I’ve just read over what I wrote yesterday. Sorry for all the typos - I’ll try to do a bit better this time.

Charles Bridge, leading to Mala Strana, the old district below the castle, is one of the city’s icons, lined with fancy statues of saints. Every so often a statue has a beggar underneath - all are middle-aged to elderly men, down on their knees on the cobbles. One has a dog, a healthy-looking German Shepherd cross, which looks at me in that unsettling Anubis-like way of intelligent dogs, with eyes that seem to weigh your soul - earning my spare change. (I don’t know whether beggars here work for the local mafia like they do in Bangkok - until I hear otherwise I’ll assume they don’t.)

Dogs seem to be popular pets in Prague. Bangkok is another city of dogs - but strays, abandoned or street-born, living in their doggy world, dependent on man’s scraps but not owned by or loyal to man. I miss seeing them: they’re another layer of otherness, a reminder of the eternal mystery of animals.

The weather is sunny and warm. It’s a long, steep hike up cobbled streets to the castle, past more eye candy. My favourite building on the way up the hill is the Italian embassy, which has splendid silver-embossed doors flanked by a pair of huge, somehow louche-looking stucco eagles - a fine pair of bouncers.

The castle isn’t so much a castle as a sprawling collection of palaces and other buildings, including St. Vitus Cathedral. I’m finding out the literally hard way that cobblestones are far less comfortable to walk on than the asphalt pavements I’m used to. Feeling every edge through the soles of my boots, I stagger ever more feebly around the centuries-old splendour of the castle, taking in the exhibition of freaky Mannerist paintings in the gallery and the ponderously ornate extravaganza of St. John of Nepomuk’s (no, I hadn’t heard of him, either) tomb in the cathedral (it contains 2 tonnes of silver, according to my guidebook).

In the ‘History of Prague Castle’ exhibition I’m impressed by the grave clothes of Ferdinand I, which look like something the Black Adder would wear, complete with a large black velvet codpiece tailored in the at-attention position - just the thing to wear when you go to meet God. The crystal-pommelled coronation sword is nice, too.

The Old Royal Palace is a classy, empty Gothic loft-like space with hexagon-paned leadlight windows, tracery ceiling and an oak floor which feels like walking on pillows after all those fucking cobblestones.

Limping back across the bridge north of Charles Bridge, I receive the blessing of St. Christopher, in the form of a shop selling cushiony and not-unstylish walking shoes at a reasonable price. There’s one pair left in my size. Wearing them out of the shop, I skip lightly back towards the old town square, stopping along the way to sample an alzirska kava, which is a large drink in 3 layers - egg liqueur like advokaat on the bottom, coffee in the middle and cream on top. It’s delicious and tummy-warming.

I finish off the day by going to two evening recitals in the mirror chapel at the Klementinium, the Jesuits’ college. The ticket seller gave me a student discount, even though I said I wasn’t a student - maybe I just look poor enough to need the discount. The chapel is a small, very ornate hall with a pipe organ. The music brings the Baroque interior alive. All that marble, gilding and statuary makes sense in the context of magnificent music. The ghost who walks with me suggests that Baroque decoration is by its nature a setting for a performance, whether of music or ‘just’ of life, and suffers more than most styles when emptied out and left as a museum-piece shell.

One of the concerts is organ, soprano and saxophone. The other is organ, violin and cello. The middle-aged lady cellist rocks out, body and soul, like Angus Young’s classical kindred spirit.

As my contribution to recommendations for dining and drinking in Prague, I recommend the vending machine outside the chapel, which dispenses a perfectly acceptable hot chocolate for 10 koruna - about a fifth of what you pay in the cafes in the area.

It’s dark, cold and raining outside. Another taxi home.