We arrived in Prague to the sound of accordion played by an old busker working his way along the train.
After checking into our hostel we found our way to the town centre and joined the mass of tourists assembling to watch the astronomical clock chiming the hour, adorned with animated figures and a parade of miniature apostles.
Prague was a marvel to me. Once the kingdom of Good King Wenceslas, Old Town Prague is a composition of medieval streets, Teutonic buildings and fairytale spires with just a hint of its hedonistic heyday in the art nouveau facades and absinthe bars, while Soviet era trams rumble along gritty streets to the outskirts of town.
Our guide book remarked that the mystery of Prague is what happened to the summer menu, but for the short time I was there I was quite happy to eat my fill of goulash with dumplings and the odd stein of local beer.