EP 14. 《Meeting world-traveler in Prague》

First Glimpse of Prague: A Reunion with the Traveler from China

The traveler I had met by chance in an Estonian hostel arrived in Prague exactly as expected. Consequently, I decided to spend my weekend break unlocking the second capital of the Central European trio: Prague. To many, Prague is a place of longing, often hailed as the most beautiful city in Central Europe; yet, as I arrived in the Old Town in the early morning light, my heart remained still, without so much as a ripple of excitement.

I sat alone on a bench in the Old Town Square, watching the crowds surge toward the Astronomical Clock like a rising tide, holding their breath for the rhythmic performance of the mechanical figures. Prague’s urban structure is strikingly similar to Budapest’s: the Vltava River bisects the city, with high grounds on the west bank hosting the castle and overlooks, while the east bank is home to museums and opera houses. If the names were scrubbed from the map, I might have succumbed to a sense of displacement; only the fairy-tale red roofs and ochre walls served as a reminder that I was standing in a different medieval world.

The Illusion of Prague

Neither of us are the type of travelers who cram an itinerary; for us, the “reunion” in this city was meaningful enough in itself. We carefully navigated the swarms of tourists—vying for space before the Astronomical Clock like pigeons fighting for crumbs—passed the Dancing House, and arrived at my only true objective: the Charles Bridge. However, the gloomy skies coupled with the suffocating crowds shattered the ethereal, quiet imagery I had held in my memory.

Seeking a moment of peace, we decided to rent a pedal boat. I rarely spend my budget on these seemingly “frivolous” and non-representative tourist experiences, but the moment we drifted away from the masses, I discovered that this sense of “quiet amidst the chaos” was profoundly captivating. We had no destination; we simply pedaled slowly around a river island, sipping freshly bought chocolate milk while watching flocks of ducks glide alongside our boat. Much like the idle seagulls of Helsinki or the plump pigeons of Krakow, these interactions between animals and travelers quietly shape the soul of a city. Perhaps those experiences that seem like a “waste of money” are exactly where meaning is found.

Destiny on a Long Journey

The fair weather was fleeting; as the rain began to fall, we ducked into a KFC for shelter. He once had a well-paying job in Shanghai, but after enduring the pandemic and personal heartbreak, he resolutely resigned to wander the world. To outsiders, travel is romanticized, but a long-term journey on a limited budget is, in reality, an exhausting marathon. He preferred alternating between hotels and hostels, while I was a through-and-through budget traveler; after all, before coming to Europe, I never anticipated having the luxury to cross borders so frequently.

Regarding the education system, he still recommended that I study in mainland China as a non-local student to avoid the intense “involution” (competition) faced by locals, calling it a significant historical dividend for us. When the conversation turned to the woman from Fujian we met in Tallinn, Estonia, he complained with slight impatience about her casual nature. Before parting, he mentioned wanting to get rid of his 65-liter hiking pack to avoid the high cost of checked luggage for his flight to New York; he suggested that if I could store it for him, we could meet again in Barcelona. In the rainy evening, we went our separate ways. To meet twice in this vast world is already destiny; I do not know if there will be a third.

Salvation at Strahov: Reclaiming Prague’s Honor

To reclaim Prague’s honor in my mind, I walked back toward the Charles Bridge, determined to find that “perfect night view” from a higher vantage point on my own. I first attempted the Petřín Lookout Tower, but it was closed for the holiday and the view was obscured. Afterward, I stepped into an eerie forest path leading toward the castle.

In the darkness, every distant bark and rustle of footsteps toyed with my fear. I quickened my pace through the woods until the lights finally flickered back into view; I had unexpectedly arrived at the Strahov Monastery (Strahovský klášter). There, I found a vantage point rarely mentioned online—a perfect view, silent and void of people, which perfectly matched my expectations for this ancient city. This monastery, though not far from the city lights, felt exceptionally quiet. Just a few minutes’ walk away, people were chatting and drinking outside restaurants, and a bit further, I could see tour buses with groups of tourists. I couldn’t help but pity them for missing Prague’s reserved silence; their journey felt like listening to a piece of classical music without any rests.

While crossing the road on the way down, still immersed in the visual shock of the scenery, I was cursed at by an aggressive driver simply because I crossed in front of him—though he hadn’t slowed down in the slightest. The jolt brought me back to reality; I hurried to the station and caught the student bus back to Brno for a mere two euros. Returning to a rainy Brno at midnight, I walked briskly past the homeless figures still lingering around the station. Even after resting for a while, my perceptions and intuitions continue to evolve; I trust that they can help me avoid danger, just as they can help me find the most beautiful views. I suddenly thought of the girl from Hong Kong I met in the Budapest hostel, and I think I finally understand why reuniting on a journey is such a beautiful and exhilarating thing.