The Restory Retreat Centre

As Matilda has already indicated, one of the most difficult things to do after you’ve visited a country is to return and convey something of what you’ve experienced. How do you show a city’s many faces, introduce its inhabitants? How do you tell of the effects a history has on people and of a stance towards life that can actually not be translated into words? In the case of Prague, it is very helpful to have someone like Jara Cimrman. ~ ~ v ~ ~ Petrin Hill, on the left bank of the river Vltava running through Prague, is in many ways a site worth visiting. Climbing the 299 steps of the Petrin Tower, inspired by the Eiffel Tower, gives you one of the most beautiful views of the city. But by going down into its basement, you enter into the psyche of the Czech people. Here, quite unobtrusively, is the museum for the “ Genius, who has not become famous ”. Matilda and I almost stumbled onto it by chance and as we went through the exhibition, our amazement over this brilliant

We humans need a year to end and the accompanying start of a new one. In nature too Winter gives way to  Spring. There’s Birth and Death. Start and Finish. Sunrise and Sunset. These are all thresholds of sorts. And these are the more obvious ones; the ones we consciously anticipate and experience and hopefully have the chance, wisdom and time to plan for. A new year especially gives us a chance to try again. To start over. To leave things behind and to begin anew in this brand new unlived space consisting of another 365 and a quarter (I think) days. But there are also the more subtle doorways during the course of one’s life. When we move form one stage to another not really aware that we have stepped over a threshold. It is often only in retrospect that one realises this. Or notices this in others. The period of my  driving kids to school—a whopping 21 years - has just ended with the event of my youngest son becoming the proud owner of a driver’s license and  his very first set

How does one tell about Prague? Three weeks of Prague? You try but know you’re not doing it justice. Also one doesn’t show too many photo’s. Someone else’s travel pics are hardly ever gripping stuff. So, you tell about the historical background, the art, the music that’s everywhere: on market squares, street corners, bridges. In churches and chapels. You tell about the dark periods of war and communism that left  scars throughout the city. About the river, the legends, the funeral of Vaclav Havel. You marvel at the many many sculptures everywhere: on bridges, against walls, inside walls, on rooftops. Sculptures as pillars for roof structures, sculptures that grace the corners of buildings, or crown them. Sculptures kneeling, praying, dancing, suffering. You tell about a strange sculpture of a dead horse hanging upside down from it’s legs with the knighted St. Wenscelas sitting on it’s stomach. It hangs from the ceiling of an Art deco palace where a movie theatre shows poster

Christmas before last,  I asked George to write me a Christmas story. He obliged with the beautiful  story below. It forms part one of the complete story, as you’ll see, because as I started to comment on it, a strangely wonderful thing happened: my comment  turned into a sequel!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Flying planes                                                                                                                                      Flying birds                                                                                                                                    Flying angels                                                                                                                                  Flying imagination