Once upon a time there was a young, curious girl locked in a nondescript cubicle, lusting to wander… Until one day she received a magical email, an email that changed her life and propelled her into a new normal filled with travel, culture and memories sure to last a lifetime.
Not a bad Disney pitch, right? As a little girl I believed the entire world one big fairy tale thanks to Ariel, Belle, and Jasmine. I would daydream about enchanted castles and magic carpet rides until one day the adult me realized that the steel city of Pittsburgh wasn’t exactly the kingdom I’d longed for as a child. The older I got, the more doubtful I became that the wonderful places where Disney princesses lived really existed anywhere other than the minds of the cartoon creators. I had all but given up hope of discovering a whole new world, until one day life was sprinkled with pixie dust thanks to the work abroad program, Remote Year. The live-work-travel community allowed me to live a vagabond lifestyle throughout Europe and visit fairy tale lands like Prague, a wondrous place ripped straight from a storybook (but with more cheap beer).
My chariot from Split, Croatia awaited on “transition day” in the form of my very own charter flight; how flying is meant to be done. The hour and a half carpet ride quickly turned into the ultimate party in the sky — with drinks flowing as if King Triton was our bartender. One of my fellow remotes, the self-anointed fastest man in Scotland, divvied them out in a borrowed flight attendant’s uniform.
We were welcomed to Prague by a gorgeous vista brimming with castles, romantic bridges, whimsical cobblestone streets and a Medieval astronomical clock. Prague is more than just fairy tale-saccharine, though. Depending on the light, a street can shift from a land of curiosity and eccentricity to something out of a dark gothic novel. Prague Castle is Europe’s largest preserved medieval castle and it towers above the city for all to bask in its glory. Fitting with our theme, I spent most of my visit dancing about the complex of gardens and courtyards singing “Once Upon A Dream” and pretending to kiss an invisible prince. I’m quite sure the grounds keeper thought I was insane.
Thanks to Remote Year immersing us in genuine “local” experiences, our Prague neighborhood, Zizkov, was outside the old town. There, the city becomes less polished and more authentic, bustling with farmer’s markets and lovers laying in the park. There’s also a colossal TV tower, complete with giant creepy babies made from bronze. By this point in my journey, I’ve realized that I’m happiest when I wander without purpose, allowing myself to get lost in each new city. With my new default mode of transportation of pounding the pavement, I set out to go off course in Prague’s enchanted streets. For wishful wanderers and hopeless romantics who want to whistle while they walk aimlessly, Prague has a multitude of must-sees. My personal favorite daily dose of love and peace was The John Lennon Wall; anyone can paint or write a positive message on the wall and it changes every single day. I wanted to try and document each and every love note but…the pilsner in Prague is literally cheaper than water and let’s just say I often got lost in my own thoughts and forgot to take photos.
Since I am in the business of sex (by day I am the mild-mannered Marketing Director for AdultEmpire.com) my tourist bucket list is a bit more profane than the average vagabond’s. Where most people arrive in Prague and head straight for Charles Bridge, I instead bee lined for the Sex Machines Museum (SMM) — the first and only museum in the world devoted exclusively to sex toys. This three-story sex sanctuary is located near the Old Town Square and houses naughty novelties dating back to the 1580s. I felt like a naughtier version of Charlie in the Chocolate Factory as I time-traveled through centuries of depravity. I don’t know if it was me or if it were a calculated part of the SMM experience but it seemed as if the temperature rose with each room I entered. When I laid eyes on the Gyro Lator riding vibrator from the 1950s I knew it was time to leave and get a cold drink.
With plenty of daylight when I was there — in a city with art everywhere you looked — the fun never stopped. From gritty underground pubs like Usudu, to rooftop bars with gorgeous views of Praha at the Terrace of Prince, to all-night clubs, there was never a lack of sensory stimulation. Hot and bothered by what I saw in the Sex Museum, I was in desperate need of a cold shower; instead I found a cold Pilsner. I stumbled into a restaurant situated on Petrin Hill advertising the best views in the city on their chalkboard. I knew instantly upon walking through the gate, they weren’t lying. Inside, I was invited to join a table of old English chaps my father’s age on a yearly boys-only trip for nine hours of drinking and multiple renditions of Beatles tunes, sung alongside the violinist and accordion player. I made mates for life.
While I had a dry run in Split due to illness, I made sure to make up for lost time, sexually speaking, in month two. To say I got my mojo back in Prague is an understatement. I soon learned that among many of the cultural differences, broken English sweet talk is one of my new favorite turn-ons. My main flavor that month was a hottie from Turkey who supplied most of the gems that I’ll be sure to work into my future repertoire, including my new favorite line, “I’m doing the walk of fame, not walk of shame.” At one point, the Turk took a moment and prayed before a certain sexual act in his native language. Upon hearing the word ‘Allah’, I wondered if I fell too far down the rabbit hole. Was I about to be converted or pleasured? But carnality is universal and Allah smiled upon us both that day. I was dubbed the ‘Princess of Fun’ that evening and I’ve been contemplating getting it tattooed on me… somewhere.
If Prague wasn’t storybook enough, I had the perfect way to put a cap on my time in my new favorite city. I had the privilege of having my figurative backstage cherry popped at the Foo Fighters show at the O2 Arena thanks to a friend visiting from LA. Mingling with the band, including shaking hands with Pat Smear, I tried not to geek out too hard. There could be no better send off from a month of pure fantasy than hearing one of my all-time favorite songs, Everlong, performed live.
Next up, things heat up in Valencia, Spain. Stay tuned.
