Prague, Bastion of My Dreams
Prague erupts like something out of Hans Christian Anderson, all spires and turrets and red tiled rooftops. It captivates and enthralls and before you know it you are immersed, as in one of those fairy tales, not knowing when the wind will turn cold or the wood chopper appear from the dark forest, axe in hand. Talk about bells and whistles: on the hour the whole city jangles to life to the tune of the most elaborate clockwork masterpieces ever invented by the tormented mind of humanity. Strange little figures emerge through starry doors, they bow, bang drums, pirouette, all to the tinkling of tiny bells and the huge gongs of their massive parents in the bell tower. The Astronomical clock is something to witness. You'll never be late again...
By Anne McGlynn
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