Brrr!

Yikes. I sure missed my scarf today and could have used a sweater too. The sunny morning promised a balmy day, but no sooner had we passed the point of no return on our way to the Charles Bridge than sterling silver sky wiped out the sun. The wind came up and stirred the street debris, whipping leaves and litter around our feet. It was miserably cold. But by the time we reached Charles Bridge the sun managed to poke out again and suddenly it was hot. Much of the rest of the day was spent zipping and unzipping my jacket.




Charles Bridge has 30 statues, many kiosks and even street musicians. Each statue tells a story and while they don't look remotely alike, they make me think of our totem poles. Both of them are created not just as art, but to help the storyteller relate history down through generations in the absence of a written language. At least that's what I think.

Then we climbed the hill to the palace and 207 - count 'em - stairs to the palace. *gasp* It left me breathless for two reasons. The other was the view of Prague laid out below us in spectacular colour: pale golden buildings topped with steeply pitched scarlet roofs.



In the distance a peculiar bubbly grey wall caught our eye so we sought it out later. It's called the Dripstone Wall and looks like a collection of dripping leaves. But on closer inspection you can see frogs and snakes and grotesquely formed faces hidden in its recesses.




Church at the palace.



It was a long and tiring day. This tourist stuff is really hard work!