Dresden

Dresden seems quiet this afternoon. I'm glad to be out of Prague. On Tuesday morning I crossed the river to see the Franz Kafka Museum (modernist author whose stories "concern troubled individuals in a nightmarishly impersonal and bureaucratic world", popular with Arts students and other troubled individuals - see Wikipedia). The museum is set in an attic with exposed beams and boarded-up windows, low ceilings, ambient lighting and brooding music. The exhibits are all in stark black and white: family photographs, facsimiles of manuscripts and personal letters, as well as audiovisual presentations based on his writings and ink drawings. It's all fairly well put together: claustrophobic and disorientating. And it seems to be a popular attraction. You don't have to walk far in the tourist areas to find a t-shirt with Kafka's face on it, looking like a vampire in need of blood. He's an odd choice for a city mascot, given he openly hated Prague despite living his whole life there. I suppose the museum didn't really put me in a mood to enjoy Prague, neither did the overly academic Czech novel that I'm still ploughing through - Love and Garbage by Ivan Klima. And neither did the obnoxious American who slept on the bunk beneath me, nor the nervous British woman who found the American hilarious. But it felt fitting to wander the streets aimlessly with a cigarette in hand anyway... Mmm. I went to a Salvador Dali exhibition near the Old Town Square, all lithographs and etchings. Yesterday morning I headed North across the river to the large-ish area marked "Prague Market" on my tourist map. It was a bit of a metro ride and a walk, and it turned out to be by far the most depressing market I've ever been to. Stall upon stall selling counterfeit street wear, lingerie and socks, flick-knives and a worrying number of knuckle-dusters. There were hardly any shoppers, and those who were there seemed as lost as I was. I bought a strange gelatinous soup from a caravan then returned to the city on the same 75-minute ticket. I decided that I wasn't going to change any more money for Czech Crowns, so I became frugal, passed on the National Museum, the Communist Museum, and the Don Giovanni marionette opera... Instead I packed some home-made wurst baguettes and went out walking at dusk. Yeah, Prague's a beautiful city. Stunning really. It's incredible to look out over the water and the see the castle high on the hill, lit up amongst the woods. But the circus atmosphere on the ground makes the city seem a bit unreal, like the buildings were just painted canvas to be taken down after the tourists go home. I came by train to Dresden today, just over the German border. The hostel seems a little friendlier here and the city may be a little less crazy. I want to take it easy before I get to Berlin on Saturday.