Prague Never Lets You Go
It was already dark outside when we pushed open a heavy wooden door to enter a rustic brewery. While life on the street was dying down around this hour, inside appeared to be the contrary. The room was spacious to accommodate many. With its candle holders from the ceiling and warm light, the brewery radiated a welcoming atmosphere. If music were to be playing, the sound must have been lost within the loud laughter. We were seated in a booth in the corner. We could hear the autumn wind blowing around the thick fieldstone walls and sometimes leaves, which the wind had picked up, pattering them against a glass window.