A crisp, clear morning. And the perfect time to experience Karlův Most (Charles Bridge). Fittingly, I’d picked up from where I’d left off at Karlovy Lázně the night before. In all their splendour, the twin Catholic churches of St. Francis Of Assisi and St. Salvator effortlessly wiped away the cobwebs, a refreshing palate cleanser for what was to come, but compared to the almost fairytale backdrop of The Old Town Square, these structures seemed rather tame, maybe even an intentional foil to the ominous-looking Old Town Bridge Tower up ahead.
Almost gothic in style, the Bridge Tower dominates the wide, pebbled courtyard, another busy gathering place. It beckons you onward, its jagged spires soaring high into the clouds as you pass underneath its archway. As you emerge out of the shadows, Prague itself opens out before you to muted gasps from the crowds. To the left, an alternative view of Karlovy Lázně and its neighbouring up-market al fresco establishments, almost enviably chic. To the right, the river Vltava sweeps back to the north-east, framed by beautiful hanging gardens and orange rooftops, mistily fading into the distance.
A few steps further and those distant objects focus into view, pretty postcard-perfect bridges span the river either side, a shallow waterfall provides a babbling soundtrack, and up ahead atop its lonely hill, the almost Alcatraz-like walls of Prague Castle peer down upon you, like an emperor surveying their land. Looking back, the journey so far is presented to you in the most elegant of snapshots.
Far from being any old bridge, it now springs into life with an all manner of street theatre, music and art. From the predictable touristy cartoon portraits to virtuoso violinists that demand the attention. A marketplace for artistry and talent in the heart of The Musical City. I stopped to ponder for a moment. This truly was a home to the effortlessly talented. Just like the rock band the night before, everything was a league or two above back home. There, we had Britain’s Got Talent and The X factor. Here, we had a thriving culture of classical music with eager pupils striving for excellence. To attain perfection through diligence in a skill they lived and loved.
And then it hit me again, the magic of Prague, its invisible backbone, a heart of creativity, a love of the arts. It was sprinkled everywhere like golden fairy dust. You couldn’t see it, or touch it, but just like the wind, it was ever-present. Again I went back to how it must have been in the war years. An irresistible force against creativity and individualism. Standing here it was clear who came out the winner, the oppressors didn’t even stand a chance.
The many photo opportunities along the way include statues of Prague’s great and good and it’s here you begin to realise you’re standing on a sadly underwhelming structure. Without the distraction of the entrance, the scenery or the underlying vibes, it starts to look a bit plain-looking. The outer walls are mere breeze blocks with the various street-lamps and statues jarring against the original cobbles. Underneath it all, from where I’m standing, It’s just another ordinary bridge.
Still, as you decline down towards the other side, it’s hard not to get a feeling of your place in the world, as though time stood still for a brief moment. Time passes too quickly, holidays come and go in the blink of an eye. Charles Bridge has a peculiar effect on you, it slows you down and gives you a wide picture of your surroundings, your path behind and before you, not just here, but also as a metaphor to this stage in your life.
I found myself slowing, then stopping, like many others. I had no deadline, no real plan. It didn’t matter about the underwhelming architecture or the tourist trappings. As it turns out, Charles Bridge is just a nice place to be, to reflect, to think. This trump card is more subtle and profound than a show-stopping castle, or a space-age clock, its hidden below the surface of Prague’s most famous landmark, readily available to the average ponderer.
It’s in this moment I found myself falling a little deeper in love with Prague, or at least experienced a stronger connection, a deeper understanding. And it’s that feeling that brought me back time and time again. The Great Bridge’s atmosphere and mood changes with the light, from the exhilaration and clear-headed focus of the morning, through the hustle and bustle of the everyday at noon, to quiet contemplation at dusk. It’s almost a living and breathing entity, and so much more than a mere landmark. It crosses and celebrates Prague’s heart.
Down below you begin to notice the details, numerous islands occupy the river like luxury sail-barges, some featuring various restaurants and other establishments. You strain your eyes to capture a glimpse of the action from your vantage point. Just people making their own stories in the same moment and to the same backdrop as yours.
Snapping out of my daydream, the path ahead seemed a lot more ‘governmental’ than the landmarks behind. These large official-looking buildings seemed drab in comparison, squarer and more business-like, but still historic. Almost like a plainer “Houses of Parliament” jutting out of the surrounding forest.
Finally, the bridge flattens out, merging seamlessly into my new surroundings, the Malá Strana region, which instantly feels more casual and informal to the regality of before, residential even. Instead of landmarks, this side of the river’s watchtower is a welcoming neighbourhood of cafes, restaurants and bars, leading on through its archway towards a historic shopping street.
Leaving the Great bridge behind, It was time to move on through.
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