Prague, CR - Let's Go Back to the Beginning

I remember the first time someone made fun of my last name, Kubena. I was in middle school, and my classmate had left a note on my desk "K stands for Kupid". I think they intended for it to sound like "Stupid" but my naïve mind went straight to "Cupid" and I remember smiling and thinking an unknown suitor had left it on my desk before I saw the group of girls snickering at me and laughing in the corner. My heart dropped in that moment, and I tucked the note quietly away. Thinking back on it now, that note, in itself, was incredibly foolish.

Nonetheless, it affected me. All the times a teacher had mispronounced my name flashed in my mind. The crease in their eyebrows as they tried to place it, like knowing its origin will identify me. When I went home that day, I went to my Mother and asked if I could change my last name. "I would like my last name to be Stine" I had stated. A long dream of mine had been to carry the "R. L. Stine" initials, just like my favorite writer at the time. My Mother chuckled and shook her head in exasperation, as I had asked this question multiple times before.

Years later, I looked at the meaning of my last name and I remember being mortified to discover that "Kubena" derived from the Czech word for concubine. My Mother had told me my Father's family emigrated from Czechoslovakia or the Czech Republic as it is known today. My Father wasn't a big part of my life, and I knew little to nothing from his side of the family, but when the opportunity came to travel to Prague, Czech Republic I grasped at it. Because, at least for me, there is identity in a last name - and I longed to know mine.

My Husband took me to Prague for my birthday, we had gone to Italy a couple of months before (where his family hailed from; alas, my teenage dream did not come true, as his last name is "Seminaro", but I have the same initials and a lot of love, so I still win).

In my envisioning of Prague, I always thought it would shadow my father: religious and secluded. However, whatever I imagined could never compare to real-life Prague. It was vibrant, colorful, and loud. Our Airbnb was right by the famous Charles Bridge. As a way of background, the Charles Bridge is the oldest bridge still standing over the Vltava river in Prague and the second oldest bridge in the Czech Republic. The bridge, formerly known as “Stone” or “Prague”, has only been called “Charles Bridge” since 1870. And until 1841 it was the only bridge over the Vltava river in Prague.

The Charles Bridge is made famous still by the architecture and statues that adorn the bridge. We arrived at night and even then, the religious statutes loomed large over me. I don't do well walking at night, especially in a foreign city, and I had been convinced the statues (in their old age, circa 1638) would fall and crush me as they held crosses and religious ornaments to the sky. In the daylight, they are not at all menacing, and I noticed some stopped to pray in front of the saint statues (not helping the traffic, mind you). I remember wondering if my Father had been an avid Catholic by choice or if it had passed from this land to there.

Our first full day in Prague (also, coincidentally my birthday) was full of history, fun, and a lot of steps. Our first stop was the Café Louvre. A historical café that included famous intellectual patrons, Albert Einstein and Franz Kafka.

It earned its reputation and although my husband was less than impressed with the Czech breakfast made up of bread, cheese, some meats, and a hard-boiled egg, I loved my vegetarian-friendly avocado toast. The coffee, which I ordered since that was Einstein's go-to was a great cup of coffee and didn't have a bitter after-taste.

Afterward, we made our way to what in my mind was the holy grail: Strahov Library. It was a thirty-minute walk from the center of town and I got distracted on the way by shops and the changing of the guard at the Palace, that thirty-minute walk turned into a three-hour detour of me getting distracted by every shop and historical building we walked by. In exasperation, my husband kept reminding me about the library that I had gushed over weeks beforehand. It was close to 2:00 p.m. by the time we made it to the Strahov Library and we had to track up a couple of levels of stairs before the library guard stopped us and informed us we needed to go to the ticket counter at the information center to get tickets. He told us the information booth was right around the corner, what he failed to mention was the one and-a-half-hour line that formed outside the information booth and around the building. I was chest fallen, but it was my birthday, and my husband was determined to get me in the library, he walked to the end of the line with no complaint. I, admittedly, am not a patient person. That is why I think my husband and I work so well together, he is the yin to my yang. He was patiently waiting beside me while I shopped and he didn't utter one word of suggestion that the library may not be worth an hour and a half wait. I loved him for it. I, on the other hand, was getting antsy. We were in PRAGUE, and we had to wait for almost two of our precious daylight hours (it starts getting dark by 4:00 p.m.) in a line. I consoled myself with pictures of the library while I waited, reinforcing the idea that the library was indeed worth it.

The Strahov library is one of the most valuable (with approximately 200,000 volumes) and well-preserved historical libraries from the 1600s. The oldest part of the library, the Baroque Theological Hall, looks like a medieval library dream, with artfully designed ceilings and rolling ladders (the thing book lover's dreams are made of). Determined we stayed in that line as it inched forward. Once we finally got to the front and asked for tickets, the attendant warned us that "due to humidity" we were unable to go inside the library and had to stay at the door. We brushed it off and said of course it was fine (as we had, at this point, waited for over an hour in a long line) but my dreams were crushed. I walked out deflated at the thought of standing in front of a door. I had dreams of looking up at the ceiling, making my way up the ladder - Beauty and the Beast style, and getting the chance to look at the spines and imagine what the books must have gone through, the history they must have endured.

I walked silently up the stairs to the library, my Husband giving me a reassuring hug sensing my feelings without me having to voice them. "At least we get to see the library". Dear reader, it was beautiful but was akin to me looking at the images as I had waited in that long line.

I am easy to cheer up, and as I mentally checked off the library from my list, we got some Chimney Cakes. Chimney cakes are sold EVERYWHERE in Prague. They are made by depositing layers and layers of dough on a cylindrical spit. It is then covered in cinnamon and sugar and baked on an open fire. However, the modern take has added ice cream or cream, based on your preference, into a more cone-like shape. My favorite was the strawberries topped with cream and my husbands and I made a game of pointing out how many Chimney Cake shops we passed on the way back to the city center.

Have you ever walked in a city and could feel the history in the streets? That is how it felt like walking into the city center. The streets were made from squared rocks, and even then, time had eroded the edges and tourists had picked some loose. Towers and castles decorated the skyline and it was easy to see how Prague coined the name "The City of 100 Towers". One of my favorite parts of Prague was The Prague Astronomical Clock or "Prague Orloj", a medieval astronomical clock attached to the Old Town Hall in Prague. The clock was first installed in 1410, making it the third-oldest astronomical clock in the world and the oldest clock still in operation. It is beautiful and every hour, a procession of the 12 disciples makes their way above the clock's face. It is a beautiful display of ringing and a crowd forms to watch the passing of the hour. While I stood in the crowd, I wondered if my forefathers had watched the same clock toll. It is coincidental to think, the way that time works.

My favorite spot (and the best end to my birthday) was Prague's famous beer spa. My Husband had pre-booked for an hour and included an unlimited tap of beer, a sauna, and a 1,000-liter oak hot tub filled with beer ingredients. We only had an hour and I drank a whopping five glasses of beer (my Husband lost count of his glasses) and we toasted to a day of adventure and a happy new year.

I don't know if I found my identity in Prague, I did google map "Kubena" while I was there and came across a host of doctors and dentists with the last name (and some nice "Kubena" glassware). I wrote a post that said that I had made it home, and I paused at the word "home". Home to me was the house I left behind in San Antonio, Texas before we moved to Harrogate, England. But it was also my Sisters and Brother back in the states and my Grandma's warm embrace. It was my Husband as he kissed my head and pulled me towards a new adventure. It was my dog, Faith's happy bark when she saw me open the door and it was also here, on Charles Bridge as I watched the seagulls fly overhead, smelled Chimney cakes in the air and heard the tolling of the clock, I felt happy, I felt like I belonged - I felt proud to have been a Kubena.

Fun Tips:

• Most locals understand English and we had no issues communicating as we explored Prague.

• Take out cash at the airport or in the banks, the Euro ATMs will charge higher rates.

• Do not take a taxi from the airport, book beforehand or book an Uber - the taxi's at the airport will also charge exorbitantly higher prices.

• Look up while walking the streets of Prague, you may spot a gravity-defying statue.

• Go around Christmas time, the Christmas markets have local food and artistry (not to mention the lights and trees decorating the squares are beautiful - also, a perfect spot to try a traditional chimney cake!)

• Be careful in crowded areas like Charles Bridge and Prague Orloj, they are known to be areas ripe for pickpockets.

• Have fun, drink a pint and walk down random streets, count and try to visit the museums you stumble upon.