I opened the heavy hotel door and stepped out onto the cobbled path that led towards the river. It was 6am on a day in early May and, zipping up my jacket against the crisp Prague air, I crossed the small square past the war memorial. Soon I was standing on the Manesuv Bridge which connects Mala Strana (Lesser Town) with the historic Jewish Quarter and Old Town.
I stood looking out over the peaceful Vlatava River for a while and then crossed the bridge slowly, drinking in the pale pink and blue vistas as the sun started to top the highest of the church steeples.
From the Old Town side I looked back over the river with the magnificent Prague Castle reflected in its calm waters.Seeing no one else around, I wondered why more people don't get up early to appreciate a city at its most beautiful.
I was soon approaching the Charles Bridge. The entrance gate stood out majestically against the sky as I walked onto the bridge, greeting the pigeons as I went.
Construction of the Charles Bridge started in 1357 under the rule of King Charles IV and was finished at the beginning of the 15th century.
As the only means of crossing the river Vltava until 1841, it was the most important connection between Prague Castle and the city's Old Town.The avenue of 30 mostly baroque statues situated on the balustrade forms a unique connection of artistic styles with the underlying gothic bridge.
Most of them were erected between 1683 and 1714 and depict various patron saints venerated at that time. I gazed in awe at these beautiful works of art, especially as I got further along and they too were silhouetted against the dawn sky.
Leaning over the rail looking down the river I could see the restaurant where we had enjoyed drinks the previous evening while watching the boats on their sunset cruises.
"We should do that this evening," I thought. Besides an early stroll, there is no better way to appreciate a city than from the water.
NATURE'S PAINTBRUSH
Leaving the bridge, I continued up through the cobbled streets of Mala Strana and was fascinated that the buildings were all a golden yellow. When I had seen them the previous evening they were all a regular white or cream, but that morning Mother Nature had dipped her paint brush into the golden sunbeams and painted them just for me. Superb.My last stop before going back to the hotel for breakfast was down at the riverside, where the swans gather.That morning, with no other tourists clicking away, I had them all to myself. The only sound was their preening and eating as they dipped their long, graceful necks into the glass-like river.
All of a sudden, the church bells started to ring. It was Sunday and, as I stood there in this magical place, I did what any self-respecting, 21st-century lady would do: I took out my cellphone and filmed the scene so I could share it with my family back home.A little later that morning, I walked back to the Charles Bridge with my travelling companions and joined the throngs of tourists (with their selfie sticks), mobile shopkeepers and jazz band.
I smiled, content in the knowledge that I had experienced this iconic sight at the best time of the day and all on my own.
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