Peripatetic in Prague (in pictures)

People kept asking me why I was taking pictures of the table decorations at my hotel in Prague. "You must really like cactus," said one attendee, and the hotel manager told me I could take one home if I liked them so much. But it wasn't the cute little cacti that excited my interest. It was the curly little wood shavings dyed in the hotel's signature colors, saffron and scarlet. That's right: in Prague I found myself surrounded by--

[drum roll, please]

EXCELSIOR!

I explained several times that before the era of styrofoam peanuts, curly little wood shavings used as packing material were called Excelsior. Many people humored me by nodding and smiling and acting as if they cared. I can't help it: I encounter excelsior so rarely in the real world that it gives me a little frisson of pleasure.

Pleasure was easy to find in Prague, even when I didn't know where I was or what I was seeing. I spent a lot of time lost even though I had a map. You know how at Disney World you can orient yourself by looking for the spires of Cinderella's castle rising above all else? In the Old City of Prague, such spires rise on every other block, but that doesn't mean it's easy to get to them. Note to self: next time, take a guidebook.

At the center of it all is the lovely Vlatava River, lined with magnificent historic buildings, but you don't have to walk a block to find something thoroughly modern, like guns hanging in the courtyard outside an art museum or workers carefully removing and replacing ancient cobblestones so they can repair the drains.

The city's palimpsest of history is apparent in its architecture, with the lines of old construction visible despite newer additions, but Prague is more than just a picturesque tourist site. I had intended to tour the old Jewish quarter Friday afternoon but got well and thoroughly lost and then had to meet friends for supper, so I thought I'd try again Saturday morning. Stupid me: I had forgotten that Europe's oldest functioning synagogue would be busy functioning as a synagogue on Saturday. Earlier, I had walked up to the castle intending to finally get inside St. Vitus Cathedral, but they were celebrating Mass at the time so I stayed outside.

Despite my poor planning, I found plenty to enjoy in Prague. I got a ridiculous amount of pleasure from listening to these five gentlemen playing jazz on Charles Bridge as the sun fell and the full moon rose over the river on Friday evening.

By then my feet needed a break so I went down to this courtyard in Malo Strana to sit under the autumn leaves and await my dinner companions. While there, I noticed a bride and groom getting their pictures taken. I had seen several over the course of the evening and I saw more the next day: young brides in full white dresses, veils, and tiaras, accompanied by men in formal wear and photographers carrying masses of equipment. They posed on benches under the trees in Malo Strana, on the steps to Charles Bridge, near the Astronomical Clock, and in front of any number of religious statues all along the way. The brides looked chilled in the cold, damp air, and some of them bundled their long trains over their arms to avoid dragging them over the rough cobblestones.

This Asian couple bundled up against the chill, but I was most impressed by the groom's jacket: you can't tell from the photo, but the silver-gray fabric was so shiny it sparkled and shimmered in the autumn light.

I wandered around so randomly and saw so much I didn't quite understand that I've resolved to someday go back--with a guidebook and a good map and a plan and perhaps, if I'm feeling a little silly, a banner with the strange device, "Excelsior!"