Author: Zi Jing
Our journey begins with the first glimpse of the Astronomical Clock in Prague Square, when the Moon falls on Leo, and on the way back from Budapest to the Astronomical Clock in Prague, when the Moon falls on Sagittarius. The trajectory of the moon lion to the moon Sagittarius has been written in the dark, and it is destined to be a holiday suitable for travel.
Prague is not big, from the new town of the train station to Prague Castle, it is only a 30-minute walk. You can take the subway, but the subway ticketing interface is very unfriendly, only collect coins, and will not find change, the price of 12 crowns must be just right for you.
Charles Bridge is the center of the excursion to Prague. Important sights are scattered along both sides of the bridge. If you choose to cross the bridge from the lively old town on the right bank to enter the castle area on the left bank, your eyes will be unconsciously attracted by the scenery along the road, a glance at the medieval buildings stretching along the Vltava River, a glance at the various sculptures and gate towers at the bridge, and the bustling tourists will take you to the sights of the castle area.
If you choose the subway line a to malostranska, you can feel the autumn fairy tale of the rich Eastern European style as soon as you leave the station. The neat and neat stone road winding upwards, the crisp sound of horse-drawn carriages passing by and kicking and tapping on the stone road, the trams that slowly drive by between light and shadow... What I felt was the morning breeze of early autumn coming through the thin sunlight, and what I saw in my eyes was the freshly yellowed leaves falling to the ground, and everything was as beautiful as crossing the world.
Prague is the largest surviving medieval city. I have had countless fantasies about "medieval towns", but I have been disappointed again and again in the cities of Greece, Italy, and Spain. When I fully accepted the idea that "maybe the so-called Middle Ages and chivalry have disappeared", I unexpectedly met Prague again. Here, once again, my enthusiasm for all my fantasies of medieval castles was ignited.
Whether it is Prague Castle, built condescending on the banks of the Vltava River and surrounded by lush trees; the various spires and towers that are everywhere in the city; or the civilian streets in the Golden Lane with flowers and trees, cottages, and fairy tales; and the terrible and dark execution cellars hidden deep in the castle, hundreds of torture instruments full of iron thorns and the eerie human bone church, all of them arouse the ignorant vision of mysterious medieval Europe in the depths of the mind, making people want to get closer and explore a little more.
In a corner of golden alley, you can see the most complete equipment of medieval knights, fully armed armor lines, from the light version of the civilian knights to the luxurious customization of the nobles engraved with family emblems; all kinds of cold weapons and muskets, brushed against the cold castle wall, quietly telling the years of their battles. When I stop by the workshops of various servant craftsmen who bow their heads and arch their heads, and the alchemist's huts led by the dim corridors, there is always an illusion, as if one turns around and sees a black mage covered in a black cloak, holding a kerosene lamp, with a large gutter nose and long fingernails, who will take a look at me.
I have never seen such a complete and meticulous medieval equipment laid out in any other place, and it is not focused by incandescent lamps in the glass niches of the museum, but in the dim light of the depths of the castle, perfectly integrated with the surroundings, making it impossible to say whether it is these details that decorate the castle, or because of the background of the castle that makes everything seem so real. But whatever the answer is, those distant fantasies about the Middle Ages, all the chivalry about the empty eye, the alchemical astrological magic occult, the terrifying barbed torture devices, the secrets of the deep castle, the moment comes alive before your eyes.
Medieval labels in other cities often can't stand up to closer viewing, and when they get closer, they just feel like a fake for tourists. Prague is very different at this point, when you look at it from a distance, it is very unreal like a model of a fairytale castle, and when you look closely, every pull-line puppet can be moved, not just a decoration.
But even with medieval fantasies aside, the city of Prague is still incredibly beautiful in my eyes.
If you'll take the train out of Prague in the early morning, you'll be amazed to find that along the Vltava River, you'll be amazed by the red-domed pink-walled huts dotted with trees, wrapped in a thick white morning fog, and the fairy tale book scene will stand out in front of you after hours. For a long time I couldn't tell whether the Czech people had copied the scenes in the fairy tales or the cartoonists who had drawn them out of the materials they had drawn here. The only thing that can be known is that there is no such scenery along the way, except in the Czech Republic, whether to Germany, Hungary or even Slovakia.
If you look at Prague Castle at dusk on the right bank of the Charles Bridge, you will see the dim light shining on the river, the castle seems to be embedded in mid-air, and the soft light background light lighting faintly sets off the castle, not dazzling but breathtaking, half hidden and half-present, but it is particularly fascinating.
If you stop at the Charles Bridge or wander the streets of Dr. Wenceslas, letting your eyes wander, you will feel the whole city in the background theme of the medieval castle, the corners and corners are full of lights. Whether it's eye-catching crystal shops, exaggerated puppet houses, or all kinds of street performances, and charcoal stoves set up along the streets roasting oversized elbows... Old-fashioned horse-drawn carriages weave between squares and cities, the flickering lights of the pavilions, the noisy music of the taverns and the crisp clash of glass glasses, the whole city seems to have been enchanted by the elves, frozen in the tunnel of time that has not fully entered the modern era.
If you're like me, you'll linger on the streets in the warm early autumn sunshine, you'll also find that the beauties of Eastern Europe are perhaps the highest in continental Europe; the street performers around Prague Square and Charles Bridge are perhaps the most literary and un-commercial; and the wooden crafts in the window are perhaps the most creative and distinctive. Inadvertently, you will also find that it also has a river and a bridge, like Venice, with two upturned boats walking on the river; it is also colorful, pink, pink, pink, pink and blue, but because of the powder tone, it is not as noisy as Barcelona; its streets and alleys are also like the streets of Rome, standing one statue after another, showing the artists' humanistic feelings. You don't know which corner of the water wheel there is still a shuttle about the little devil, just like you don't know in which puppet shop you will see a witch in a black linen robe, a pointed hat, riding a broom.
However, the beauty of Prague has always been shrouded in a melancholy temperament. As depicted in Kafka's novel The Castle, it is a strange aura that cannot be broken from the outside. This feeling has always surrounded me, until I learned about the history of the Czech Republic, and then I was relieved.
Prague became the capital of the Holy Roman Empire during the reign of Charles IV, achieving a glorious scale that remains to this day, and then became a territory of the Austro-Hungarian Empire under Habsburg rule. Austria had promoted German as the official language of the Czech Republic and banned the speaking of Czech, for which the Czech nobility waged a "fierce" revolt, but it seemed that the Czech nobility's revolt was weak, and the strongest frontal conflict was said to have been only two "thrown out of the window incidents". The subsequent suppression of Austria was extremely tough, and the Czech nobility was ultimately powerless to resist and was defeated. The Czech people once lost the right to learn and teach their mother tongue, and could only stubbornly preserve the traditions and culture of the nation in their daily lives and in music, art and handicrafts. Perhaps in this way as a way to fight against domination, I can only speculate.
This slightly soft revolutionary tradition has been well inherited, and in the recent history of the Czech Republic, whether it is the "Prague Spring" that promotes political democratization or the "Velvet Revolution" that freed itself from the influence of the Soviet Union, just from the name of the revolution, itself is not so intense and thorough.
But now that I am nearly middle-aged, I really can't evaluate whether such a gentle struggle is good or bad. In the course of history, when a nation is faced with the most direct aggression and destruction by foreign nations, is it better to strive to resist and maintain national integrity, or to preserve the productive forces of the people to the greatest extent?
The only thing that can be confirmed is that this spiritual power, in the sculptures of the streets of Prague today, has been preserved intact. On those sculptures, the human eye is blindfolded, the body is wrapped with thorns, and the limbs are twisted and running forward with all their might. Modern art in Prague is not Renaissance humanism, eager to pay homage to the ancient Greek gods, and thus strive to show the most beautiful muscle lines that human beings can have; but as the spirit of postmodern humanism, it points to the most powerful force that can be had in the most ordinary body—the power of how to bear pain.
Just like the pull-line puppets that can be seen everywhere in Prague, the strange and terrifying look, the mechanical and stiff body movements, as if they have read all the cruel truths, but they are still playing out a human story in the warm pulse.