Here in the land of fairy tales,
cubist lightposts and Kafka surrealism,
every saint has its magic,
every cobblestone tells a story,
every myth has its rebuttal

By Lori Hall Steele
PRAGUE, Czech Republic — It’s midnight on the Charles Bridge and tonight, like every night, Prague Castle gleams on a nearby hill, the Vlatava River’s waters rush northwest in a silvery lullaby, and a crowd is gathered at the 16th statue, waiting to press their palms on a saint, close their eyes and whisper the wish of a lifetime.
      There are places for lesser wishes down the 700-year-old pedestrian-only bridge, among other ghastly legends and different gold-haloed saints, but here at the feet of St. John of Nepomuk -- patron of confessors -- people make The Big One. That one holy utterance that could elbow fate.
      Except some people are pressing palms to a bronze-relief dog. They’re closing their eyes and praying their prayers with the same gravity. Are they petitioning the wrong god?
      Who knows?
      Here in the land of fairy tales, cubist lightposts and Kafka surrealism, every saint has its magic, every cobblestone tells a story, every myth has its rebuttal. It is a country with fluid boundaries. A place where history has been whited out then recalled and where streets have been unnamed and renamed so often -- to trick invading tanks, to embrace communism, to forget the Russians -- that taxi drivers occasionally still get confused.
      Prague’s charms earned it the moniker “Paris of the ‘90s” and, early in the decade -- after 1989’s Velvet Revolution, the peaceful break from communism -- more than 50,000 Americans descended on the capital of Bohemia, lured by cheap rents, old-world architecture and the shabby romance of living behind the former Iron Curtain. Many stayed.
      Tourists have followed in increasing numbers. Some 60 million people now visit Golden Prague annually.
      And no wonder: Praha, as locals call it, is one of the world’s most beautiful cities. The poet Rainer Maria Rilke called the city’s architecture an epic poem. History overlaps on every corner, with gothic, baroque and art nouveau structures commingling along narrow, winding cobblestone streets. The city’s communist-era gray facades are slowly being replaced by buildings painted in pastels from lemon yellow to lime to cotton candy pink.
      The West is creeping in -- much to the delight of some tourists and the disgust of others. Wenceslas Square, the five-block home to protests and public celebrations, now anchors three McDonald’s, two Dunkin’ Donuts and a KFC. This movement toward capitalism also makes it possible for visitors to find Western-style hotel rooms and service.
      But much remains of pre-capitalist days, from surly clerks to reasonable prices. Visitors can still still buy world-renowned Czech Pilsner for less than $1 a pint and experience a world-class symphony for less than $10.
      This is a city at the geographic heart of Europe, tinged with Munich and Vienna, a place unmarred by the 20th-century bombs that desecrated much of the rest of the continent. And there’s no way to really experience the city except to walk.
      Don’t neglect to look down. Each morning, Czech workers begin again the painstaking task of repairing the city’s ancient sidewalks: mosaic designs of chipped stone. The taps echo through Wenceslas Square, Old Town and Mala Strana, the interconnected heart of old Prague.
      Heading from the upscale shops of Wenceslas Square — the Czech Republic’s own Times Square -- it’s easy to get lost in the narrow cobblestone streets of Old Town. Don’t worry. All roads, for the most part, lead to Old Town Square.
      In between are open-air markets hawking wooden toys, clementines and crystal, along with occasional sword swallowers and fire breathers, carts selling -- what else? -- “BOILD” corn on the cob, and leggy locals wearing Juliette Binoche’s wardrobe from “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.” Some things -- like Prague Spring fashion -- are timeless.
      The square itself is so impeccably medieval that it resembles a Disney-set interpretation of Europe World. But make no mistake: Those towering church spires, cobblestones and baroque buildings are the real thing. Nearby, in fact, the Czechs introduced the fine art of defenestration -- tossing political adversaries out of windows -- to the world, way back in 1419.
      Crowds gather in the square to watch the astronomical clock’s hourly performance. As a skeleton (Death) rings a bell, apostles parade past two windows, nodding to the crowd. Rumor has it that the clockmaker who build this mechanical marvel was blinded afterwards so he would never duplicate his work. Is it true? Who knows.
      Old Town itself is a repository of history and tourist shops selling Bohemian crystal, puppets, T-shirts and Soviet-era knockoffs. Prices here are amplified, but still reasonable by U.S. standards, though a five-minute walk away from tourist central can cut the dinner bill in half, at least.
      Connecting Old Town to Mala Strana, the enchanted, mostly residential area at the foot of the castle, is the Charles Bridge. Here, a Left Bank-like assortment of artists sets up daily shop. In mid-bridge are ethereal filtered photos of angels in the architecture. Past the bridge’s 30-some statues, a weathered elderly man often anchors the Mala Strana end of the bridge, yelling down passersby in Czech to buy one of his devil-horned self portraits, painted in Warhol watercolors.
      Tucked beneath Prague’s buildings are jazz clubs in arched stone basements, cozy pubs that serve up beefy gulas and sliced flour dumplings, gilded nightclubs where the Euro-hip drink flaming absinthe in a city that’s been dubbed “Amsterdam East.” Prague’s restaurants are an international smorgasbord serving everything from Italian pastas to Irish stews to Icelandic fish.
      After thousands of Czechs peacefully gathered in Wenceslas Square in 1989 and shook their keys -- unlocking themselves from decades of communist rule -- the new nation swiftly swept away reminders of the Russians. On Letna Hill, where a statue of Stalin once lorded, a giant illuminated metronome ticks, back and forth, beating a forgetful rhythm into each night.
      Prague Castle was opened to the public after 50-some years of Russians lockdown, and now thousands of tourists hike up to the walled mini-city, the world’s largest ancient castle. It is now the Czech Republic’s most visited site.
      Inside the walls are courtyards, royal gardens, a 12th-century palace, the gothic St. Vitus Cathedral and a series of cottages occupied variously by sharpshooters, goldsmiths, squatters and artists, including Franz Kafka. The costume designer for the movie “Amadeus” designed the castle guards’ uniforms.
      And the lights that illuminate the castle each night were a gift, reportedly, from one of President Vaclav Havel’s rock ’n’ roll friends: The Rolling Stones.
      No longer under Russia’s thumb, in a land where a playwright is president, this city of stories has emerged from communism’s cinders and slipped into crystal shoes.

IF YOU GO:
GETTING THERE: Northwest Airlines flies from Detroit to Amsterdam with links to Prague. Connections also are available from airlines flying out of Detroit to various European destinations, including Frankfort, where planes and trains leave daily for Prague. Check for occasional special fares, either directly to Prague or to nearby cities like Vienna, Dresden and Budapest, from which inexpensive connections are often available.
CURRENCY: The Czech currency is the koruna (Kc) or crown, and $1 buys about 39 crowns (check www.oanda.com for daily rates). Prices are still very low in the Prague compared to the United States, but expect to pay more in tourist areas. Currency exchange is available at the airport and throughout the city, but try using centrally located ATMs to avoid fees (though check with your home bank before leaving to find out about transaction fees). One warning: The concept of credit is new to the Czech Republic, and Visas and other credit cards are not accepted at many places, especially restaurants. Many stores in the city center, however, do accept plastic.
LANGUAGE: Prague’s native language is Czech — a dense, consonant-happy tongue that’s difficult to learn. Luckily for newcomers, many people in the city center also speak English and some German. Most centrally located restaurants provide translated menus. The first words you’ll need are “dobry den” (dobree den), which means hello or good day.
WALKING: Prague is a city of hills and cobblestones, so it’s best to prepare your legs a little before going -- taking daily walks, for instance -- to avoid sore calves. Wear sensible shoes.
DOCUMENTS: A passport is required for all U.S. visitors, who may stay up to 30 days.
GUIDE BOOKS: Lonely Planet’s “Prague” ($14.95) is the bible of guidebooks among U.S. expatriates, valued especially for its comprehensive history section. “Prague and the Best of the Czech Republic” (Frommer’s, $15.99) also includes information on worthwhile day trips from the capital. One warning: Call ahead to verify times listed in guide books. Many businesses in this former communist nation are new, and information can change rapidly.
GETTING AROUND: Most of the Golden City’s prized sights are reachable by foot -- often the best and only method to see some attractions -- and Prague’s easy-to-navigate three-line subway and extensive tram system will take you to most other places. Tickets cost 8 Kc (20 cents) for point-to-point travel or 12 Kc (30 cents) if you switch lines or trams. Tickets are available at all metro stops and some, but not all, tram stations, so stock up if you're planning multiple trips or buy a pass if you're staying more than a week. Don’t risk jumping on a tram without a ticket. Many lines -- especially those in tourist areas -- are heavily policed, and fines are 400 Kc ($10.25).
      Beware of taxis. Deregulation has created astronomical prices among those hailed on the street. Instead, call a reputable firm and a car will be dispatched in minutes. Best bet: Phone AAA at 3311-3311. It’s also safe to hail AAA or ProfiTaxi cabs from the street, though they won’t stop if they’re being dispatched to a call-in customer. Many restaurants will call cabs for you, but be certain to specify AAA or ProfiTaxi, or you could end up paying $20 for what should be a $2.50 fare.
CRIME: Prague is generally safe, but use common sense with belongings to prevent petty theft, especially while using public transportation.
TOURS: The city center is rife with on-street booths offering guided city trips and longer tours for starting at about $10. The largest Czech travel agency, Cedok, is located near Wenceslas Square at Na Prikope 18 (02/2419 7559 or www.cedok.cz. Click on the British flag for an English version.)

Commissioned by the Detroit Free Press