Still on Our Honeymoon... Prague, Day 1 (Arrival, Vysehrad)

My yin and I arrived in Prague on a sunny Wednesday morning, breezing past a customs officer who didn't so much as look up from his desk before waving us through. We had managed to sleep most of the flight from New York, and we walked outside to find the most welcoming terminal I've ever seen:

We hopped on the bus alongside a gallery owner from Manhattan, who was presumably on her way to meet a Czech artist she represented back in the States. A special kindness sometimes exists between strangers in strange lands, and the woman kindly gave my yin and I a brief overview of the route and transfers required to take us in to the city. Her directions were impeccable, and after transferring from the bus to the metro to a second metro, we found ourselves in Prague's famously curvy streets:

And walked down from I.P. Pavlova to our hotel (a boutique hotel to be exact, whatever that means), which was neatly tucked on a side street off of Ječná:

The place was small, only 8 rooms, and had a vibe halfway between a typical tourist-oriented hotel (flat screen TVs, good water pressure, king-size bed) and backpack-oriented hostel (communal DYI coffee area, lending library, etc.). What struck me most, though, was the view of the building across the courtyard, which looked like a plate from a photography textbook demonstrating composition:

I found this time and time again throughout our time in Prague, which is easily one of the most picturesque cities I've ever seen. The architecture includes copious examples of gothic, baroque, neoclassical, cubist, and contemporary design, but my favorite was the art nouveau buildings and adornments that are scattered throughout the city. Holding up balconies:

 Over doorways:

In the graveyards:

From the rooftops:
 

And on the sides of buildings:

That were even more lovely at night: 

Anyway, this first day we set out for Vysehrad, which is a hilly area south of Nové Město ("New Town") where our hotel was located. My yin and I wanted to be out in the sun and get some exercise to help acclimate us to the time change and couldn't think of a better way to do so than by taking a walk by the river and up the hill so we could get an overview of the city. Along the way, we encountered a building that I had wanted to see for years, the Frank Gehry-designed "Dancing House" aka "Fred and Ginger":

Once we made it up the hill, we were greeted by this friendly sculpture:

This sort of religious iconography greeted us everywhere we went throughout central Europe, and although the people themselves aren't particularly religious, you could still feel the weight of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation and Hussite Wars and every other religious war this side of Constantinople weighing down like an invisible down blanket. There are reminders of religion and violence and religious violence everywhere, and while it was beautiful in its own way, it was also a little morbid.  All I could think to myself was how a thousand years of crucified saviors and pin cushion cherubs could scar anyone. I pondered these thoughts in the Vysehrad Cemetary, along with my dead friend Antonin Dvorak:

My yin, on the other hand, was not nearly so morose and simply enjoyed the view of Vltava:

By nightfall we were both tired, but wanted to go down and see the Charles Bridge (Karluv Most), which was the only bridge across the Vltava from the early 15th Century until the mid-19th Century. Prague Castle, Malá Strana ("Lesser Quarter"), and Petrin Hill are on the western side, while Staré Město ("Old Town"), Nové Město, and Josefov (the Jewish Quarter) lay on the eastern side. The Charles Bridge is adorned with more than a dozen statues depicted largely religious figures, and on the Staré Město side is a giant statue of its namesake King Charles IV:

Today the Charles is a pedestrian bridge connected Malá Strana with Stare Město, dominated by tourists, kiosks, and sketch artists by day, and providing stunning views of Prague Castle at night: