Prague: Quiet pub, loud family, surprise folk concert đź¤đź¤Ł
The journey from the sun-drenched Amalfi Coast to the heart of Bohemia was an exercise in controlled chaos, or rather, chaos expertly orchestrated by Andrea with enthusiastic support from Sharon and Flori. Patricia and Cathal had officially surrendered any lingering notions of a private, romantic escapade. Their honeymoon had evolved, or perhaps devolved, into a multi-generational family holiday with a surprisingly good, if occasionally overwhelming, live soundtrack. The train compartments buzzed with Andrea’s dramatic narrations of passing landscapes ("Look, darlings! That solitary cypress tree! It speaks of such profound, isolated beauty! I feel a sonnet coming on!"), Sharon’s constant distribution of "sensible travel snacks" (mostly Irish shortbread and Tayto crisps she’d somehow conjured from her Mary Poppins-esque handbag), and Flori’s non-stop photo-taking and eager questions about Prague’s history, directed mostly at a surprisingly knowledgeable (and patient) Patricia.
Jim, for his part, spent most of the journey with headphones on, either listening to obscure folk artists or, as Cathal suspected, high-frequency sounds designed to drown out his siblings. Caroline, ever the serene center of their whirlwind, read a book, occasionally offering a calm smile or a practical suggestion that was usually ignored in favor of Andrea’s more flamboyant plans.
"Our new strategy," Cathal had whispered to Patricia as their train pulled into Prague’s magnificent Hlavnà Nádražà station, "is to lean into the crazy. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em for a pint of pilsner and pretend you always wanted your entire family on your honeymoon."
Patricia had squeezed his hand, a genuine smile on her face. "Consider me leaned, Mr. Bonnar. As long as 'joining 'em' doesn't involve me having to play a kazoo solo."
Prague was, even with their boisterous entourage, undeniably stunning. The Old Town Square, with its astronomical clock and pastel-coloured baroque buildings, felt like stepping into a fairytale. Their accommodation, "miraculously" secured by Andrea through "an old artistic acquaintance who owes me a rather large favor," turned out to be a sprawling, slightly eccentric apartment near the Vltava River, filled with mismatched antique furniture, avant-garde sculptures (which Andrea adored and Jim eyed with deep suspicion), and enough bedrooms for everyone, just.
Their first full day was a whirlwind of "Corr Family Does Prague" sightseeing. Andrea led the charge to Prague Castle, declaring that the sheer historical weight of the place was "making her very molecules vibrate with lyrical potential." Sharon, meanwhile, was more concerned with the uneven cobblestones and the distinct lack of handrails. Jim found a quiet archway within St. Vitus Cathedral and claimed to be "testing its acoustic resonance for Gaelic chant," though Patricia was fairly certain he was just having a nap standing up. Flori, armed with her phone and an insatiable curiosity, managed to learn more about Bohemian history in six hours than Patricia had in her entire university course on European culture.
Caroline, as always, was a beacon of calm, ensuring everyone stayed hydrated and occasionally rescuing Patricia and Cathal from Andrea's more elaborate historical reenactments. The newlyweds managed to steal a few precious moments on the crowded Charles Bridge, surrounded by artists, musicians, and throngs of tourists. Leaning against a stone balustrade, watching the swans glide on the river below, Cathal slipped his arm around Patricia’s waist.
"Not quite the romantic, secluded moment we envisioned for our honeymoon, is it?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.
"No," Patricia admitted, leaning into him. "But if you ignore Aunt Andrea trying to direct a flock of pigeons into a 'symbolic V-formation for peace,' it's actually quite beautiful."
That evening, after a dinner that involved much debate over the correct way to eat svĂÄŤková (a traditional Czech beef dish) and whether its sauce would pair well with an Irish stout (Jim’s contribution to the culinary discussion), Andrea announced her plan. "Darlings, I've heard tales of an authentic Czech pub, a hospoda, not far from here. It's said to have the most traditional music, the heartiest beer, and an atmosphere positively dripping with local color! It's a cultural immersion experience!"