I stumbled across it long before coming here, when I was looking at study abroad options last summer. To be completely honest, I didn’t believe it when I read it. The world he describes felt unreal, mystical. I was simply skeptical. I didn’t believe it but I was intrigued by it enough to choose Prague in the end. But now that I reflect on the whole decision-making process… I’m giving myself too much credit. Prague, well, Prague chose me.

I’ve been here for four months and I now return to this letter. This weekend is my last weekend. Now, I can hardly believe that. But I can tell you that the world he describes in this letter is real. It exists, it’s here, and I’m glad I took my first real plunge into darkness to find it.

Because really, this place — Prague, Central Europe, all of it — it’s some kind of magic. Hidden at the heart of the continent, and yet… paradoxically SO off the map. No one really knows Prague where I’m from. To an unsuspecting, ignorant American, for their grandiose ideal of “Europe” it’s about as random and off the beaten path as it gets. But I am convinced that there is no other city with a rhythm this entrancing or with a history and austerity this glaringly beautiful. Hidden in the labyrinth of streets, alleys, passages, staircases, metro escalators, trams, background sounds, cigarette smoke, and drunken voices… you’ll find perspective. You’ll find solitude. You’ll find peace and you’ll find solace. You’ll get lost and you’ll find your way home. You’ll find home.

It’s a dream world, but it’s very much real. Believe me when I say it’s one you can tuck yourself away into late at night in a sleepy stupor.