the public until November.
       So it’s on to buy that gift for my neighbor back home who has kindly watered my plants and taken in my mail (which is supposed to be held at the post office, but isn’t).  I thought perhaps a glass cat for her, as she has two pet cats and loves them dearly, and glass is something Prague is known for.  But the shop that has been recommended to me is no longer there.  I do stumble upon a shop that makes absinthe though, so I buy a small bottle for another friend back home.
      All that has taken up almost an hour, so I head back to the astronomical clock.  This time I’m lucky:  early enough to get a front row place for photo-taking.  While I’m waiting, I admire the resolve of a street sweeper who is diligently trying to sweep up cigarette butts from between the cobblestones.  When the clock hands are finally on 9:00, strangely enough the clock strikes only eight times, but I imagine the lack of an archaic mechanism to account for daylight savings time may be the culprit.  The little doors open, the apostles parade out one by one, Death turns his hourglass over, the Turk shakes his head, Vanity admires himself in a mirror, the rooster crows... and the show’s over.  It was wonderful!
       I head toward the Basilica of St. James, where there is a mummified arm said to have belonged to a thief who tried to steal the jewels from the Madonna statue on the high altar.  On the way I find Tynska Street where the glassware shop is supposed to be - the other street was Tyn; my mistake - but the shop is still gone.  However, there is a Freemasonic Club, if you’re a Freemason.
       I’m not sure I understand Prague churches.  They don’t open until 9:30 or 10 am, they charge entrance fees and then they complain there are no “Faithful” among their congregation.  It seems they tend to be rather pick-and-choose about why they’re open at all.  Must be all those years under atheist Communist rule; bad habits were acquired.  I spend the time admiring the oyster bar across from St. James, but its doors are resolutely closed.  When the Basilica finally does open, only the center aisle is navigable and all the pews except both back ones are roped off.  This is obviously just a photo op and not a functioning, praying church.  But the crowning blow is that, after all the waiting... the arm is gone!  Perhaps someone stole it.
       By 10:00, the street actors are out on the town square - two gold men and one angel.  I see them because I go back to actually see the astronomical clock work this time, instead of taking photos of it.

Then it’s off to my last cultural appointment:  the St. Agnes of Bohemia Convent.  And when I get there, it’s free... except for the art collection upstairs, which I don’t have time to see anyway.  And besides, I’ve seen more religious art this trip than I’ve seen in any one place ever before, provided you don’t view ancient Egyptian monuments as an expression of religion.
       In addition to being free, this convent has an
area - not in use right now - for children to play.  There’s a miniature toolbench that looks well used.  And there are small tables with ink pads and square wooden blocks with Gothic letters and many of the shapes I’ve been seeing all over Prague:  stars, flowers, crosses...  It’s a much happier display than the sculptures in the hallway, which include the tombstone, complete with a skull and crossbones, of Poor Clare Antonie de Novelin, who died May 22nd, 1716, at the too early age of 36.  Others are hauntingly beautiful, and I wonder who were these lovely women who lived and died here so very long ago.

       Surrounding the ruined 14th c cloister, the world is all greenery, including vines which once hid the ladies of the convent from the outside world.  Today there are benches to sit on and talk among modern sculptures in the pre-garden.
       The way back to the hotel is through tiny lanes, a world apart from the bustle of the hotel.
       I arrive in plenty of time to use the Czech facilities one last time, grab my suitcase and head down to the lobby to wait for my ride.  The concierge who has been so kind, is there.  Her name is Michaela Roubalova, and to thank me for the roses the other day, she gives me some etchings by... Mucha!  She remembered that was my first stop, and that I told her I loved it when I got back afterwards.  A very thoughtful gift, which I really wasn’t expecting.  The etchings will remind me of my visit to Prague, a work in progress.
       And a truly beautiful city.