europe | cmr

We had to choose more than one destination, right? I was in Berlin in the summer of 2000. I was well into my "Kafka-thing," creating theories for the sole purpose of somehow including Kafka. I wanted him to be a source in all my papers for the mere pleasure of rereading (this worked very well for Nietszche, I'll have you know). Alas, my vote for a train ride to Prague was outvoted, and instead we were off to Amsterdam to see the coffeeshops and the museums... the latter we really only saw the structures themselves. So I waited for the next vote...

And, boy, was it my lucky day! Dave was all game to go and with the blessing of our dear friends, some who have visited and some who have not, we were on our way. I had vague hopes of seeing Kafka's grave, but really--what was I gonna do there? Say hi? So I just looked at the streets...

PRAGUE | MAY 22 - MAY 25 Prague Prague. Prague. Kafka lived here, you know. The tortured, the sufferer, the "whiner," some say (you know who you are). And despite what comes off in his writing, he was a writer nonetheless. He spoke of Prague as if it were a neighbor, a cat, a being in the sewers and sitting on the light posts. He spoke of the windows out of which he lamented, the women who passed by, the strangeness of the people on streets too familiar. Dave and I went to Prague and we wished we had another week or two or three to stay. Bridges, alleys, streets, food. No matter how many tourists, no matter how many craftsman selling items on the bridge, no matter how many magnet shops and sweatshirts with "Czech me out" written on them, Prague was it's own person. A personality in the shape of a city. I'm going back. See photos by clicking on this small sample, and don't forget to leave comments for me.