Back in Prague for 48 hours, I wonder if Europe has at last lost its magic. I remember the excitement of those early adventures - seeking out every last lane and footpath in Durham, hearing Welsh with delight as Phillip and I ended a long car journey in Caernarvon, gleefully dodging buckets of rain in Barcelona and wondering if my camera's memory would last the day, let alone the week. The details were overwhelming - the beauty, the history, the languages, the people (NO a la guerra!), the food, the secrets that seemed to be around every corner. That day in Provence Bryan and I stopped by a farmer's market, then drove until we found some rocks by a clear blue river to have a simple but gorgeous meal of fresh bread, cheese and olive oil (he had salami too - I was still vegetarian then) - nothing seemed better and as things 'ought' to be.
Footage of Greek riots and endless news - no longer news really - about the recession and demise of the Eurozone drive it home that Europe has had its heyday. The buildings are in constant need of repair, the water mains are antiquated and these beautiful old city centres have become entire wonderlands catering for tourists who arrive by the coach-load. Horse-drawn carriage tours, caricature artists on the bridge - the whole lot. Overpriced restaurants and souvenir shops abound, and I wonder where the 'real' people are.
But I guess this is reality now - tourism is a reliable source of income, so why not bend to that? To what end should we resist culture becoming commodified? Marionettes, garnet jewellery and Kafka postcards - they lap it up so they keep getting produced. Fair enough. I shouldn't be so arrogant to think that they have sold out - everyone has to make a living. It's nothing but pride that makes me shudder when I hear loud Americans - oh I'm so much more cultured, I'm so sensitive and tuned-in - they don't really understand or even try to. I'm not a tourist - I'm a traveller! You know exactly what I'm talking about :o) What is it about aesthetes and intellectuals that make them (us) so proud?
Because the fact is I'm sitting in a lovely little cafe in the Staroměstská (because Prague IS beautiful! Why would I wander around the bleak suburbs?), it's full of Brits and Germans and all the staff speak English. And I'm glad they do because I don't speak Czech and they make really good hot chocolate.
So I'm going to pay, put my sunglasses back on and wander through the streets discreetly taking photos on my phone and trying to blend in as much as possible (good luck to little Asian me!). I really must stop being so cynical and just enjoy being here.
By the way, the photo above is of the escalators in the metro. I liked the colours and starkness of them, and every fifth step was numbered. I don't know why.