Rediscovering Prague
March 27 in Czech Republic ⋅ ☀️ 6 °C
It has been over fifteen years since we last set foot in Prague, and returning to the "City of a Hundred Spires" feels like reconnecting with an old, sisticated friend. The primary reason for thisRead more
Walking in Prague & EPA Congress
March 31 in Czech Republic ⋅ ☁️ 8 °C
Our final days in Prague were a balanced mix of professional lectures and empirical observation. Navigating the city’s architectural layers—from the Romanesque foundations of Vyšehrad to theRead more
Florin Paun
Prague from the river at night is a lesson in 14th-century engineering. Passing under the arches of the Charles Bridge, the sheer scale of the Gothic masonry and the silhouette of the Old Town Bridge Tower dominate the horizon. The setup was purely functional: cold Pilsner Urquell, olives, and peanuts. It’s the baseline for observing the city without the street-level noise. From the water, you get a clear look at the illumination of the St. Francis of Assisi Church dome and the surrounding stone structures. No myths, no forced narratives—just the river, the beer, and the weight of the history in front of you.
Florin Paun
Amidst the stone and iron, nature launches its own precise, annual offensive. This is Petřín Hill in full, unashamed bloom—a relentless avalanche of pink and white cherry and almond blossoms. It’s an almost absurdly romantic counterpoint to the city’s complex, gothic soul. The air is thick with a scent that is both intoxicating and transient, a fragrant reminder that while Prague’s architecture fights for immortality, life itself is measured in moments.
Florin Paun
From the top of Petřín, you understand why they call it the 'City of a Hundred Spires.' The Vltava river snakes through the center, a silver ribbon separating the Old Town from the labyrinth of the Malá Strana. Looking down, you see the red-tiled roofs and the silent, stone witnesses of the Charles Bridge. It is a view that demands perspective. You realize that while empires, kings, and political ideologies have come and gone, the river and these stones remain remarkably indifferent to the passage of time. It’s the perfect place to look down on the world and realize how small our daily anxieties actually are. Just pure, unadulterated history under a clear blue sky.
Florin Paun
A pre-dawn start. The cruel return of night ice on Zurich's streets, a reminder that nature holds no respect for tight flight schedules. My destination: Prague. Departure, a precisely timed 7:25 AM. At the boarding gate, the meticulous scrutiny that only the Swiss and certain airlines truly master. My Rimowa—the quintessential 'intellectual traveler's companion'—was subject to a geometric Inquisition. Size: acceptable, if only by a few millimeters. Weight: a slightly more serious offence, clocking in at 0.5 kg over the limit. The attendant paused. A silent judgment. In a rare act of bureaucratic clemency, I was passed through. It seems even in the world of precise regulations, there is room for empirical grace. Let's hope the landing is as accommodating...
Florin Paun
Pytloun Old Armoury. A brilliant tactical decision for anyone looking to truly merge their sleep with historical immersion. The atmosphere is thick with the spirit of the Middle Ages—arched ceilings, antique weaponry, and heavy, carved wood. It’s the breakfast, however, that steals the morning show. The high-end, extensive spread is fantastic, offering every conceivable delicacy. Yet, the real performance happens right beside the buffet. In this great hall, we witnessed the 'Battle of the Warhorses': several, shall we say, 'sturdy' ladies from Germany, who were quite busy, over-utilizing the available provisions, showing an almost strategic engagement with the pastries. Just a great place all around.
Florin Paun
Arrived. We secured our Prague Tourist Cards directly at the airport info desk—efficient, no extra loops. From there, the transit into the city via bus and metro was seamless, at least until we hit the pavement. A quick empirical observation for the modern traveler: Prague’s historic cobblestones are the natural enemy of high-end wheeled luggage. My Rimowa and I engaged in a percussive struggle against the uneven stones—a jarring, yet authentic, welcome to the Old World.