Thursday, 8 November 2018

Pleasures And Pain In Prague... Part 2

I woke up early on Friday morning, as stiff as the cocks of my gentleman visitors... only with some rather painful aching thrown in.  It seemed my eight mile hike yesterday hadn't done my sciatica much good.

I was due to meet friends to go to one of the main events of Prague Fetish Weekend - the Fetish Fair, a few miles outside the city centre, but that wasn't until midday.  Until then I had a lazy morning ahead.  Or would have done, if the bare space on the windowledge and the broken remains of the plant pot kept catching my attention like a broken tooth on a supermodel.  I had time to find a replacement, I decided.

I dressed in a lycra catsuit (in preparation for the Fair) and explored the streets around the apartment, figuring the residential area was more likely to have such an item than the touristy centre of the city.  After half an hour I found a flower shop, with rows of plant pots for sale.  Brilliant - and easier than expected.  I went inside and checked the white ones - there were white plant pots of every shape and size, but none that matched my broken one.  Unless I replaced them all, it was going to look a bit obvious.  Nevertheless, it gave me an idea - railway stations usually have flower shops, and the main Prague railway station was only short walk from the apartment, too - although in the opposite direction to where I currently was.  I set off back, retracing my steps, passing my apartment and continuing on to the railway station.

Now, I know that I'm not the best with directions, but I was confident of the direction when I caught up with two Chinese tourists lugging heavy suitcases going the same way as me.  Up in the distance I could see parts of the railway station, fairly close.  We crossed over a small road and the path began curving sharply to the right and getting thinner and thinner.  Here, in fact... https://www.google.co.uk/maps/@50.0813986,14.4334074,3a,75y,55.93h,80.42t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1sS55DY-MxOMsqucv2nhWObQ!2e0!7i13312!8i6656

The path, bizarrely, petered out to nothing.  At the far end an American tourist with a backpack the size of Kansas was stood there, totally perplexed.  The Chinese froze, seeing no way over the tall metal roadside barrier to the other side... not that there was much there, and the daily Prague Grand Prix was well under way (not that it really stops) to dissuade any attempt to dash over the road.

Stalemate.

"There's no way through," said the American, perfectly summing up the situation needlessly.  I had no idea how long he'd been stood there as I hadn't even seen him walking in front of us.

"No way through," repeated the Chinese, freezing still like two of the Qin Shi Huang's terracotta warriors.

They looked at me.  "Right," I said, taking control, "this way."  I turned and began walking back, not as confident as my stride suggested.  I'd seen an underpass a few minutes earlier, and was thinking it was the way under the road junction.  We passed a couple with a pram and suitcase heading for the same dead-end route we'd just found.  "Not that way" I advised, "the pathway stops."  They stopped and looked at each other, saying something in a language I couldn't catch - but I could see the El Al stickers on the man's suitcase.  Israelis, then.  The Chinese and American now joined us in our United Nations huddle.  I told them to follow me, heading down some steps, the American now jogging on ahead.  I helped the Israelis with their pram and suitcase whilst the Chinese manhandled their huge cases down the steep steps.

Luckily, the underpass took us exactly where I hoped it would - the train station.  I was now a bit hot and sweaty in my catsuit, and my hip was aching like a motherfucker.  Nevertheless, I was almost at my goal.

I wandered in to the station - it was deserted, but the old brutalist architecture was quite impressive.  I explored a bit more, not believing that Prague's main railway station would have no shops or even people.  I was right - on the lower floor there was platforms and shops galore... but no flowershops.  Fuck.  There was a classical quartet busking, though, the beautiful tones filling the halls of the station.

I had a good look around and decided I needed to concede defeat.  Dis-spirited, I left the station, walked through the park and back in the direction of the apartment.

Fifteen minutes later it began to sink in that I was hopelessly lost.  The streets, still lined with beautiful buildings, were unrecognisable.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - lost in Prague.
I wandered around a bit more, a slight panic uncurling in my stomach.  I glanced at my watch.  My initial plans for a 45-60 minute stroll were gone.  I was now in the middle of a two-hour hike, at least.  I found a money-exchange shop and went in.  I produced my rather crude and simple map and asked if they could show me where I was.  They marked on the map my current location - fifteen minutes walk north of the railway station, when I should have been heading south when I came out of the station.  In my head I retraced my steps.. left the station, crossed the park, went over two streets, went over... hold on.  Park?  Park?  I never saw a park on my way in.  Bollocks.  I showed the cashier where I needed to be.  He puffed out his cheeks in the internationally recognised code of "you're fucked" and marked the meandering way back home.

I left the shop and headed on my way back.  Ten minutes later I came to the Vltava river.  What the hell?  I realised I'd turned the wrong way out of the shop.  Ten minutes later I was back passing the money-exchange shop and carefully followed the route home.  A few streets later and I could see a giant panda towering above the crowds on the street.  Giant Panda?  That looked familiar, and is something I never thought I'd say or write.

I found myself at the bottom of Wenceslas Square.  As glad as I was to find myself in familiar surroundings it meant another slog up the crowded tourist spot (for what seemed the hundreth time) and fifteen minutes later I was back at the apartment... with no time to rest my aching hips as I had to head out to the Fair.

I rushed over to the tram stop.  No ticket machine.  In halting Czech (well, OK - English spoken very slowly) as I asked a woman where tickets could be purchased.  She had no idea.  I waited for the tram to arrive and asked the driver if he was going to my stop - Depo Hostivar.  If he was, I could perhaps sort the ticket out on the tram.

"No", he replied, closing his window rudely.  The tram left the stop, and I was just left.  Bugger.  I'd already had a text message to say my friends were heading to the Fair, so I had to find a way there.

I found a shop and asked a young girl for directions.  She pointed out the underground system was only a short walk away, and my stop was only five or six down the line.  Brilliant.  I headed back through another underpass up some stairs...

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
...down some stairs and an elevator and found myself finally on the underground.  There was bit of trouble with the sullen and sulking ticket machine not unlike that when I went to the Netherlands, but the Czech machines have a little to learn from the Dutch masters... but not fucking much, I can tell you.

Press the buttons for English language.  Nothing.  Take a guess and put some coins in - no, straight out the bottom.  Oh, the English section is now showing.  Put some more coins in - some accepted, others rejected.  Timed out.  Start again.  Different coins accepted this time, different ones rejected.  Train arrives, and leaves.  Start again...  Eventually, the machine grudgingly accepted my money having already made me miss a couple of trains, by which time I would have gladly smashed it up - if it wasn't built like a Russian T-34 tank, that is.  It was the ticket machine equivalent of Marvin The Paranoid Android.  "Life?  Don't talk to me about life."

Nevertheless, I was finally on the train and heading out to the Fair.  Still hot, still aching, but looking forward to seeing the Fair and friends.  The tram arrived at Depo Hostivar and I headed though the hospital grounds, finding my way to the fair.  No queues - a good sign.  I went in.  They were in the middle of setting up.  A womand said somehting in Czech.  I asked about the fair.  Her English-speaking colleague joined the conversation.  "It doesn't start until 6.00pm," she said.

"Fuck," I said.  "Fuck!" nodded the first lady, laughing.  "She knows that word," said the second.

My phone beeped.  A text message from my friends, informing me that the timings had changed and the Fair wasn't now opening until the evening so they were turning around and going straight to their hotel room instead.

Well.

It felt like a long journey back to the city centre, and I now had time to kill.  I got off the train, headed back down Wenceslas bloody Square again and decided to cheer myself up with a visit to the Sex Machine Museum.

I pushed through a crowd of tourists hanging about the entrance debating about entering (fnar fnar!), bought my ticket, and headed for the top floor to start my tour.  It was fantastic - and I realised that...
  1. There's very little that hasn't been tried before,
  2. Some people have always been bloody kinky.
  3. I must be depraved, as I either recognised or immediately understood what most of the furniture and appliances were for, and have used some of the modern equivalents in my sexual delights over the years.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - this one I've tried... Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - another familiar position, Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - shame I couldn't try it out... Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - familiar toys, Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - now THAT I'd be up for... Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - more familiar toys... Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - used those, used that... Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Fucking machines, dildos and vibrators, pissing thrones, orgy furniture, BDSM toys and restraints, sexual ornaments and toys, fetish attire, vintage erotic films... not just my Christmas shopping list for this year, but also the fabulous displays at the museum.  It was well worth the entrance fee.

Afterwards I finally met up with C and his lady friend for a few drinks in a bar just off Wenceslas Square.  We stayed out drinking long enough to decide to head over to the Fair.  At least I knew where I was going.  Back to the metro, another fight with the ticket machine, another few stops and we were back in the industrial part of Prague as evening arrived.  Deja vu.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Fetish Fair, second attempt, Prague.
The fair was pretty small, and although there were one or two stands that had some well-made S&M equipment, there was nothing that really tempted me to part with any money.  There were a few stage shows, but although I can appreciate the aesthetics of shibari (Japanese rope bondage), it doesn't really make much of a visual spectacle.  I bumped into a Dutch couple that I'd seen in Hamburg and Berlin, the latter of which I'd had a great time fucking the lady of the couple in the middle of the German Fetish Ball.  We stayed drinking and chatting until midnight before catching the last metro home.  A much better end to the day than the beginning.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Sex Machine Museum, Prague.
Saturday was spent largely relaxing and resting my aching leg so that I could enjoy the fetish ball.  I had decided on my transparent latex gown and PVC thigh boots.  I was ready early and waited for my taxi in the old hallway of the apartment building.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - ready for the Ball, Prague.
A short taxi ride later I was outside the PM Club.  A quick glide through security and the cloakroom (thankfully - it would get much busier in just fifteen minutes' time) and a quick exploration around the club.  And it was quick - one main room, one small upstairs mezzanine, one small dungeon/playroom.  I found a space to stand without being jostled too much and enjoyed some people-watching.  There were lots of stunning Czech girls parading around, and when C and his Mistress arrived we actually managed to find some seats - thankfully, as my hip was aching quite a bit.

Although I'd taken my small camera I didn't take any photos - thankfully, as during one of the fashion shows the security team roughly man-handled a guy out who was filming the show - the snake.   Midway through the night I had a short wander to see if the playroom was busy - although three people in there would have made it full!  Another quick look upstairs, but soon returned downstairs when it transpired that all the seats and corridors were full - it left an impression that the club, although no doubt willing to host the night, was simply too small for the event.

After the fashion shows finished the long and wide runway remained in place, too, taking up much of the dancefloor.  I couldn't help but compare it to the fantastic German events were the clubs are set up correctly with room for socialising, dancing and (very importantly) playing.  It was a bit like a fetish social night, elevated only by the outstanding costumes on display by the attendees.

I did manage to make five hours at the event before my aching hip began to take its toll, and with little in the way of playing or dancing to entice me to stay, I decided to call it a night.

Home alone, then, and not even rude memories to take back to bed.  I settled in for my last night, falling asleep despite the racing Grand Prix outside.

I woke early on Sunday, got ready and packed everything up - I had to leave the apartment by 11.00am, but my flight wasn't until 4.00pm.  That left the best part of day to drag luggage around Prague.  I left the apartment on time, leaving plenty of money behind to cover the cost of the broken plantpot.  I headed back to Maitrea, taking time over a long lunch.

Afterwards I headed over to Prague's famous clock tower to see the astronomical clock do its thing on the hour.  I waited with a large crowd, the minutes ticking by.

On the hour, the clock went into action.  Well, action of a kind.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - a clock, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - a clock, Prague.
A bell chimed.  Some clockwork figures appeared in the windows.  A small skeleton rung a bell.  The hand moved past the hour.  It was over.  No doubt it was a tremendous thing when it was built, but perhaps I was expecting a bit more.

I decided the best way to take up the remainder of the day was with as little walking as possible.  I had seen a few odd vintage-styled cars tootling around the city over the last few days, and thought it looked a good way to see other bits of the city and have a rest from my aching leg and hauling luggage around at the same time.

I found a cheerful Czech chap called Peter, jumped in his car and we set off.

We headed over one of the main bridges back onto the side where the Palace was, the sights of the old streets glorious in the sunshine.  We passed another of Prague's architectural delights, the 'dancing house', brazen and challenging but still lovely as it nestled alongside old buildings.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Dancing House, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Dancing House, Prague.
After the best part of an hour we arrived at, of all places, bloody Wenceslas Square again.  "Have you been here yet?" asked my jovial host.  "Once or twice..." I replied, trying not to sigh too much.  I still couldn't resist another photo of the Grand Europa Hotel, though, with gathering clouds behind.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
We trundled off, heading over to see the moving head sculpture of Franz Kafka, but although we stayed for a few minutes he refused to look our way...

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - impolite Kafka, Prague.
... and on to Freud, still hanging from one hand and debating whether to let go or not...

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - dangling Freud, Prague.
Freud, of course, came up with the 'Madonna-Whore' complex, an idea still in vogue (Madonna... Vogue... get it?  No?  Oh, OK...).  I think I know what side I chose a long time ago...

It was a short hop back to our starting point from there, and time, too, to brace myself for the final taxi ride to the airport.  It was a bit more of a sedate drive back to Prague airport, I'm glad to say, and thankfully a more comfortable flight back.

Although the fetish weekend was a bit of a let down, I left Prague with memories of a truly fantastic city, one that I hope to return to.

I'll give the sciatica a miss next time, though.






Thursday, 1 November 2018

Pleasures And Pain In Prague... Part 1

A few years ago, after the loss of someone very close to me, I decided that I wanted to travel a little more and see some of the world.  I started in Berlin - all the way back in 2014. It seems longer ago - such is the eddying passage of time.  I was drawn not just by the city, but by the German Fetish Ball that is held there every spring.  What a great way, I thought, to see the fantastic cities of Europe and throw in a fetish event, too.  A bit of culture and a bit of kink.

I had such a, well, ball at Berlin and the German Fetish Ball that I went back there the following year.  After that I made it to Essen in 2016 (OK, not such a great city but a fantastic fetish event nonetheless) and then to Hamburg... er, twice - in 2017 and again earlier this year.  My grandiose plans to see the best of Europe were being foiled by the great German fetish parties that I wanted to revisit.

This year, however, I wanted to do something different.  Prague.  City Of A Thousand Spires.  I'd always wanted to see the fabled glory of the Old Town, Wenceslas Square (oh, but how I'd come to regret that in time).  The fact there was the Prague Fetish Weekend was, of course a bonus.  It was a bit of a difficult decision - Munich, another city on my list, was holding its own fetish weekend courtesy of Avantgardista on the same weekend... but those thousand spires were calling.

So, one Wednesday in the middle of October I headed to Manchester airport to begin my Prague adventure.  The flight was uneventful if remarkably uncomfortable - something else I was to regret a little later.  I honestly don't think I've ever flown in a plane with such hard, unforgiving and painful seats.  They were worthy of an S&M dungeon.  We finally touched down in Prague at 4.30pm local time and a lovely autumnal evening was beckoning.  I grabbed my bags from the carousel (flying fetish means never just having hand-luggage) and headed out to find a taxi.

Now, being a comprehensive-schooled child of the 1980s my language skills are... not good.  German, largely phonetic and with many sounds and word structures similar to English, can be understood to a point.  Czech?  Forget it.  I'd had the foresight to print out the address of my holiday apartment and handed it to my non-English speaking driver.  He read out the address (sounding nothing like I imagined it would), fiddled with his in-car navigation system, and set off.

Taxi drivers.  Don't you love 'em?  Sometimes found bumbling along motorways at 50mph, other times doing three-point turns in the middle of busy roads holding everyone else up ("It's allowed - I'm working"), double-parking outside peoples' houses waiting for their customers causing traffic jams, or doing 50mph through crowded city centres and 30mph limits.

My taxi driver was of the latter variety.  Somewhat, in fact like this...


Claude Lelouch's 'Rendezvous' - the legendary mad dash through Paris in a Mercedes, only mine was courtesy of a short taxi driver blasting through the busy streets of Prague at rush hour in a screaming Skoda Octavia.  At one point I glimpsed the speedometer - nearly 100kmh.  On a busy dual carriageway.  On the inside lane, undertaking other cars.  No, the outside lane, overtaking other cars.  No, the inside lane again, no the, er, squeezing between two cars bit... no, the inside lane... Then onto narrow streets as we approached the old town, still slipstreaming past other drivers and getting a racing line on corners cutting off other drivers that Senna in his prime would have been proud of.  "At least," I thought, "I'll get to the apartment in good time," as I clung on to the seatbelt as the tyres howled around another corner, undertaking two slow cars and just missing a tram.  And we would have made great time, if not for a colossal traffic jam over the Štefánikův most bridge.  We ground to a halt.  The minutes ticked by... which was a worry as I'd arranged to be met at the apartment by 6.30pm at the latest.  Not only that, but I had no food for breakfast, and knew that the shop I needed to get to closed at 7.00pm and was twenty minutes' walk from the apartment.

Finally the traffic cleared and 'Rendezvous 2' began.  A few quick mad-dashes between traffic lights (each treated like a Grand Prix start) and at 6.30pm we arrived at the apartment.  I had thrown my bags in the apartment, signed the holiday form and collected the keys off the owner in seconds, it seemed, and was now ready to head out to my next destination.  Now it was a 'Rendezvous' of my own, only a little slower than my Skoda speedtrip through the city.  I managed to run the 1.3km down through Wenceslas Square, (in heeled boots, if you please) squeezing though crowds of tourists and sightseers, just making my shop in time.  It was a rather slower walk back with my shopping in hand.

My first impressions were great.  The majestic buildings of Wenceslas Square in the muted glow of evening were magical and breath-taking... or was I just short of breath after my shop-bound sprint?

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Wenceslas Square, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Narodni Museum, Prague.
OK, my mood may have been helped by a bit of a sugar-rush courtesy of...

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - pleasures in Prague.
...but in reality there was no mistaking the stunning architechture of the beautiful old town.  Back in my apartment, things were also impressive...

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - apartment bedroom, Prague.
Time to hit the welcoming bed for a well-deserved sleep.

Or so I wished.  What I hadn't figured up to that point was that my lovely apartment was actually in the middle of what seemed like Prague's version of the Monaco Grand Prix.  All night cars bellowed full throttle and with blaring exhausts around the two main roads that surrounded the apartment block.  And the Czechs like their loud exhausts.  And driving fast.

On Friday I awoke to a slower but no less intrusive traffic hum from the rush hour.  Oh, and another gift, courtesy of my painful Easyjet flight - a pain stretching down my left leg and lower back.  Sciatica.  Lovely.

Determined to experience the city, I dressed (sensibly, in my low-heeled boots - too many cobbles, hills and too far to walk today for high heels) and set off to explore.

I headed back down Wenceslas Square, busy, it seemed, at any time of the day.  In the bright clear morning it looked... a little more disappointing that my first impression the previous night.  Chain stores, chain coffee shops and chain fast-food outlets dominated.  Only when you looked up over the garish modern shops did the real delights reveal themselves.  Towards the bottom of the Square (it's not really a 'Square' as such - more like a long and very wide rectangle) I turned off the main tourist route and headed towards the river.  Ah, much more like it.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - old town, Prague.
Stunning, beautiful old buildings lined the old cobbled roads with hardly any modern additions to the architectural delights.  A quick bit of history to explain (but most will perhaps know) - unlike many other cities around Europe, Prague was of course never bombed to smithereems in the Second World War.  It was annexed early on by Hitler (part of the lebensraum ideaology) and so, by the time war officially kicked off, was under German rule.  Not a stategic target for the Allies, it was left untouched.  After the war, the Soviet Union took over, unwelcomed, in the late 1960s and things, well, just didn't change from a visual aspect.  So, Prague remains - beautiful, largely untarnished, intruiging... an eccentric one thousand year-old lady struggling to keep her decorum in the blaze and glare of modern life.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - old town, Prague.
I finally reached the river after half an hour of gentle strolling through meandering city streets.  A Pub Quiz questioned that I shamefully wouldn't have known - what river runs through Prague?  The Vltava (of course...).

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Vltava river, Prague.
In the warming early morning sunshine the views over the river were wonderful.  In the distance a cathedral towered over the city, a stunning sentinel keeping quiet guard over the city.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - view over the Vltava.
"Right," I thought, "I'm going that way."

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
I decided to head back to Tourist Central - the Charles Bridge, to cross the river.  As busy as it was, it was beautiful.  Buskers (playing superb jazz and classical pieces, not warbling crappy old Oasis songs - are you listening Manchester?) and artists lined the bridge, brightening the shadows under the glorious statues.  The views were stunning, too.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Charles Bridge, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Charles Bridge, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Charles Bridge, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Charles Brisdge, Prague.
Over on the east side of the river the tourists gradually faded, although the old part of the city remained glorious and grand.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - some spires, Prague.
I continued up a steep road, stopping only for well-deserved sustenance...

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - gingerbread shop, Prague.
 ...or to take in the outstanding views as I climbed higher above the city.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort -Strahov monastery, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - view of Prague from the hill.
At the summit of the hill the streets were lined with glorious, grandiose buildings, and if it wasn't for the modern day cars parked up it would have felt .like stepping back in time.  It was certainly worth the long uphill trek.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Prague.
I headed towards the Palace and back to the crowds.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Palace entrance, Prague.
I looked for an entrance and signs for how much it would cost to go in.  I followed a few tourists past security (they check bags and jackets, like at a rock concert) and continued on, suddenly realising that I was now inside the beautiful Palace.  Free of charge.  For something like this in most cities there would be some costs involved, certainly.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - inside the Palace, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
I wandered into the cool darkness of the cathedral.  It was breathtaking.  Beautiful stained glass windows cast ethereal rainbows of light into the shadows.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
I lingered a while, enjoying the peace of the church, calming despite the throng of tourists milling around.

Outside, back in the warm October sunshine, I carried on my stroll around the Palace.  Looking at the exterior of the Cathedral I wondered if most of Prague's 'thousand spires' were here.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - Palace, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - some more spires, Prague.
Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - cathedral, Prague.
I finally left the pleasures of the Palace and headed back down through a long walkway towards the Vltava.  I found my way back to the Charles Bridge, now heaving with tourists.  I headed straight across, taking no time to enjoy the views through the sheer mass of bodies.  Back on the west side of the river I decided a late lunch was in order, and found myself at Maitrea.

I had a lovely meal in the tranquil restaurant, sitting on a few extra cushions to ease the pain in my thigh.  I rested for a while, my legs aching from the long walk (nearly 8 miles, much of it uphill) before heading back to the apartment.  I crossed Old Town Square, busy with large groups of Chinese tourists and, er, a somewhat large Panda.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - er, giant panda, Prague.
一路到布拉格看他妈的大熊猫
I think that translates as "All the way to Prague to see a fucking Giant Panda."  Which is what I expect they were thinking.

I finally found myself back on Wenceslas Square (yet again), fought my way through the gathering crowds (yet again).

Back at the apartment I decided to use the late afternoon light for a bit of modelling.  I slipped on my PVC thigh boots that I bought in Bruges a few years ago, a wide leather belt and pulled on some long nylon gloves.

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - PVC thigh boots, apartment, Prague.
All was going well until I decided to stand next to a window that overlooked the lovely Narodni museum.  A couple of quick snapshots...

Dexi Delite Altrincham and Manchester Escort - PVC thigh boots, apartment, Prague.
... and as I stepped back to the window to lower the window-blind I found myself face to face with three workmen who were re-paving the pathway outside the apartmet block.  They, in turn, found themselves face to face with a masked and naked lady baring her breasts for them.  They were more delighted with the exchange than I was, I could tell.  In my haste to close the blind I knocked one of the plant pots off the window-ledge, smashing it to pieces on the hardwood floor.  Another thing I'd come to regret, later...

I spent the rest of the evening relaxing and easing my aching legs.  There was still plenty to look forward to for the remainder of my stay in Prague.