People keep asking me which city I’ve visited has been my favorite, and I think I finally have an answer.
Prague was an unreal experience. From the language to the food to the atmosphere, it was like living in a story book for five days. I’m so glad I was able to end my European traveling with this trip, because it was an absolutely magical experience.
After fighting with Orbitz and Swiss Air weeks before our trip, my roommates, Kyla and I all managed to save our flights to Prague and actually make our Thanksgiving trip happen. Kyla, Olivia and I would be flying Swiss from Florence to Zurich, Zurich to Prague; Taylor and Micaela would fly Luftshana from Florence to Frankfurt and then Frankfurt to Prague, and we would all get in within a half-hour of each other.
Super great plan until Micaela and Taylor’s flight got delayed, causing them to miss their connecting flight, and therefore be stuck in Frankfurt for five hours until the next flight to Prague. Can’t anything ever go right when we travel?!
Kyla’s uncle lives in Prague and was our taximan/tour guide for our trip, arranging our pickup and hotel stay, which was awesome. We stayed at a cute villa run by an artist in Prague 6, about a 20 minute walk to Old Town or the Castle. A good thing considering all the food and beer we would consume during our stay. I honestly don’t think I had a single glass of water the entire stay.
Kyla, Olivia and I were treated to a traditional Czech meal of goulash and Pilsner that Kyla’s uncle rattled off in perfect Czech, which is such a confusing language. The only word I know how to say after this trip is “Ahoj!” (hi) and that’s only because it’s really fun to say.
After dinner, in which we had “so much beer because we were so upset” about Taylor and Micaela, forcing them to get a taxi to our hotel, Kyla’s cousin took us to one of his favorite local cafes. 18 years old, he goes to the British school, so it was hilarious hearing him jump back and forth between perfect English and Czech as he chatted with us and his friends that tagged along. They all noted how Slovak I looked, which my grandparents will find hilarious when I get the chance to tell them.
Going on that note, I let my roots guide me on this trip, which is the only way I can justify how I ate kielbasy twice in two days, when I despise sausage. Basically, it was Oktoberfest all over again. Except, I stayed away from the gingerbread ornaments this time around.