Prague

July 2016

Oh, Praha, how you won my heart. I spent the longest amount of time in Prague, and it was by far the most memorable of the places I went. It’s your unimagined fairytale come true. It’s Game of Thrones in real life. Walking around, for all you know you could be a princess descending into town from your palace for a special outing. In only five days, it felt like I knew the city like the back of my hand, never needing a map, feeling safe everywhere I went, and yet discovering something new along the way. Looking back, Prague was the turning point of my trip. It was the place that changed me from a homesick American college graduate into a traveller thirsty for more experiences and a greater belief that my dreams were possible to achieve. And no - this transition did not happen upon stepping foot into Prague, and not even on the third day there, but on the day that it came time to leave. Remembering the previous week as if it had been a month, I found myself devastated that I had to go, and absolutely certain that I would be coming back. All of this, was attributed to a little hostel called, The Mad House, tucked away on a side street above a late night take-out pizza place. Ideal, you can imagine. When I describe this hostel, you’re probably going to think, this sounds like the first week of college in your freshman year dorm. And you wouldn’t be wrong. That is what makes this hostel astounding to me. Thousands of miles away from home, with nothing but yourself and a backpack, no family, no friends…and somehow this hostel can recreate the warmest feelings you ever felt back home. 

When I arrived, I got out of the taxi on a main street, with trams passing by, and walked up to the building that matched the address on my reservation. It did not appear to be obvious how to enter, so I checked the address again, thought about calling, and then noticed in the email that the back of this building was the hostel, and I had to enter on a side street. I arrived, seeing the large doors with their sign above it. The door was open, which led to stairs that I began to walk up as I was greeted by a tall guy, named Craig. Craig asked if I was Emily and we discovered that he had been the one I was in contact with through e-mail. At the top of the stairs was another gate, which we went through to get into the building. There was a short hallway, with the kitchen to the right, stairs on the side, and the main office to the left. We went into the main office, which had a desk, a couch with four people sitting on it that I was introduced to, a door to some other room, and a giant clear fridge packed full of beer. He asked if I wanted a free beer, to which I replied, noticing everyone had them, why not? He then gave me a speech that went something like this, all in one breath, “beerisinthefrigeandits40krunawehaveahonorpolicysojustputthemoneyontopofthefridge,hostelisopen24hoursthecodetogetinis2032andthegatecodeis2034,wecandolaundrywhichis50krunaandyougiveittousinthedayandwereturnthenextday” - you get the point. Trying to take in all of the information, I kindly said, “Okay, and if I have questions, you guys will be here to repeat that?”. Craig then gave me a map and I asked him where I should check out and he circled all of the locations, explaining them simultaneously. My room was not going to be ready until 2pm so Craig took me to put my luggage in a back room behind the kitchen, which housed the surveillance cameras. When we came back into the kitchen, Craig left me, and I sat down at the long yellow kitchen table that looked like Van Gogh’s sunflowers and introduced myself to the four guys sitting around it. Their names were Vince, Alex, Francis, and Rafael, and they were all French Canadians. Alex, Francis, and Raf were friends traveling together on a summer vacation and were between the ages of 19-21. The conversation pretty much started how they usually do in hostels; where you’re from, how long you’ve been here, when you’re staying until, what place you just came from, and where you’re heading to next. They had been here two days already and told me about the things they had done and what they recommended. After that had been covered there was playful conversation, telling them I was going to Paris next and they could help me with my french…that is, until they spoke it and I understood nothing with their accents. A girl (alas!) came into the room, with a loud, vivacious energy, giving Vince trouble for the giant -  and I mean, giant, hickey on his neck. I discovered her name was Jamie, and we were grateful that she had opened the conversation to that since we were all dying to say something ourselves. Then we all sat quietly at the table looking over the maps we had been given, trying to plan out what to see next and then discussing what they heard was cool. They said today they were going to check out the old preserved jewish quarter and go to this brewery that had a great birds eye view over Prague. I asked if they mind if I joined, to which Alex replied, “oh we figured you were coming!” 

Today, Alex was in charge of directions. They had been trading off. Along the way there was banter about how well he was doing or how he was taking us the wrong way. It was my first walk around the area, and I was amazed at how every building was grand and elegant, with gold detailing somewhere on it. We passed through this street that is famous for the biggest anti-communist demonstration in Prague in 1989, called the Velvet Revolution, which resulted in a successful transition of power. I knew this because Craig had told me about it in his map explanation. We then finally reached the bridge (one of many bridges on either side of the historic Charles Bridge), when it started to rain. None of us had prepared, and I didn’t much mind, but Vince requested that we stop and wait it out, so we waited on the steps of yet another grandiose building. The rain wasn’t letting up, so we finally decided to just run across the bridge since the path to the brewery was immediately on the other side and there would be tree cover. I might add, that this entire time they are speaking a combination of french, (the canadian kind that is hard to understand) and english and talking about things, like any group of 4 close guy friends would. It was comical, and at the same time made it feel like I had already been friends with them before the previous hour when I met them. When we reached the brewery, it had stopped raining and it was a ton of picnic tables under tree cover, with a little window to order from in the back. I ordered the pilsner and grilled chicken and went to join Vince who had gotten a table.