Last night, everyone in Prague attending the King’s Parade lucked out. The weather was fabulous with only a few clouds in sight, and the rain finally gave way to the sun peaking behind grey skies, perfect setting to see the ancient tradition still being carried out. The parade is a reenactment of the transferring of the King’s jewels from the Prague castle to his summer castle in the mountains, much better than your average renaissance festival in the US where the renaissance never even happened. This is 100% accurate in location.
For this event, I had a rather hard time trying to get quality photos. There was so much to see, so much movement, and so little time to prepare for a photo! I was half disappointed that I didn’t dress in armor for the occasion, myself. Because let’s face it, what’s more fun than joining the charade? (On a side note, in the future, I’m forcing my family to come to this dressed in the proper attire.) But, regardless of time or fashion, as the pushy tourists followed the king through the streets exiting the castle, over the St. Charles Bridge, through Old Town Square, and finally stopping in a small grassy park, I buzzed along side the procession, restlessly. Running in front, behind, climbing on trash cans, squatting on curbs, taking pictures was a difficult task against my spontaneous hyper ADD personality that wants to look at EVERYTHING all at the same time. The parade was so energetic I found myself on adrenaline dashing after knights, horse riding “royalty”, and other goofy renaissance-y characters.
My absolute favorite was the jester. This guy did his homework. His character was absolutely perfect running this way and that, harassing people, smiling in the oddest ways. The best thing however is he didn’t ever use words, only sounds and gestures. I thought it was a great way to include everyone no matter what language you speak. His goofy agenda was universal, everyone understood his humor, and I found it delightful.
However, there was a specific moment during the parade that I specifically recall as enchanting. As the parade broke over onto the St. Charles Bridge, the sun setting in the background, I could barely make out the tip of the opposite side of the bridge over the crowd with the city of Prague exploding this way and that behind it. In that moment amongst the chaos and characters comparable to carneys, I thought what a wonderful place. The city is so rich with history it is unbelievable. Prague fosters a sense of community that respects its lineage, yet encourages things yet to come.