Rattling skeletons and cursed daughters: a weekend in Prague

Over the weekend I travelled the furthest away from home I’ve ever been, spending two days in Prague. I took three cameras and a pair of walking boots with me, and came back with blisters and very, very many photographs of architecture. I love architecture, and Prague is an ideal place to make pictures of buildings: for example, from one spot outside the Municipal House, seven different eras of architecture (baroque, art nouveau, brutalist…) can be seen.

The title of this post comes from two Prague legends – if there’s anything I’ve learned on this trip, it’s that the city is home to many ghosts, literal and figurative. Hundreds and hundreds of years of history, bloodshed and music, can be read on the buildings, in the cobblestones, in the frozen bronze faces gazing down.

I’m still figuring out the best way to show the internet the pictures and art that I make, so I’m throwing them all up here for the time being.

Here are my scrapbook pages from the weekend:



Taken with the Diana Instant Square:


Taken with the Olympus:


Taken with the La Sardina:

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