OK, I’m just gonna say this. I’ve never read Kafka. If I had to bet, I’d say the only one who ever has is Bob Ackerman.
I do know that his museum is strategically located right next to the Peeing Men, which may be one of the most photographed sites in Prague. But I suspect that’s just a coincidence.
Suffice it to say that Kafka is a revered figure in Prague.
More so even than that other famous author. Who was not even born here and talked funny.
On the other hand, I have questions about the way this city has chosen to memorialize the guy. Still, he was said to be the master of the absurd. So there’s that.
What I learned from seeing Kafka’s Rotating Head is that he must have had a hard time, um, keeping it together.
But never mind that. This was our last day in Prague and I absolutely had to find out if there is more to this town than Kafka. I suspected so.
I did stumble upon a booming Christmas Market business going on in the Old Town Square. In several U.S. states I imagine those sausages would have to be registered as concealed weapons.
Oh, and we discovered the Agronomical Clock. Without which crops would never grow.
At the Illusion Museum we saw things that you couldn’t really see with the naked eye but which, when photographed, turned out to be faces and stuff. Of course you have to take my word for that because all I can show you are the photographs.
BTW, pay no mind to that really tiny guy in the middle. That’s an optical illusion and bears no resemblance to anyone you ever knew.
We went to the Jewish Quarter and toured a synagogue on whose walls were recorded the names of tens of thousands of victims of the Holocaust.
I also happened upon a memorial to the young Czechs who had finally had enough, stood up to the communists, and wrestled their country back.
Oh, and we walked down the “narrowest street” in Prague. Which, frankly, didn’t even look like a street to me, except for the traffic signal.
Saw the Dancing Building. Check. Caught of a glimpse of Brad Pitt still trying to sack Troy. Check. Oh, and ice skaters. Check.
Signs of intelligent life in Prague.
Signs that things may be getting way out of hand (hey, pal, I’ve got a daughter).
And signs that we all may soon be in deep trouble.
Late in the day it started snowing and the birds got grounded.
As I walked back to the hotel it occurred to me, not for the first time, that Prague is a stunning city.
Alas, time and Ron Cunningham wait for no city. So tomorrow… Nuremberg.