An Ode To The Streets Of Prague

After a long, long day of walking, I just wanted to go back to my room and sleep, even though it was over 30°C and my room on the 18th floor barely had any ventilation. I was waiting for a tram in the square Malostranské náměstí along with a large crowd — all in their own little worlds. All kinds of people were walking about, and who knows the kind of day they had had? What did they see today, what caught their eye, what will they remember most fondly? It was almost midnight and things were starting to get drowsy, but there was still a residual cheery feeling in the air. I wasn’t sure if there existed a sense of community and belonging among this group of strangers, or if I was just terribly exhausted. I did notice how every person was standing with a group, or at least a companion, and it immediately reminded me of the Moroccan traveler Ibn Batuta’s words. When he had reached Tunis after a lengthy and arduous journey with a group of strangers, he wrote: <a href="https://cobbledstories.medium.com/an-ode-to-the-streets-of-prague-cf4a0dfd5e05">Click Here</a>