Prague (Part 2)

We, ourselves, visited the shores of the Vitava river, from whence the golem came. Well, not so much the shores as the bridge, the Charles Bridge, that vaunts over the river. King Charles IV built a ‘new’ bridge in 1342, when the original bridge was washed away in a flood in 1170. Again, I’m awed by how old everything is – and that I am walking on stones that old, or leaning on walls that old, or sitting outside a café . . . that old. The Charles Bridge is much more than a bridge. It is a history lesson, a study in architecture, a performance venue, a virtual heaven for pickpockets, and a place of supernatural phenomenon.

All along the bridge, artists and artisans ply their trade – portraits, caricatures, jewelry, landscapes, knitted caps, photographs of the bridge, cellphones, and decks of cards. Musicians and jugglers add to the circus-like atmosphere as we wend our way through throngs of fellow tourists, our bags clutched to our chests or our pockets buttoned down firmly over wallets, having been warned about the ‘pickpocket scourge’.  Dogs wander about, on-leash and off, snapping at the copper Korunas being tossed into the guitar cases.

Large statues flank both sides of the bridge. Each has a story of historical, religious, or supernatural significance. Some are of knights, some of saints, one is a crucifix, and some depict horrible deaths by torture.  For example, there is a statue of St. John of Nepomuk, who was martyred by being thrown off the bridge by order of King Wenceslaus (yes, that Wenceslaus of Christmas song fame). John heard the queen’s confessions and would not reveal what she said to the King when asked. So he was thrown over and, apparently stars appeared just above the surface of the water where he slipped to his drowning death. A little further up the bridge, at the spot where John was thrown in, is a brass cross with five stars (the ones that appeared when he drowned). The stars are buffed and shined by the kisses of those people that line up, in hopes that by kissing them they will have luck, or love, or the fulfillment of a wish.  

On the other side of the bridge, a plaque depicts a knight and his devoted dog. I liked that one just because it reminded me of a childhood book I absolutely adored – Greyfriar’s Bobby. The dog in the plague also gleams. Perhaps he too is kissed to a shine as he reminds people of faithful mutts they have lost over time.