Like so
many others, we converge on the old town square to witness the chiming of the
astronomical clock (Orioj). The Orioj, if
description has it right, is 607 years old, chimes on cue and consists of three
main components: the
astronomical dial, representing the position of the sun and moon in the sky; statues of various catholic saints stand on either side of the clock and good old death has
the key role of striking the time. The
history behind Orioj is breath-taking, watching it do its thing on the hour is mind-numbing.
Prague is a bipedalists paradise. Allow your legs to take you on delights that
whet one’s wanderlust: discover Cerny’s world of the bizarre and macabre, the
broken men who stand sentinel like in stages of decomposition at the foot of
Petrin Hill, a kaleidoscope of colour splashes across Lennon’s wall, Apostles crave martyrdom upon Charles Bridge, whilst locks of loved-one seal hearts forever. Names associated with the genocide of Czech
Jews cover every wall of the Pinkas Synagogue and centuries of wisdom lay
asleep in the Jewish graveyard.
Presidents still sit in the heart of Prague Castle, which according to
the Guinness Book of Records is the largest ancient castle in the world; similarly,
the golden lane, like the astronomical clock calls out to unsuspecting tourists.
The Old Town Square ripples with medieval charm and the sound
of horse hooves ring out across the cobblestones; beer stalls erupt on every
corner and the smell of spicy red Prazaka Klobasa invade the senses, whilst being
infused with the delicate charcoal aroma of the traditional trdelnik.
Prague is a wonder to the eye, an assault on the taste buds
and a wandering wanderlusts dream.
