Wicked Good Road Trip: Prague with the Bruins


By Mary Paoletti


The first thing that pops into my mind as Prague shows itself out the airplane window is: I'm back.

I was here once before. 2008.
The blatancy of how different the Czech Republic looks compared to my hometown is no less severe this time. This city shows its age gloriously. And the colors...(I can't even remember what colors Boston is right now)...it looks at first like everything is on fire. Rooftops are the color of an overripe pumpkin and underneath them the buildings are shades found in a box of saltwater taffy. It is unrealistic to American eyes. And it's making me hungry.

Coming up on the cityscape, I have to remind myself to exhale. There are sensory illusions all over the place: a KFC drive-thru, a McDonalds, a sign featuring NHL hockey players. But they're all tucked away inside 14th century baroque and gothic architecture. Bizarre. None of that is what I want to eat, anyway. The "pork knee" that's advertised outside on one of 15 restaurant chalkboards sounds promising.

Our cabbie (or whatever they're called in Praha) flies down a narrow cobblestone "street" I wouldn't even dare navigate on a bicycle. It's a rush. I'm no longer tired.

Okay, that's a lie. I'm exhausted. But I'm being assaulted by nostalgia and excitement at the same time and that's enough to get me through the day.

Bruins morning skate starts at the O2 Arena in 20 minutes. I don't know if we're going to make it.

We'll make it.

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