It’s Tuesday afternoon on a hot June day in Prague. I’ve spent the last four hours sampling the streets and sounds of the fabled city and I am feeling my legs and, crucially, my stomach. I’ve come to the popular expat hangout Globe Bookstore and Café. It’s not as grand as I expect (the Globe reference has deceived me) but I’m not disheartened. I like the rugged, vintage feel, with creaking floorboards and homemade posters advertising local events on noticeboards and the backs of bookshelves.
A dimly lit hallway leads from the bookstore to the café. I settle into a seat outside in the shaded courtyard. The air is warm but not stifling. Occasionally a gentle breeze passes through and brushes welcomely against my clammy skin. An indie acoustic playlist filters through the windows, accompanied by the pleasant clattering of crockery. As I soak in the calm surroundings it then dawns on me: this is my happy place. It’s beautifully quiet, I am about to enjoy a pub meal whilst reading an unputdownable holiday book, John Mayer is on the playlist, and I am in Prague (a city long on my to-visit list) in just the most delightful bookstore-cum-café.
I place an order and return to my book.
A few minutes pass when the casually-dressed waiter brings out an order for another table. An alluring aroma follows him which stops me in my reading — the gorgeous whiff of freshly fried chips. My order of club sandwich and chips feels validated and cannot come soon enough. But first, the beer. I’ve ordered a locally brewed IPA which arrives in a dimpled pint glass. It’s refreshingly cold with a sweet, caramel aftertaste that lingers long on the palate. The meal soon follows and is equally delectable. I could stay here for the rest of the day.
Whilst eating I casually drift between reading and people-watching. There are three of us outside. An Asian girl sits opposite reading. Only a few pages of her book look left to read. I always feel that if I do nothing in a day but complete a book, the day’s a resounding success. I feel excitement for the girl that she may leave this place having completed her book. Go, girl! To my left is a Czech man who spends most of the time speaking on the phone. At one point I notice his head arched back, eyes closed and mouth pouting. Clearly the latest phone conversation is boring him stiff. To my horror his eyes open and he clocks me. He shakes out of his posture and I return to the last of my thick-cut chips. Not awkward at all…
I arrived here leg weary and hungry, and a little irritable. But I am leaving with renewed strength not just in my legs and stomach, but also my heart. Everything about this place, and this moment, has nourished my soul.