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Publishing: June 19th 2017
Today was a simple day to explore the alleyways and shops of Old Town Praha. We quite literally spent the day walking around in various circles and eating. Our initial plan had been to go to the castle, but I knew that was not something that Anthony really wanted to do, after all I’m the one that fantasizes about living in a castle.
Since it’s the beginning of the weekend, we watched as the city came alive, in the middle of the old town square, a HUGE stage was being set up, the amount of tourists had at least doubled. There were teams and school groups everywhere. Street performers were out in droves, and the number of beggars also seemed to double. The weather has been spectacular all week, the sun is shining and it’s a steady 25 degrees Celsius. A rain storm had come through at 5am, but the streets were dry by the time we headed out. We took dad on a long walk, stopping to have a cold Coca-Cola at a cafe right in front of the church where he had been baptized. I asked him, just out of curiosity, what the name of the church was.
There were no signs on the outside, so of course since he didn’t know we googled it. Oddly enough, google couldn’t answer our question, I mean it showed up on the map, but no name associated to it. We found the street, St Nicholas, but no church. I laughed and said, maybe it’s named St Nicholas, wouldn’t that be a sign… Let me go back for a moment, my eldest son, as most of you know is named Nicholas, not because of anyone in the family, but because his father and I liked the name when someone mentioned it to us while we were expecting. We did not know that we were having a boy, but, I was sure, and no one believed me. My father had wanted a boy, mostly I believe because he had lost his “twin”, his cousin Harry, during the holocaust when he was only a child. When Nick was born on July 17th, my father felt that he was a gift from Harry. July 17th was the day the American’s bombed Shanghai, liberating it from Japanese occupation and giving my father and his family their first exposure to Americans and the English. Back to the
cafe, we had to ask the waiter for the name of the Church. He immediately told us “oh yes, it’s St Nicholas!” My father just looked at me – I smiled and said, do you finally believe in the power of the universe and how things happen just the way they are supposed to? I know, long boring story that has nothing to do with our travels, but an important moment for my dad, since he didn’t want us to name our son Nicholas!
That evening we wandered even more and found a “real” Czech restaurant and had probably the best meal of the week, it was so authentic and home made, just delish.
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