Visiting the legendary Prague Castle

Prague, Czech Republic

The castle in Prague is one of the country's biggest tourist attractions. I could understand that simply for the breathtaking views it provides of the city (see above). But that being said, it's not really a castle. Let me explain.

When you see the castle from a distance, it looks to be a long row of buildings with a spiky cathedral poking out the top, and that is indeed what it is. I am more accustomed to castles being big stone structures built almost solely for defence, with decoration coming later down the list of priorities. That may be why I initially thought the castle was the cathedral: it's big and stone and more castley than the castle that surrounds it. Yet the castle is not so much a castle in my opinion as an area of buildings used for governing purposes, like a kinda fortified town. Now that's cleared up, and I've used the word "castle" far more than I'd have liked, let's take a look at that cathedral. 

Named after Saint Vitus, the cathedral towers above the surrounding castle and by extension, the city.

Inside, the warm morning light shone through and illuminated floating dust particles. We woke up early in an effort to beat the rush of visitors, and in that regard we succeeded - purchasing tickets was painless and we never had to queue to enter any of the sites. 

Titanic panels of stained glass popped with colour, and even though they were not steeped in centuries of history (designed by prominent artists of the twentieth century), they were striking to behold. She's like a raaaaaaainbow. 

This statue got me siding with the Protestants over the Catholics even more than I already had been in Prague's history lessons. It depicted a man in ridiculously splendiferous robes, kneeling on a tasseled cushion, with his beringed hands clapped before him in prayer. If I was a religious person, I'd say that all you needed is faith. Instead, I say all you need is love. (Dem 60's pop icons be my god, yo.) 

One of the most magnificent sights was that of John of Nepomuk's tomb. He was a saint of Bohemia that was drowned in the Vltava river - somehow they thought it was a good idea to make him patron saint of protection from floods and drowning, which seems contradictory to me. As well as having rich velvet curtains, the tomb and decorations are crafted out of two tonnes of silver. A crowd of photo takers had gathered (among them a couple of touring French priests), but we managed to squeeze past them to see the chapel of Good Guy Václav (aka Wenceslas I), and the chapel of Saint Mary Magdalen. 

On our way to the Old Royal Palace, several soldiers passed us keeping a close eye on the hordes of visitors. It's odd to think that guns and knives may be necessary in such a peaceful place, but when you think of Prague's turbulent history I suppose you never know when things may go awry. 

Once at the palace, we were able to meander through grand rooms. One of my favourites had dozens of coats of arms painted onto the ceiling and walls. The one shown above is Vladislav Hall, where inaugurations are held. 

Along a narrow alleyway are the sixteenth century houses that make up Golden Lane. Originally they were built for members of the castle guard, but over time they came to be largely goldsmiths' homes and shops. In the twentieth century they were frequented by artists and writers, most notably Franz Kafka who stayed with his sister at number twenty-two. Now, several of the buildings are on show to demonstrate what they looked like when lived in once upon a time. This was the house of Matylda Průšová, a fortune teller who set the dinner table each day for her son who was lost on the battlefield of WWII and who herself was killed by the gestapo. 

Pleasantly surprised to find that Daliborka Tower was included for free as part of our tickets, we stared in horror at gruesome torture devices such as the Spanish Boot (so many spikes!). The dead ivy clinging to the windows was pretty spooky too. 

Needing a break from standing up and looking at awesome things, we drank lemonades on a café terrace overlooking the city. I found the composition of the antlers on the wall to be quite attractive. 

We chose to visit the Muzeum Miniatur - a collection of teeny tiny works by Anatoly Konenko, who used to produce tools for microsurgery, but found a more interesting way to use his miniature tools. It was a small museum but entirely worth the 100 Czech korunas (around €3.70). Microscopes were needed to be able to see the detail of each piece. 

The ones I found most amazing were the line of camels in the eye of a needle, the horseshoes on a flea and the Lord's Prayer written along a human hair. 

This bicycle was slightly larger than many other of his crafts, and visible to the naked eye if you squinted. The thick grey line it's attached to is a needle, to give you some sense of scale. An entirely bizarre experience, but one I would choose to have again. 

From the sky scraping spires of Saint Vitus cathedral to the shrunken cyclist's seat, our castle day in the capital was truly Capital, what what ho ho.