Praha

While agreeing with all of Jannie's sentiments about Prague, I would just like to relate an observation about the city and my favourite Kafka novel, The Castle. As we all know, Kafka grew up in Prague, and it is above the city that indeed stands an imposing castle, although not one in the classical sense, one of thick walls and turrets, but one of a very definite aloof grandeur.

Leading to the castle from "Charles' Bridge" is a very steep, windy road, lined with shops and from which the castle seems close, but elusive as it continually disappears behind another shop, and in fact vanishes somehow just at the very end.

One can easily imagine Kafka, struggling with tuberculosis, making his way up this long and arduous road, and getting the inspiration for his masterpiece.

The other observation is that the Castle, while grand from a distance, is indeed somewhat plain from the inside, and actually quite hollow. The inner courtyard is barren, its emptiness entirely hidden from the outside. Like biting into a limp apple, the beauty of Prague lies in the imagination.