From Vltava to Danube
Flying~~flying~~
The task of the first day was to transport myself from Asia to Europe.
The plane was at 10:10, so I arrived at the airport early at eight, went through the usual procedures, passed customs and browsed the duty-free shops.
While waiting in line to board, I was surprised to find that several foreigners in front of me were holding Chinese passports. Are Chinese citizens so popular now?
Looking more carefully, besides the Chinese passports, I also saw adoption certificates, so I guessed it was a tour group coming to China for sightseeing and adopting children.
KLM's 747 wasn't great; it didn't even have a small TV.
The flight time from Shanghai to Amsterdam was 11 hours, which made my skin crawl. Before this, my longest flight was to Southeast Asia, about four or five hours.
To pass the long, boring time, I brought a book. Actually, every time I travel, I pretend to bring a printed novel, but usually I only read two or three pages and bring the rest back untouched. This time, I only read the first chapter—more precisely, the word "Chapter 1" on the first page.
I didn't sleep much either because it was too noisy. Remember the adoption tour group? Adopted children, their own children—a bunch of kids made a racket. The little ones cried desperately, perhaps reluctant to leave the embrace of their motherland. The older ones ran around chasing each other...
I dozed off a little while wearing an eye mask, but because I was afraid of scaring others, I covered my head with a blanket. I was told that Little F once pulled it down to see what was going on.
After the plane leveled off, I started waiting for food and drink. I basically drank only cold boiled water the whole time. Since I consumed so much, the flight attendant suggested I get water from the drinking tap near the restroom. Passengers in the back often saw a Chinese woman holding a cup, monopolizing the tap, drinking water like crazy.
The airline meal was provided by South Beauty (Qiao Jiang Nan). Air France acquired KLM, so they also use South Beauty.
There was a choice of Chinese-style rice or Western-style pasta. The main course was chicken in both, with chicken as a side dish. Was it good? If a Chinese restaurant like South Beauty makes Italian pasta, how much can you expect from the taste? Large chunks of chicken breast, bland, chewing like wax. Strangely, their pasta tasted better than the rice.
Snacks included a choice of Nissin cup noodles or Wall's ice cream. When the cup noodles were brought out, the whole cabin was filled with the aroma of fried noodle cakes and MSG.
About an hour before landing, they served a light meal: a bowl of tomato soup that tasted strange but wasn't bad, a thin noodle salad with two weird packets of topping, and a pastry that looked cloyingly sweet.
After wiping my mouth, the plane landed smoothly at Amsterdam Schiphol Airport.
Exiting the cabin, I felt the cold wind of Europa in the jet bridge. It was very cold...
Schiphol is apparently the fourth largest airport in Europe. Walking in, it was indeed huge. First, we had to queue for security. I put my bag into the X-ray machine, then remembered I forgot to empty the water from my bottle. Sure enough, the security lady pulled out my bag and asked if she could check it. She carefully unscrewed the bottle, cautiously poured out the water, shook it dry, and returned the bottle to me.
Then we went through customs and had to answer a bunch of questions. I was traveling with my mom. The handsome customs officer asked where I was going and what relation my mom was to me. Finally, he said, "HAVE A NICE TRIP," and stamped our passports with entry stamps.
From that moment on, I was inside the EU~~~
As soon as I entered, I saw a Starbucks. I checked the price of a caramel Frappuccino: 5.4 euros for a large. I sighed to my mom, "Socialism is still better."
Both sides of the airport were lined with duty-free shops, making my heart race. I checked prices and decided to buy what I liked on the return trip.
We had a 3.5-hour layover, so I walked around and looked at things, and it passed quickly.
The connecting flight from Amsterdam to Prague was on Czech Airlines.
Takeoff was at 17:25, which was already past 1 a.m. Beijing time. As soon as I got on the plane, I couldn't hold on any longer and started dozing off.
Unbearable Weight
After exiting the airport, Little F first found a currency exchange to get some money for tickets. We each bought a 26 KC ticket to take bus 100 and then transfer to the metro.
Czech public transport has three types: buses, trams, and the metro, all using the same ticket.
An 18 KC ticket allows you to ride a bus or tram for 20 minutes; if you take the metro, you can ride 5 stops within 30 minutes.
A 26 KC ticket allows unlimited travel for 75 minutes.
A 100 KC ticket is valid for 24 hours, a 330 KC ticket for 72 hours, and a 500 KC ticket for 120 hours.
See the problem? With the Europeans' terrible math skills, I wonder if anyone would buy the 330 KC ticket.
The bus stop was easy to find—just a short walk to the right from the terminal. The bus had a special luggage compartment. Struggling to haul our luggage on board, I awkwardly tried the ticket validator and stamped the ticket upside down.
The road conditions were good; bus 100 drove like it was flying, taking turns without braking and pressing the accelerator.
At the terminal, we transferred to the yellow metro line at Zličín station. According to the guide, we got off at Národní třída, and not far from there was our accommodation, Chili.
As legend has it, the Prague metro is built deep underground. The long escalators are like a grumpy old man, impatiently carrying people up here and down there. They creaked and groaned due to their age.
The metro stations were beautiful. Over the next few days, I saw that each station had a different design style. The train cars were a bit narrower than those in Shanghai.
Interestingly, there was a button on the door. The doors didn't open automatically when the train stopped; you had to press the button to open them, both when getting on and off. At first, I stood at the door awkwardly, thinking the Prague metro was terribly slow to react. The guy behind me couldn't stand it and pushed the button for me to open the door, or I would have missed my stop.
After getting out of the metro, we wanted to ask for directions, but it was late at night and the streets of Prague were deserted... We finally found a lady, but she gave us directions that took us on a detour. Still, I have to thank her; without her, we wouldn't have known where to go.
I'd like to introduce the two suitcases I brought this time. One is my usual companion that I can pull or drag easily, and I gave it to my mom.
The other is one my dad bought over ten years ago. That old relic is huge and of good quality, but the design is problematic—it has no handle.
The roads in Prague are no ordinary roads; they are made of large cobblestones. The suitcase rattled loudly as I pulled it, and I kept worrying that it might break down halfway.
My suitcase contained five big bottles of Nongfu Spring water, weighing at least ten kilos. With all my might, pushing and lifting, I managed to get it to our accommodation. I was extremely glad I had brought gloves, or my palms would have been raw.
After all that effort, despite the cold wind of Europa at night, I actually broke a light sweat.
The next day, my arms were half-crippled. So I silently vowed: If I ever bring that suitcase again, I'm a pig!!!
The room rate at Chili was very cheap. We booked a four-bed room with shared bathroom and common living room for three nights, a total of 162 euros, which was 13.5 euros per person per night. But the accommodation conditions were also very spartan.
It was a bare-walled room. When we opened the door, there were only four beds and a small cabinet—nothing else...
The living room had a kitchen with a small refrigerator, a gas stove, and basic pots and pans. If you wanted to save money, you could buy ingredients and cook your own meals.
As someone with a peculiar obsession with washing my hair, even though I was half-dead, I insisted on washing it before climbing into bed and falling asleep quickly.
Early Birds
We woke up very early that day, leaving with faces that looked like we hadn't slept enough.
Chili was in a good location; after a few turns, we reached the main road.
The sky wasn't fully light yet. There were few cars and few people on the road, just our group of a few walking foolishly.
For a moment, I felt like I was back on the Bund—European-style buildings on one side, water on the other.
Across the street was Prague's mother river, the Vltava.
I had naively thought that a river worthy of the name "Vltava" would be a vast, surging, majestic river.
But surprisingly, it was narrower than I expected, gentle, quiet, and flowing slowly.
Looking up at the Bohemian sky—translucent blue, the faint light of dawn, crisscrossing overhead wires.
The streets were still slightly wet from last night's rain, reflecting the dim yellow light of street lamps that were still on.
Tracks were embedded in the middle of the street, and occasionally an extra-long tram passed by.
When we reached Charles Bridge, Mr. Sun finally showed his face.
Golden morning light poured onto the quiet Vltava River, and the houses on the bank put on a coat of warm light gold.
The autumn leaves on the roadside became even yellower and more vibrant, shining brilliantly with a gentle breeze.
In the distance, I could see the towering St. Vitus Cathedral on the other side. Of course, at that time I didn't know it was St. Vitus.
Charles Bridge is the first bridge built over the Vltava River by the people of Prague, with a history of 650 years, a typical Gothic structure.
It is a symbol of Prague. If you haven't been to Charles Bridge, don't tell anyone you've been to Prague.
This oldest and longest bridge in Europe has 30 statues of saints, all masterpieces of Czech Baroque art from the 17th–18th centuries, known as the "Open-air Baroque Sculpture Gallery of Europe."
But now most of the statues on the bridge are replicas; the originals are kept in museums.
The 8th statue on the right side, St. John of Nepomuk, is the guardian of Charles Bridge. The golden cross in the railing marks the spot where St. John was thrown off the bridge.
When we arrived, half of the bridge was under repair, so we didn't see the full view, nor did we see the legendary old man with his accordion. What a pity.
After crossing the bridge, we went from the Old Town, where we were staying, to the Castle District.
Following the recommendation of the Lonely Planet guide, we found Bohemia Bagel at the foot of the bridge for breakfast.
A hot toasted bagel with bacon, cheese, and eggs, paired with a cappuccino with thick foam.
The bagel had a crispy surface and a chewy, firm texture—very delicious.
The extravagant breakfast cost 55 crowns~~~
After breakfast, we continued towards the Castle District, walking up a long uphill road.
The road surface was paved with uneven cobblestones, and on both sides were Gothic and Baroque buildings.
Various small shops, hotels, and restaurants lined one after another.
We exchanged some money at a currency exchange. Holding large-denomination crowns in hand gave a sense of security.
On the second floor of one shop, the window was full of bright pink flowers, matching the shop's same-colored sign. I thought, "When I get home, I'll plant flowers in my window too!" But then I thought again, "Forget it, why would I waste flowers..."
We stumbled upon the Černín Palace (Sternberg Palace), which houses the Czech Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Opposite it was the Loreta Church.
White walls and bell tower trimmed with gold, brick-red roofs and verdigris onion domes—everything was perfectly harmonious~~~
It is said that at every hour, the 27 bells of various sizes in the bell tower play the beautiful "Song of Mary," resounding throughout Prague Castle.
Following the map, asking for directions three times, and making two wrong turns, we finally arrived at the famous St. Vitus Cathedral.
My impression of cathedrals was limited to small ones in Shanghai, and the largest one there, Xujiahui Cathedral, I had only glanced at twice.
So when I stood before St. Vitus for the first time, looking up at it, I was stunned—my jaw dropped.
When it was first built, it might have been a bright beige; time has stained it with a grayish-black mark.
Its two spires, reaching 97 meters high, point straight into the sky, with intricate carvings adorning the outer walls.
Gothic flying buttresses, the four prominent arched apse vaults—all are magnificent and breathtaking.
On both sides of the nave are windows of various shapes, with colorful stained glass depicting Bible stories.
The cathedral houses the crowns and scepters used by Czech kings since the 14th century, as well as statues and paintings of Czech kings throughout history.
On the right side of the nave is the most famous exhibit of St. Vitus: the silver sarcophagus of St. John of Nepomuk, the same one who was thrown off Charles Bridge.
After coming out, we walked around the cathedral—part of it was under repair... I don't know why, but most of the sights on this trip were being renovated, not showing me much favor.
We saw the Golden Gate, which was originally the main entrance, with a priceless golden mosaic of the Last Judgment.
High on the gate is a large bell called Zikmund, the largest bell in all of Prague, said to be visible from anywhere in the city; if it is broken, it is an omen of dark times.
We also visited the Old Royal Palace next to the cathedral. Well, if I hadn't been told, I wouldn't have known it was a palace—it was so shabby...
When we came out of the cathedral, the sky had become overcast, and the sun shyly hid behind thick clouds.
Looking down from the castle hill, we saw a sea of red roofs of Bohemia, dotted with occasional cupolas of verdigris.
Looking farther, we could see the Vltava River winding through the city.
St. George's Basilica is behind St. Vitus, a lovely brick-red building, square and solid, like made of building blocks, with two white towers behind.
I went inside for a quick look and came out; I really couldn't understand it.
Golden Lane is to the left of St. Vitus. It got its name because many alchemists who worked for the king once lived here.
The guidebook said this lane is very narrow, only wide enough for two or three people to walk side by side. After seeing it in person, I felt that European body sizes are beyond my reach.
The rooms in the lane are now rented out to shops selling crafts, souvenirs, a small tavern, and an exhibition hall.
Famous No. 22 is now a museum dedicated to Franz Kafka.
After leaving the lane, there was a small square. We saw a toy museum and walked up, but when they asked for an entrance fee, we immediately chickened out and turned back.
On the second floor landing, there was a large display window showcasing the first generation of Barbie in a striped swimsuit. I was very envious of a complete set of kitchen toys for playing house...
When we came out, it was past one in the afternoon. We were all starving. To save time and money, we bought hot dogs and drinks at a roadside kiosk.
We sat on a bench in a small garden at the foot of the hill, munching in the wind of Bohemia... It was a very cold meal.
After exiting the small garden, we were on a main road. Relying on my GPS-like sense of direction, I quickly found the metro station.
We got off at the Old Town station. It was very lively; crowds of people of different skin colors moved among the old buildings. I had another illusion of being on the Bund, walking through the small streets perpendicular to the Huangpu River.
There were many glass and crystal shops along the street. Bohemian crystal glittered dazzlingly in the windows. I went in to look, but the prices weren't cheap. Besides, I'm not into that, so I didn't buy anything.
Passing through, we arrived at the famous Old Town Square. First, I saw the Astronomical Clock on the southern side of the town hall.
It was built in 1410. Craftsmen 600 years ago manually created this huge machine. I was amazed again...
The front of the astronomical clock has two large round dials, inlaid with gold.
The upper dial has the outermost ring showing Bohemian time using medieval Arabic numerals (no wonder I couldn't read it well), and the second ring shows the 24-hour time.
Blue represents daytime, orange represents night, and a small circle indicates the position of the sun in the zodiac, so it can correctly simulate the movement of celestial bodies, the sun, and the moon.
The lower dial is a circular calendar. In the center is the coat of arms of the Old Town. The dial is painted with scenes of peasants' life and work representing the 12 months. The inner ring has the names of the 12 zodiac signs.
It is not just an accurate timepiece but also a great work of art, representing the advanced technology and civilization of Prague at that time.
To the right of the dial are Death and a musician holding a lute; to the left are Vanity looking into a mirror and a miser clutching a money bag.
Every hour, Death turns an hourglass and pulls the bell rope to ring the bells, at which point two small windows above the dial open.
The 12 apostles of Jesus appear one by one and say hello. Interestingly, after 11 apostles have passed, the puppet of Judas is deliberately left outside the window as punishment for his betrayal.
At the same time, the figurines on the sides—Vanity, Greed, the Turk, and Death—also move.
We arrived near the top of the hour. The space in front of the astronomical clock was packed with people. Being short made it painful; there was no chance to take photos. I was afraid that if the crowd pushed, I would be buried.
Looking up at the clock tower, it was also crowded with people. We looked up, they looked down—everyone clicking away with their cameras. Very interesting.
When the hour passed, the crowd magically dispersed in an instant. Then I could slowly take two full shots of the clock and pose for photos myself.
Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate. A light rain began to fall, and the sky grew darker. The photos turned out far from ideal.
Just then, a horse-drawn carriage turned the corner. I was so excited that I ran after it to take pictures. I think Fish even fell down.
Only in the following days did I realize how naive we were—you can see these carriages anywhere on the street...
In the center of the square stands a massive statue of Jan Hus—or more precisely, Hus and his friends.
This man had a profound influence on European religion and was considered the spiritual leader of the Reformation by Martin Luther.
To commemorate this national hero, Czech sculptor František Bílek (actually Ladislav Šaloun) created this huge statue in 1915, the 500th anniversary of Hus's martyrdom.
It became a symbol of the Czech people's perseverance for truth and justice and resistance against foreign invaders. Does it remind you of the Monument to the People's Heroes?
On the right side is the black Týn Church with its twin spires. Legend has it that it is the Devil's Church~~~
In a cream-colored building on the edge, there were exhibition halls for Mucha and Dalí.
Actually, I'm not very familiar with Mucha, but his paintings make me feel a kind of girl's innocence—weird...
I had planned to go into the Dalí exhibition, but they asked for a ticket of over 200 crowns, which scared me away. Very chicken again.
Around the square are open-air cafes. If it were a sunny afternoon, sitting at one with a coffee, sipping slowly, reading a book, thinking about things, or doing nothing at all, watching the bustling crowds...
How vulgar, how petty bourgeois!
For dinner, we found the Good Soldier Švejk restaurant near Chili.
The decoration was interesting: a bicycle hung from the ceiling, a cleaver stuck in the wall.
Czech specialties are pork knee and dumplings.
The pork knee was served very generously—not on a plate but on a cutting board, with two serrated knives stuck into the golden roasted knee.
Dumplings (knedlíky) are translated as "dumplings," but what came out had no relation to dumplings at all.
In fact, they were slices of bread that were like an under-proofed dough—stiff and rubbery, as if it had risen badly and couldn't be redeemed.
Each dish came with four or five slices. You could eat them plain, dip them in sauce, or wrap them around food—anyway you want. In short, they were very bad.
After dinner, we went to Tesco across the street to stock up on breakfast. Anyone who has traveled with me knows I have an abnormal, obsessive passion for supermarkets.
Everywhere I go, the first thing I do is find the supermarkets and convenience stores.
We bought yogurt, fruit, and bread, taking twice as long as usual.
My mom and I kept calculating how much this cost in RMB, how much a similar product costs in Shanghai, and the difference.
Then we concluded that socialist life is very harmonious......
We walked back along the same nightmare road from the night before. This time we didn't take a detour, and we were back at Chili in no time.
I showered, packed my things for the next day, then went to the front desk to ask for the last spare blanket.
I got into bed and fell asleep soon after......
