As the aeroplane took off, leaving the wondrous city of Prague behind, the two passengers either side of me retrieved journals and new notebooks from cabin luggage and began writing furiously. One happened to be my handsome happy man (who was using my pen) and had an idea for a novel based on the 14th, 15th, 16th Century architecture and churches we had soft-stepped into, open-mouthed in wonder. I had taken to praying for my nearest and dearest in each magnificent structure whereas he had eyes only for the art.

The lady in the pretty Aztec dress and South of Ireland lilt to my right bent over her journal, covering it with her hand any time I as much looked out the window. She crunched an apple and seemed to be filling in diary entries or appointments from several months before. I wondered.

Having no use for my pen, my ideas seeming to have dried up this long, long time I began reading my novel ‘In the Name of Love’ by Patrick Smith. Said handsome man looked up from his backwards notebook (leftie) to comment on how fast I was flicking pages. In this time of confusion and felt stagnation I am soaking up words all the faster in order to arm myself.

The first three days of my six day trip to Prague were spent worrying. Worrying about going back, my career non-starter, my decisions, my still living at home, people’s opinions. I think my friends want to shake me I have been in this boat forever.

I lit candles in the Sedlec Bone Church and took a pew before the Child of Prague. I bantered about teaching and other sensible steps I have no urge to take with my travel partner and tried to see what I wanted to be.

A bone and skull pyramid, plague bodies in Bone Church, Kutna Hora.
A bone and skull pyramid, plague bodies in Bone Church, Kutna Hora.

I gave up and tried to count my blessings which are many, I appreciated the cobbles, the huge Cathedrals and rich cemeteries. I enjoyed the holiday canoodles, the mini apartment we shared with a bathroom each, our balcony with a view of red tiled towers and roofs. We had a go at the Czech cuisine of Beef goulash and Fallow deer and potato dumplings galore. We took a train and a tour, we shared a carriage with a Canadian girl and an Australian couple whose travels were far greater than ours. But willed the loud Australian not to probe on ‘what I did.’

I listened to stories and history and gazed at beautiful things, tried and tested and sipped, smiled and laughed and whispered and hoped. I think I might be coming across self obsessed and whiny and that so isn’t my aim. I’m trying to reawaken my blog and get used to writing again, also keep my eyes and my heart open and hope.

Vysehrad Cemetery
Vysehrad Cemetery

I was sad to leave the beautiful sun soaked cultural Czech Republic and I am craving a return already. So as I tuck my trusty bum bag away until my next trip (!) and smile at my trinkets and photos, I take this last unexpected day before returning to the bookshop where I work. I try to get my thoughts in order and my heart in the right place. I ask you to be patient with me. I’m experiencing and living and slightly restless. I will get there or at least find the words use my talents and enjoy the journey.


Author: Fiona @ lifelyricslemoncake

4 thoughts on “Cobblestones”

  1. Beautiful Fiona , you’ve created a beautiful picture of you and that lovely other half of yours on your journey… Don’t sweat the small stuff , smile your beautiful smile , keep being your beautiful self and you will find your rhythm in what ever you choose Loved reading this XXX

  2. I said to myself after reading this which was a joy to read as I’m in no way a reader or writer,and I thought how difficult dear niece you must find it to send a postcard ! Wish you etc. love

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