Prague is lousy with history. And yes, history can be boring. History can be just a tortured list of names and dates. But, history can also be about stories. And stories are essential, our brains are hardwired to accept and are programmed to receive stories. Most guide books will tell you that Prague is ‘the city of a hundred spires’ which frankly sounds dull as shit. Now ‘the city of a thousand stories’ that’s where I want to spend a weekend.

Speaking of which, let me tell you a story. It’s late one night ten years ago, in one of the numerous Irish themed bars that, back then, must have littered the winding medieval streets like crushed coke cans. Our hero, for as we shall later find out a hero most certainly he is, Johnny Touristson was mooning a passing local. Please don’t judge Johnny too harshly, if he had chosen to abstain from mooning the local his arse would have been the only one in the room encased in trouser. And beside mooning the locals was something you just did ten years ago in Prague. Fate though is a cruel bitch at the best of times and Johnny fell, banging his exposed buttocks on the rough table. This was painful enough but johnny also received a splinter the size of the devils thumb; right in the ring.

Embarrassed and uncomfortable Johnny does something unheard of – he goes to bed early. This is truly a brave act because back then amongst the stag dos and business trips, going to bed early and relatively sober is an act so unmanly he may as well of fellated the bar staff, not forgetting the balls, in front of the whole room of roaring drunk football-shirted English stags.

Johnny waddles back in shame and no little pain, shunning the strip clubs and weaving between the herds of chanting British thugs. After some home surgery with duty-free vodka and the complementary toothbrush Johnny removes a splinter of wood he would later refer to as ‘Odin’s toothpick’. Because of Johnny’s heroic early night he wakes relatively early and because his friends only arrived back a few hours ago chanting ‘DAVE FINGERED A STRIPPER’  he set off to explore Prague on his own. The shame of last night kept him away from the the bars, strip clubs and bungee jump salesmen. And instead he wandered into art galleries, the lack of hangover meant he could look up with clear eyes and take in the amazing hodge-podge of architecture and with the money saved and lack of sickness he ate the food.

At first glance Johhny could be forgiven for dismissing Prague as just another ex-soviet eastern European shit hole. There is bad graffiti everywhere, run down shop fronts, grubby hand written signs and smoking is not only allowed indoors but encouraged, which nowadays positively seems barbaric. But the dirt and grime is just one layer, scratch the surface just a little and the rewards are amazing and spiritually more refreshing than the square palaces of glass and concrete we seem to have over here.

Johnny found the city is perfect to walk around, which is handy because the tram system and underground are reliable but frankly incomprehensible. Like any old city, it grew organically and haphazardly and its a pleasant experience just to wander around following the old cobbled streets just to see what happens next, doing what the French situationist called dérive. Every architectural style and art movement is reflected in the buildings and décor, not so much looking like a fairytale, but a hundred fairy tales all at once.

Old town is old, to give you an idea, when johnny asked how old the New Town was our guide replied “600 years”. The palace complex is beautiful and littered with statues, everyone of these have not only history attached, but stories, my advice, and Johnny would surly agree, would be to find either a really good tour guide or take a decent book and discover the place for yourself. The market square is a massive draw for tourists and during the winter months home to a market that, yes, is straight from the top of a chocolate box but is also authentic and real, a blacksmith will adjust for you his hand made jewellery, you can eat stews of a meat you would rather not know the name of, and see real handmade crafts that date back a hundred or so years. This is in direct contrast to the thousand or so little tourist gift shops that blight the area like acne on a supermodel, avoid these shops they sell mass produced crap at extortionate prices.. But, even thay are just another layer in a city of layers and a chapter in a city of stories

Johnny spread the word and ten years later the stag trade is all but dead. It helps that the prices have levelled up to the same as any European capital city and not 50p a pint.

Falling in love with Prague is like falling in love with a abused spouse, there’s not a lot of outwards signals but every so often you’ll see the bruises. A strip club, a Irish pub or even the odd sign reminding tourists that the police are armed and have no sense of humour. You end up not only respecting her for what shes been through and survived but loving her a little more for it.

And I did fall in love with Prague, and like any good relationship I can see its flaws, but accept them and it reveals good points. Of which there are many; like the architecture, the pace, and the stories.

Thank you Johnny.

THE FACTS

- Prague is, in places, as close to historic as you can get outside of a theme park, this means most of the streets are cobbled and uneven, which even to the strong and hardy can be hard work.

- The exchange rate to Euros at the moment is not a preferable as it could be, and most of the time you get looked at like a raping Russian soldier should you ask to pay in the Euro. The local currency is the Koruna and accepted everywhere the Czechs generally have a really sarcastic dry humour and don’t smile a lot, even though they’re having a good time. Just because your new Czech isn’t smiling doesn’t they’re not having a good time. While I was there I was taken to dinner in a typical Czech restaurant that to my eyes looked like a particularly harrowing Alan Bennett play – this is how they cut loose.

- I was offered drugs by strangers every time I went into a public place; to be fair I would pick me out of a crowd too. I wouldn’t trust these guys and if you do I suppose you kinda deserve everything you get.

- The beer can be a little expensive but also deceptively strong, on the first night we got so drunk that at least four intelligent journalists got flummoxed by a door.

GETTING THERE
During winter, bmibaby will fly from Birmingham International Airport to Prague up to 4 times a week on Thursday, Friday, Sunday and Monday.
Fares start from just £19.99 including taxes and charges.
The airline also flies from Birmingham to: Alicante, Amsterdam, Barcelona, Belfast International, Edinburgh, Faro, Geneva, Glasgow, Ireland West Knock, Malaga, Murcia, Nice and Palma.
Please visit www.bmibaby.com for more information.

Words: Danny Smith
Photographs: Michael Kitromiildes (flickr.com/mikegk)