As we left the hotel and walked down the street toward the Charles Bridge a group of young men with well developed thighs in skin tight bike shorts passed us going the opposite direction. Were they training for a particular sport, perhaps out for a physical fitness run, we decided to disregard these questions and just enjoy the view.
In the plaza below the bridge we watched a leanly muscled lad create objects on an anvil using traditional blacksmith tools. The following day we did purchase an iron ornament for our wall at home from a box of seconds on the pavement at the adjoining stall, imperfect, but perfect for our purposes.
We joined the throngs walking across the bridge and filling the streets that fanned out from it's twin towers. We browsed in a tiny antique shop located in one of the venerable builds lining the streets, which we also returned to later during our visit, chatting with the woman minding it. We stopped in a church snapping pictures with our phones basically behaving as the tourists that we were.
Heading back to the hotel we both mentioned how we could go for ice creme on that warm, sunny afternoon. As we were talking about it I saw, across the street, a small cafe with a large picture of an ice creme cone in it's window. We sat outside on the cushioned benches the cafe provided relaxing, people watching and enjoying the sun and a sherbet treat.
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