Prague doesn’t let you go

There’s a quote often attributed to Franz Kafka: “Prague doesn’t let you go… this dear little mother has claws.” Spend enough time here, and you understand what he meant. The city isn’t just beautiful—it’s magnetic, mysterious, and quietly alive in ways that get under your skin.

A city of layers

Prague’s beauty is immediate—the gothic spires, cobblestone streets, and pastel facades—but its real magic lies in the layers you only notice after you’ve lived here a while. The rhythm of trams clattering across the Vltava, the smell of rain on cobblestones, and the way the morning light catches the sandstone of Old Town Square. Each day feels familiar yet subtly different, like the city is revealing itself one corner at a time.

The art of staying still

In a world obsessed with movement, Prague teaches stillness. It invites you to linger over coffee, walk without a destination, and let stories unfold slowly. The pace here is deceptively calm, but beneath it is a deep current of creativity—writers, musicians, and thinkers who draw from the city’s centuries of contradictions.

It’s a place where the absurd becomes ordinary: a jazz club in a 14th-century cellar, a Kafka museum across from a giant rotating statue of his head, or an underground art exhibit hidden behind a bakery.

The quiet pull

People often say they’ll visit Prague once, just to see it. Yet many return. And some never leave. There’s something about this city that seeps into your routine—the weight of its history, the warmth of its architecture, the gentle defiance of its people. It’s a reminder that beauty doesn’t always have to shout.

Kafka was right. Prague doesn’t let you go. It lingers, long after you’ve crossed the Charles Bridge for the last time.