Five years ago, if not to the day, my mother and I left on a day-trip to Prague from Vienna. The beautiful city was left tainted with 2 of the 4 allotted hours spent in the city dealing with the logistics of a stolen wallet. I never cared to go back.
Earlier this summer, however, a friend of mine asked if it were possible to meet up before I left Europe. The only dates that I could join in on her intercontinental escapade would be during the Prague stop off. So I sucked it up and went.
The night I left Budapest was one of the hottest of the summer. My assigned bed to Prague was in a train car built at the turn of the century, last century. My two cabin companions and I were sweating buckets with only the hot air from the window providing a semblance of ventilation. When our conductor walked in to check tickets he explained how to bolt all three locks on the door and warned that we must shut the windows when we go to sleep.
"There are too many thieves that jump onto the train in the middle of the night," he went on to say after noting the incredulous looks on our faces.
Thankfully as the train picked up speed, and the night wore on, the cabin became more bearable .
Just before we all settled into bed, I stepped out to the hall. The windows were down and a deliciously cool breeze whipped the hair around my face. I rested my arms on the sill and watched the moonlit landscape pass by.
In the distance stood a castle-like building on a hill, perfectly lit up to make it appear as if it was something out of a fairytale.
While gazing at the building, a little Indian girl walked over to her dad who stood at the next window over and pleaded for a song. After a bit of hesitation, he consented. His beautiful tenor voice softly sang out a Hindi lullaby, making the moment magical.
And I knew- a second visit to Prague would make all the difference.
Earlier this summer, however, a friend of mine asked if it were possible to meet up before I left Europe. The only dates that I could join in on her intercontinental escapade would be during the Prague stop off. So I sucked it up and went.
The night I left Budapest was one of the hottest of the summer. My assigned bed to Prague was in a train car built at the turn of the century, last century. My two cabin companions and I were sweating buckets with only the hot air from the window providing a semblance of ventilation. When our conductor walked in to check tickets he explained how to bolt all three locks on the door and warned that we must shut the windows when we go to sleep.
"There are too many thieves that jump onto the train in the middle of the night," he went on to say after noting the incredulous looks on our faces.
Thankfully as the train picked up speed, and the night wore on, the cabin became more bearable .
Just before we all settled into bed, I stepped out to the hall. The windows were down and a deliciously cool breeze whipped the hair around my face. I rested my arms on the sill and watched the moonlit landscape pass by.
In the distance stood a castle-like building on a hill, perfectly lit up to make it appear as if it was something out of a fairytale.
While gazing at the building, a little Indian girl walked over to her dad who stood at the next window over and pleaded for a song. After a bit of hesitation, he consented. His beautiful tenor voice softly sang out a Hindi lullaby, making the moment magical.
And I knew- a second visit to Prague would make all the difference.
1 comment:
I went all gushy there at the end. That moment really was magical.
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