PRAGUE

Europe, often called the Old World for being the cradle of ancient civilizations, traditions, and ancient cultures, has reinvented itself and taken on modern contours. Yet, at the heart of the continent, Prague remains a haven of nostalgia, where the medieval spirit lives on in every street, square, and tower that stands against the elements. The city seems to have been born from a dream.

As soon as I cross the border, the road transforms into a fairytale setting; green pastures and tiny towns in the distance, and my thoughts drift away to tranquility. The miles stretch like postcards, and with every curve, I feel the urge to stop and capture it all in photos. As if every detail were unique and worthy of a photo.

At the first coffee stop, the feeling of frustration at not understanding anything written sets in. But with patience and the help of Google Translate, little by little the language begins to reveal itself, bringing a sense of discovery.

Hours later, Prague's chaotic traffic greets us. Before heading out to explore this city, the first thing we do is settle Baloo and Suki into our temporary residence. Since it was late, we limited ourselves to dinner, but the restaurant we chose is, in itself, a relic preserved by time.

Upon entering its antique wooden doors, with bronze and cast-iron doorknobs that look like small works of art, I'm immediately transported to another era. A classic hat rack welcomes us, and our imaginations soar: men in tailored jackets and waistcoats, perhaps with a pocket watch, women in lace, velvet, or silk dresses, waists cinched by corsets, and elegant hats complete the scene. Our gaze continues to travel back in time as we take in the imposing Victorian-style coffered ceiling and the wood-finished floor; every detail whispering stories of a bygone era. My dinner, in this setting, becomes but a mere detail in the face of such beauty and charm.

The next day begins, and through the apartment window, a bright good morning greets our neighbor, the Prague National Museum ( Národní muzeum ), the largest and most important museum in the Czech Republic. Built in Neo-Renaissance style, the building is one of the city's architectural symbols, a reminder that history is ever-present, even in modern life. The agenda is packed, with so many things to do in so little time.

As you step out onto the street, vintage trams in cream and red hues parade along their tracks, contrasting with today's modernity. Every detail—from the rounded headlights to the polished wooden benches—exudes nostalgia for a slower, more elegant time, transforming the city into a veritable movie set.

As I walk toward the old town, the cobblestone alleys, narrow lanes, and monumental squares transport us centuries back. In Old Town Square, time takes on another dimension: the Astronomical Clock pulses in the heart of the city. Built in 1410, it not only marks the hours, but also the movements of the sun and moon, the calendar with months and signs of the zodiac, and its animated figures, including the Twelve Apostles, come to life every hour, attracting tourists who gather for a few moments to admire this masterpiece that combines medieval engineering and Gothic art.

Further on, the Church of Our Lady before Týn is the city's most emblematic Gothic building, dominating the main square, lined with cafés and shops inviting visitors to pause and contemplate. There, the traditional carriage ride still enchants tourists, who capture the scene in countless photos, as if it were an essential part of the city's charm.

But behind the romantic appearance lies a cruel reality: horses subjected to long journeys, pulling weights under the sun, cold, and incessant noise. Strapped to bridles that tear at the sensitivity of their mouths and to iron straps that mark their bodies, they carry, in addition to the imposed weight, a silent and constant pain. The agony is visible in the incessant movement of their mouths, a futile attempt to expel the metal that injures them. The whipping, often seen as a gesture of guidance, actually reveals the brutality of a method that imposes pain to obtain obedience. What for some is leisure, for them is fatigue, exhaustion, and mistreatment. Therefore, this outdated practice urgently needs to be rethought and banned, prioritizing respect for life and animal welfare.

Fortunately, the city seems to be waking up to this awareness. Today, a creative and charming alternative is already visible: traditional tours are being reinvented in vintage cars, which preserve the historical spirit and provide the same enchanting experience, but without exploiting animals; a choice that shows that tradition and ethics can go hand in hand. True progress lies in uniting beauty, culture, and compassion.

Although vegan, I was able to sample the traditional sweet bread famous on the streets: Trdelník, of Czech and Slovak origin. Made from a slightly sweet dough, usually made with water, flour, and yeast (though some recipes include eggs and butter), it is carefully rolled around a wooden cylinder and slowly rotated over a fire or something similar to a barbecue until evenly browned.

During baking, the dough is sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon, forming a caramelized crust that crackles gently when touched. The result is a hollow, light bread with a crispy outside and a soft interior, perfect for enjoying warm, while the sweet aroma wafts through the air.

Fillings range from classic Nutella chocolate to whipped cream, fruit preserves, and other delights, multiplying the possibilities for pleasure. Tasting a Trdelník is almost a ritual: watching the dough spin in the cylinder, smelling the aroma that envelops the square, and savoring each bite is an experience that unites tradition, art, and flavor. The true essence of local culture.

And, to my delight, I managed to find a vegan version of the dough, choosing cooked apples as the filling, which added a soft and comforting touch to this delicious experience, accompanied by a warm cappuccino.

To end the day on a high note, a walk across the Charles Bridge, which spans the Vltava River, is more than just a passage between banks; it's an open-air museum, where every stone and arch tells centuries of history. As you walk along it, you're surrounded by imposing statues of saints and historical figures, carved in stone and bronze details, silently observing the comings and goings of visitors, like guardians of memories and legends.

The charm isn't limited to the sculptures: caricaturists and street artists nestle between the pillars, offering playful portraits and unique souvenirs. Their quick, expressive drawings transform tourists into temporary city characters, while their nimble, creative hands bring the bridge to life in a new way every day.

Not missing the opportunity, I approached one of them and, cell phone in hand, asked about the possibility of doing something with Baloo and Suki's photo. Nenad Vitas, a uniquely stylish man with his hat, begins to bring the two to life on a blank sheet of paper. Curious onlookers stop to take a look, while we engage in lively conversation. In the midst of the conversation, we learn a little more about him: a Serbian citizen, he has lived in the Czech Republic for five years and found on the bridge not only a job but also a way to connect with the world. It's encounters like these, simple and unexpected, that reveal the true grandeur of travel.

In the background, a sound festival takes shape, coming from musicians spread across the bridge, each with their own instrument, creating a unique melody that blends with the pulse of the city.

Prague is not just a destination to visit; it is an experience to be lived with all the senses. It is music and melancholy, the lyricism of Dvořák and the dark universe of Kafka; it is the meeting of the mystical and the real. Its enigmatic aura intertwines with stories of alchemists, Jewish legends, and the almost magical atmosphere that emanates from its centuries-old buildings. Known as the "city of a hundred spires," it reveals on every corner a fascinating blend of styles, from Gothic to Baroque, passing through Renaissance, Art Nouveau, and even bold Cubism. The city invites both silent contemplation and the celebration of life: in the historic cafés that hold writers' secrets, in the ever-vibrant taverns, and in the nights that seem to know no end.

Consulting and Review: Arthur Barbosa