I Wonder If John Loved Trdelník

by Efé - (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

A leap into the unknown Czech Republic

Prague. Where modernity dances with history in a way that entices and invites travellers like myself to simply marvel and gasp. My girlfriend and I had arrived on a rainy morning in May we mapped out our to do list in ten minutes. Well she did actually, she had the precision of a ship captain and we were to set sail from where we were in Florenc right into the heart of the capital. We opted to walk most of the time. With Google maps I felt like I could have walked the city backwards if I dared. Like with most trips, food was a high priority and our eyes (and noses) were primed and ready for any local delicacies. Cobbled stones under our trainers triggered nostalgia, dreams of a world of magic and beautiful history. We walked through streets lined with bakeries whose smells beckoned you in with tempting smells and artistic creations made by hands that were taught by older generations. Same twist, same shake, same amount of heat. Vanilla and warm cinnamon coated our nostrils and our tongues lashed away inside our mouths begging to be tamed by whatever had roused it out of its cage. We stopped and looked for the source of the smell, which was a difficult feat as we were in a vortex of sweetness. Round brown moulds of what looked like hollowed out cylindrical doughnuts hung in the doorway. We rose above the haze of baked goodness and looked in the direction of a smiling woman who was making a...wait what is that called? We looked above her to the sign that read...wait...how do you even say that? TRDELNÍK the sign read. We stared at each other blankly, a grin on each of our faces as we accepted the challenge to pronounce this appetising piece of culture. I thought it said 'Trade-L-Nik' she thought 'Trod-L-Nik'. We laughed at our hopeless British pronunciation and attempt to pronounce something that we clearly needed a prompt on and walked into the bakery. I drew the short straw and asked the smiling woman for a...uh...I pointed to the blackboard behind her with the word that was taunting us. I'm sure the letter T was making fun of us by now. "Ah! Let me tell you how to say it. Treh-del-nik. You try?" she said as she came to my rescue. Her eyes danced above the rotating dough and she smiled wide waiting for us to pass our test. "Treh-del-nik" we both repeated laughing awkwardly our inner-city accents winding through. Her accent was like golden syrup and ours more like marmalade. Nevertheless, we passed our test and we were rewarded with two hot sugary Trdelník doughnuts their insides coated with rich creamy Pistachio sauce. We walked into the square of Staré Mesto or Old Town with our delicious treats, marvelling at the sprawling gothic churches and gargoyles. Religion was evidently a vein of this country one that pumped life force into Prague's architecture, history and daily life. We walked across one of the most inspiring bridges I had ever seen in my life. The Karlův Most or Charles Bridge was a living breathing epicentre of tourism, business, love and art. I wanted to document it all. We allowed the path to guide us and ended up at Lennon's Wall also known as the Love Wall. As a hopeless romantic I was ready to slice up all the cheese that this opportunity presented. However, we didn't just see love, we also saw selfishness as this once iconic wall that was a graffitied homage to John Lennon was completely covered up by other artists begging to have eyes from all over the world see that 'Bruz was here '16'. All we could see were his eyes peering through those steel rimmed glasses, soft and unsuspecting almost like he had not been aware of his defacing. We didn't rush to take pictures as others had already covered that front in the world of filters. We stayed a little while and looked for the remnants of the original Love Wall, we then bid farewell to John. Walking back to the bridge I smiled to myself and wondered if John loved Trdelník.