I've got a soft spot for Prague, it's the very first city I backpacked in, the first city I hostelled in. Back before travellercliche. Back at the start of the internet travel age. So long ago that Prague isn't even in the Czech Republic anymore. Well Czechia.
So I went back. But this time it was a stag do so the wide-eyed wonder of my more innocent years was substantially more red-eyed.
And no-one wants to hear about a stag do. The things that seemed hilarious at the time (the taxodermy tiger, Edgerley Edge, goulash in bread, the Nationwide text, the koala bar, the sinister accordianist, the 80s cafe, and a coffee, etc) will at best seem like cliquey in-jokes. So I shall gloss over that as much as possible and leave you with two recommendations. One for the best bar, one for the best cafe. And by best I mean weirdest, obviously.
Alchemy was a bar that seemed to base itself on Knightmare. Or a nightmare. There was a point in the evening when a cloaked figure in a plague mask carried a box of smoke to the table next door and presented them with a tarot card. You don't get that in Wetherspoons. Often.
If you find yourself in that bit of Prague between the Old and New Towns follow the chalk signs to breakfast and you too might find yourself in Anicaffe. It's a chintz-lined cafe-cum-spa run by a lady who oozes personality but never seems to be entirely sure where she is or what she's doing. The food was good. Everything else was bonkers. Try and find it.
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