Still on Our Honeymoon... Prague, Day 4 (Petrin Hill, Charles Bridge, Municipal House, St. Nicholas)

My yin and I started our final day in Prague by crossing the Vlatava once more for a trek up Petrin Hill, which like Prague Castle the day before, rises high above the city. Before hiking the half mile or so up the hill, we stopped at a small in café in the Malá Strana ("Lesser Town") to enjoy what ended up being a so-so croissant and excellent mélange. As we savored our coffee, my yin and I took amusement in watching the shop owner cajole her 4 year-old grandson into eating a plain croissant instead of chocolate. Although we didn't have a clue as to what she was saying, it was obvious that she cared for him deeply. The boy's parents were outside on the sidewalk, and it was nice to see the entire family gathered together in their shop on a Saturday morning. Since I already felt like a bit of an interloper, I decided not to take a picture:

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Anyway, from there my yin and I headed across the street to a nearby park where the funicular carried people up the steep hill to the observation tower on top, which was built after the Czech delegation returned from the 1889 World’s Fair in Paris.  Taken by Mr. Eiffel’s tower, they decided to erect a very similar, albeit much smaller, version atop Petrin Hill. But, since both my yin and I have been atop the actual Eiffel Tower, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a long line and walking up 300+ steps seemed somewhat unappealing. Instead, we decided to go to the mirror maze:

Which culminated with this diorama memorializing the defeat of the Swedes at the foot of the Charles Bridge by the Jesuit army back in 1648:

And also included fun house digestif:

One important thing to remember about Europe is its distinct lack of free public restrooms. One must pay an attendant at virtually every location, which puts its overall convenience factor slightly above New York, and far below every other city in America. I was happy to pay this time, however, largely because it had the single greatest urinal I have ever seen.  Luckily, I had a moment alone, or else I would have looked like a real weirdo whipping out the camera: 

Bladders empty, my yin and I came down a different side of the hill, facing Prague Castle rather than the river. We wound our way through the woods into a small valley, only to stumble onto what we later learned was the German Embassy:

The best thing about this building, even better than the landscaping, was the groovy car sculpture that stood watch over the garden:

There is a whole line of embassy buildings between Prague Castle and Petrin Hill, and my yin and I walked down the cobblestone streets back towards the Charles Bridge, which was jam-packed with pedestrians on a sunny Saturday. We stopped twice on our way across the river, once to peruse some handmade copper necklaces, and a second time to take this photo of my two favorite people:

Eventually we made our way to Náměsti Republiky (“Republic Square”), where we sat down for Chinese – always a good option for a vegetarian abroad (especially when the menu includes pictures). Unfortunately, it was a smoking restaurant so we sat outside, making it halfway through our meal before the German and Chinese business men at the adjacent table pulled out a pack of cigarettes. We sped through the rest of our meal and made our way across the square to Municipal Hall, whose exterior was sadly under renovation:

As a huge fan of turn of the century art, this was one of the highlights of Prague for me – a gigantic art nouveau masterpiece, dedicated to civic life in general, and to the performing arts specifically. Among other things, art nouveau considered nature holy, and throughout the building we saw proof of this in everything from the ladybugs on the walls:

To the monkeys over the doors:

To the tile mural in the downstairs restaurant that celebrated the bucolic, hard-working life of the peasantry:

This was one of the places on our vacation that allowed visitors only if accompanied by a guide, and after some discussion, my yin and I decided (actually, mainly me), that it was worth the money. I have a fascination with this time in history (1890-1914), when there was an unbridled enthusiasm for the future and a sincere belief that humanity was finally on its way towards an ever-improving future.  All of this optimism, especially in Europe, would be soon destroyed by the First World War, and it is this contradiction – irrational exuberance (a hundred years before Greenspan coined the term) coupled with impending doom – that never ceases to stoke my imagination.

That being said, the building is amazing even without the inflated pretense of hindsight. I submit for your inspection, the Smetana Hall, named after the composer whose music became synonymous with the idea of Czech independence in the 19th Century:

The downstairs lobby, which looked like the brainchild of Jack Torrance and Jay Gatsby:

A dining room with killer coffee bar:

Some chandeliers in clear:

 And others in blue:

One of my favorites, though, was the attention placed on small details, such as this bench post. Although the guide didn’t stop to point it out, this carving certainly does tape into the art nouveau sensibility of a verdant natural world:

Another highlight was this room and the adjoining balcony from which Václav Havel announced the formation of the Czech Republic to the crowds gathered in Náměsti Republiky after the fall of the Soviet Union:

The ceiling in this room was covered by images depicting the history and pride of the Czech people:

 And include contributions from Gustav Klimt, who would prove to be ubiquitous during the first two-thirds of our trip:

From here, my yin and I made our way back across the Charles once more, arriving at St. Nicholas Cathedral, which gives nightly concerts. We were treated to an hour’s worth of organ, oboe, and voice, all while taking in the beautifully, obscenely ornate altar:

And gazing upwards at the fresco on the ceiling that manages to melt away seamlessly into the structural supports in typical Baroque trompe l’oeil fashion:

To close out our final night in Prague, we headed to Lehka Hlava , a vegetarian restaurant nestled between Nove and Stare Mesto. It was a lovely restaurant with a less than lovely server, and based on the overall vibe of the place, it could have been located in any hipster neighborhood in Western Europe or the United States.  I initially found this somewhat curious, but in retrospect I suppose it wasn’t that surprising at all – they call hipsters “bohemian” for reason. Most importantly, though, the food was excellent, demonstrated admirably by this baked brie entrée:

My yin and I returned to our hotel, packed our things, and said a final thank you to the city.