Row, row, row your boat; along the river Vlatva we go

Even the name Prague conjures up fantastical images of castles perched on misty hills, crotchety nobility, and let's not forget the infamous defenestration of 1618.

I was last in Prague seven years ago for 48 nightmarish hours. New Wu's theorem: Probability of Misadventure= 1/available cash. I didn't have much cash, and so the misadventures multiplied, from the night train, which stopped in a small town outside of Prague at three in the morning with no intentions of going further, to a near mugging in the subways, and an uncomfortable night in a hostel with two traveling companions whose animosity toward each other grew exponentially over the two days. Nevertheless, it had seemed like a magical city, and I looked forward to returning.

No night trains this time. Steve and I found a small hotel, centrally located hotel through hotels.com weeks before our arrival. We leave Berlin on Monday morning, and by early afternoon, we checked into the Hotel Raphaello, pleasantly appointed, although our room faced the street. That night, we took the tram to the castle, even though things were closing down. We had dinner on the way home, in one of the restaurants rated by Lonely Planet as top five most romantic. Led down a flight of stairs into a basement room that might have once been a wine cellar, we dined on wild boar and pheasant, washed down by excellent Czech beer. The apple streusel, with a side of vanilla ice cream, and drizzled by sweet liquor, was the best I've ever had. Things were looking good.

...Except, the Prague I remember has turned into Euro-Disney: Prague. The castle is still loftily perched on a hill. The Charles Bridge still picturesque, but everywhere we go, there are exchange cambios and sighs advertising the best rates, shops hawking "Bohemian Crystal," "Czech toys" which look suspiciously like Russian toys, and all manners of price gouging, in the best capitalist fashion. It was not until the evening of the second day of our stay, on a walk along the River Vlatva, downstream from the castle and high on an embankment along the river, with not an exchange cambio in sight, that I again felt the magic and charm of the city. The setting sun lit up trees and grass in the park; church bells rang, lovers occupied benches in niches along the path, and it could not have been a more perfect summer evening.