Fantastically Monastic: Praha Part Trois

Remember that library I told you about? The one I found on Pinterest?

Well I went to it!!

Don't you love those times that you dream something up and then actually do it? Deliciously satisfying. So much more satisfying than making a plan and following through with it, even though the two are very parallel concepts.

I don't know. For me, I see the difference in that planning is some sort of construction that you have to or feel compelled to follow through with just because. A dream is an inspiration which compels you by its very irresistible nature to chase.

Plans that change are seen as failures or flaws.
Dreams can morph without any scent of derision.

Plans: Rigid
Dreams: Nebulous

The monastery which housed my beloved library was across the city on top of an impossibly large hill.

We (Sonya and I) and I were there twice, once at the start and once at the end.

The first time was just to explore.  We were actually under the impression that we were heading in the direction of Prague Castle. I'm still under the impression that we never found said castle. That is okay with me. Castles happen.

The monastery has these lovely crumbly, patched-up outer walls, a brewery, a chapel, a library, and the monastery itself.

From the gardens which surround it, though, the most beautiful view of Prague is to be found:

And, if you were willing to get a wee bit lost (somewhat intentionally), you would discover a small playground nestled within the gardens.

Very non-modern. I loved it.

A teeter-totter you stand on made with bent metal and halved tires (Sonya almost threw me off), a slide, and this weird spinny thing with wee bikes you pedal.

While both of those things were fun, my whole objective was that library.
Seriously, it was the only thing on the trip agenda that I suggested we do, and it was also the only thing I very well would have thrown a fit over if we hadn't gone to it. I'm not a priss. I just like books.

We set off on our last evening in Prague for my desired locale.
After a week of being ripped up feet-wise, this was no small feat (ha. feet/feat), and we did get disoriented on the streets and got caught back up in the garden.

But luckily, I found some nice Texans (leave it to me to find the only Texans in Prague) who gave us directions.

Booyah. Library.

You couldn't actually go in the library, so it was strictly a voyeuristic experience, but oh my gosh.

SERIOUSLY?! MOTHER OF BEAUTIFUL

Yes. I teared up. It happened.

At one point in our ten minutes there, a tiny Czech woman yelled at me, but neither Sonya and I have any idea why. And when I turned toward her and asked (facially) what the problem was, she began to chuckle, patted my arm fondly, and began chattering at me in Czech. Then walked off nodding to herself. Okay, babushka. Whateeeeeever you say.

The last thing to see up on that big wee hill there was a chapel. No pictures of it (not allowed), but it was tiny and ornate and had an organ at its heart, which Mozart (I am right about the name this time) played on. Our hostel mom told us about it. I guess sometime during her time in Prague (another ex-pat for the win), she went and played on it. Chills? Yeah.

Some final shots of the outside Monastic buildings.

Library outside

And just like that, I was content.

It's really not hard to make me pleased.

Give me (or let me see) an old book or ice cream (I better be handed that. Don't you tease me), and I'm all kinds of contented.