Last Sunday, after dropping off the various pets at their various carers, we flew to Prague, capital of the Czech Republic. I was hopeful of finding Kafka and crisp snow and receiving a little injection of some much needed Christmas spirit.
It turned out to be a packed week with plenty of walking as we visited the world's biggest ancient castle, an astronomical clock, churches and synagogues, crossed the Charles Bridge, wandered cobbled streets and alleys, enjoyed a delicious vegan dinner in a hard to find Buddhist centre, joined the city's residents as they welcomed three special visitors on St Nicholas eve, scoffed afternoon snacks of cakes and apple strudel with hot chocolate, meandered the Christmas markets with hands full of bags of roast chestnuts (which stubbornly refused to give up their shells) and cups of hot spicy wine.
Kafka was in evidence, or at least the bronze memorial to him (depicting the writer on the shoulders of a headless man without hands and feet) in the old Jewish quarter was. Although bitterly cold, snow wasn't quite so evident. No, it was falling at home instead.
There are now nine windows open on the Advent calendar
and I have such a very long 'to do' list.