Every major city in the world, including Prague, has tourist traps. They are the ten plagues of tourism. A flyer begged attendees of the travel conference NOT to write about a specific list of things you might encounter in Prague. It was a poxy list of touristic debris that somehow washed ashore here. This stuff fascinates me. A thousand years from now historians and geneticists will laugh and casually make sense of it all, pointing to dated social media posts by the millions of tourists that have passed through Prague in the last couple of decades.
Changes are afoot. Or oranges not really being from Florida. Trade routes and travelers have a way of changing global culture. Wifi only speeds that process up. It was extremely difficult to find anywhere to eat in the Old Town back then. We followed some British strangers and made our way to a beer hall that was catering to a film crew. Somehow we convinced them to serve us too.
There was one thing you could get on almost every street corner that summer, though. Both colors tasted exactly the same — something like baby aspirin. They were served in an inedible styrofoam-like cone.
But people were buying, happily. It was cold, and it was something to buy. Tourists were showing up with dollars to spend! You could see the wheels turning. And now, it seems that prophecy has been fulfilled. The tourists have come to Prague. They have shown up in summer swarms that cover the Charles Bridge and fan out over the Old City. Masses and masses of tourists, with all the schlocky accoutrements that follow.
Mere hours after arriving, I found myself surrounded by a very ecstatic band of Crocs-clad Hare-Krishnas. As I watched, fascinated, a group of hip hijab-wearing Moslem women clapped and sang along, taking turns to beat a bongo and shake a tambourine.
