95 Best Sights in Prague, Czech Republic

This is Prague's signature monument, and quite rightly so. The view from the foot of the bridge on the Staré Mĕsto side, encompassing the towers and domes of Malá Strana and the soaring spires of St. Vitus Cathedral, is nothing short of breathtaking. This heavenly vista subtly changes in perspective as you walk across the bridge, attended by a host of baroque saints that decorate the bridge's peaceful Gothic stones. At night its drama is spellbinding: St. Vitus Cathedral lit in a ghostly green, Prague Castle in monumental yellow, and the Church of St. Nicholas in a voluptuous pink, all viewed through the menacing silhouettes of the bowed statues and the Gothic towers. Night is the best time to visit the bridge, which is choked with visitors, vendors, and beggars by day. The later the hour, the thinner the crowds—though the bridge is never truly empty, even at daybreak. Tourists with flash cameras are there all hours of the night, and as dawn is breaking, revelers from the dance clubs at the east end of the bridge weave their way homeward, singing loudly and debating where to go for breakfast. When the Přemyslid princes set up residence in Prague during the 10th century, there was a ford across the Vltava here—a vital link along one of Europe's major trading routes. After several wooden bridges and the first stone bridge washed away in floods, Charles IV appointed the 27-year-old German Peter Parler, the architect of St. Vitus Cathedral, to build a new structure in 1357. It became one of the wonders of the world in the Middle Ages. After 1620, following the disastrous defeat of Czech Protestants by Catholic Habsburgs at the Battle of White Mountain, the bridge became a symbol of the Counter-Reformation's vigorous re-Catholicization efforts. The many baroque statues that appeared in the late 17th century, commissioned by Catholics, came to symbolize the totality of the Austrian (hence Catholic) triumph. The Czech writer Milan Kundera sees the statues from this perspective: "The thousands of saints looking out from all sides, threatening you, following you, hypnotizing you, are the raging hordes of occupiers who invaded Bohemia 350 years ago to tear the people's faith and language from their hearts." The religious conflict is less obvious nowadays, leaving behind an artistic tension between baroque and Gothic that gives the bridge its allure. Staroměstská mostecká věž (Old Town Bridge Tower), at the bridge entrance on the Staré Mĕsto side, is where Peter Parler, the architect of the Charles Bridge, began his bridge building. The carved façades he designed for the sides of the tower were destroyed by Swedish soldiers in 1648, at the end of the Thirty Years' War. The sculptures facing Staré Mĕsto, however, are still intact (although some are recent copies). They depict an old and gout-ridden Charles IV with his son, who became Wenceslas IV. Above them are two of Bohemia's patron saints, Adalbert of Prague and Sigismund. The top of the tower offers a spectacular view of the city for 100 Kč; it's open daily year-round from 10 am to between 6 and 10 pm. Take a closer look at some of the statues while walking toward Malá Strana. The third one on the right, a bronze crucifix from the mid-17th century, is the oldest of all. It's mounted on the location of a wooden cross destroyed in a battle with the Swedes (the golden Hebrew inscription was reputedly financed by a Jew accused of defiling the cross). The fifth on the left, which shows St. Francis Xavier carrying four pagan princes (an Indian, Moor, Chinese, and Tartar) ready for conversion, represents an outstanding piece of baroque sculpture. Eighth on the right is the statue of St. John of Nepomuk, who according to legend was wrapped in chains and thrown to his death from this bridge. Touching the statue is supposed to bring good luck or, according to some versions of the story, a return visit to Prague. On the left-hand side, sticking out from the bridge between the 9th and 10th statues (the latter has a wonderfully expressive vanquished Satan), stands a Roland (Bruncvík) statue. This knightly figure, bearing the coat of arms of Staré Mĕsto, was once a reminder that this part of the bridge belonged to Staré Mĕsto before Prague became a unified city in 1784. For many art historians the most valuable statue is the 12th on the left, near the Malá Strana end. Mathias Braun's statue of St. Luitgarde depicts the blind saint kissing Christ's wounds. The most compelling grouping, however, is the second from the end on the left, a work of Ferdinand Maxmilian Brokoff (son of Johann) from 1714. Here the saints are incidental; the main attraction is the Turk, his face expressing extreme boredom at guarding the Christians imprisoned in the cage at his side. When the statue was erected, just 31 years after the second Turkish siege of Vienna, it scandalized the Prague public, who smeared it with mud. During communist rule, Prague suffered from bad air pollution, which damaged some of the baroque statues. In more recent years, the increasing number of visitors on the bridge has added a new threat. To preserve the value of the statues, most of the originals were removed from the bridge and replaced with detailed copies. Several of the originals can be viewed in the Lapidárium museum. A few more can be found within the casements at the Vyšehrad citadel.

This giant modern art hub makes up the trio of big-beast artistic institutions in Prague 7 that have seen the district christened the city's most creative, alongside the Trade Fair Palace and the Academy of Fine Arts college next to Stromovka Park. This one is arguably the most fun, from its witty slogans (emblazoned on the building and sold as postcards) to its often flamboyant modern art collection, via a discussion space located in a life-size suspended airship. Housed in a former factory, DOX is more than just a brilliant modern art gallery, though; it is also a cultural center aiming to put art at the forefront of modern ways of thinking about the world.

This free-to-enter (donations welcome) art gallery, set within a labyrinthine, brick-walled basement, houses an eclectic range of quirky, contemporary, and occasionally downright creepy artworks, from oil paintings to audiovisual installations. But it's one particular provocative sculpture that takes the headlines: David Černý's Brown-Nosers. Head through the rotating window out into the garden to see two giant, naked, lower halves of bodies, bent over at 90 degrees. Climb one of the two rickety ladders and peer "into" the sculptures to watch a video. In one of the videos—spoiler alert!—former president Václav Klaus is being clumsily spoon-fed human waste to the soundtrack of Queen's "We Are the Champions." In the other, he's the one doing the feeding. The scenes are a metaphor for the state of Czech politics, apparently.

The gallery is a 15-minute uphill walk from Anděl Metro station. Ring the buzzer at the door to be let in.

With its graceful, soaring towers, this Gothic cathedral—among the most beautiful in Europe—is the spiritual heart of Prague Castle and of the Czech Republic itself. The cathedral has a long and complicated history, beginning in the 10th century and continuing to its completion in 1929. Inside, the six stained-glass windows to your left and right and the large rose window behind are modern masterpieces; see if you can spot the contributions of art nouveau master Alfons Mucha. Other highlights include the Svatováclavská kaple (Chapel of St. Wenceslas); the Kralovské oratorium (Royal Oratory), a perfect example of late Gothic architecture; the ornate silver sarcophagus of St. John of Nepomuk; and the eight chapels around the back of the cathedral. Don’t miss the Last Judgment mosaic on the south side of the cathedral’s exterior, constructed from a million glass and stone tesserae and dating from the 1370s. It's possible to enter the cathedral for free to take in the splendor from the back, but for the full experience, buy a ticket and walk around. Cathedral entry is included in the combined ticket to see the main castle sights; an audio guide is highly recommended.

It's advertised as the most beautiful library in the world and delivers on the hype. The origins of this massive, ancient complex date back to the 12th and 13th centuries, but it's best known as the stronghold of the Jesuits, who occupied it for more than 200 years beginning in the early 1600s. Though many buildings are closed to the public, the resplendent Baroque Library is a hidden gem featuring fabulous ceiling murals that portray the three levels of knowledge, with the "Dome of Wisdom" as a centerpiece. Next door, the Mirror Chapel is a symphony of surfaces, with acoustics to match. Mozart played here, and the space still hosts chamber music concerts, as does the library itself if you're lucky. The Astronomical Tower in the middle of the complex offers stunning 360-degree views of Staré Mĕsto and was once used by game-changing astronomer Johannes Kepler and afterward functioned as the "Prague Meridian," where the time was set each day. Nowadays, you can visit the complex and glimpse the beauty, as well as some historic astronomical instruments, only on guided tours, which run every half hour. There is no elevator to the Astronomical Tower rooftop and the steps are steep, so you may want to avoid this section if you have walking difficulties.

If you've had your fill of Romanesque, Gothic, and baroque, this church offers a startlingly modernist alternative. Designed in 1927 by Slovenian architect Jože Plečnik—the same architect who updated Prague Castle and who almost single-handedly designed the modern city of Ljubljana—the art deco edifice of this church resembles a luxury ocean liner more than a place of worship, topped by a tower with an enormous glazed clock. The effect was purposeful, as during the 1920s and 1930s the avant-garde imitated mammoth objects of modern technology. The interior decor is equally striking, particularly the altar, overlooked by a 10-foot-high gilded figure of Christ, flanked by six Czech patron saints. It's hard to miss the structure, which looms as you exit the Metro.

While the front door (with a view of the interior) is open 9 to 5 every day, entrance is allowed only 45 minutes before and after mass.

This large, shady park offers a pretty view of Prague's bridges. From the enormous concrete pedestal at the center of the park—now occupied by a giant working metronome, which some say is marking time since the 1989 Velvet Revolution—the world's largest statue of Stalin once beckoned to citizens on Staroměstské náměstí (Old Town Square) below. The statue was blown up in 1962, just seven years after it was completed. In nice weather, there's a large and popular beer garden at the park's eastern end and Czechs and expats playing games on the grass. Walk east along Milady Horákové ulice after exiting the Metro or take the tram, or head up the hill from Staré Mĕsto if you want some exercise. At the back of the park, toward the home of the football club Sparta at the Generali Arena, there's a huge open space that is often used for the Czech Republic's largest protests (it's even bigger than famous Wenceslas Square), including those heralding the end of communism in 1989.

Located at the eastern edge of Karlín, this giant metallic female figure is the latest creation from Prague's master of modern sculpture David Černý, perhaps best known for the faceless babies climbing Žižkov TV Tower. Standing more than 24 meters high and weighing 35 tons, the figure is hugging—or seemingly holding up—the side of a modern apartment block. Take a stroll around to see other Černý artworks in a similar style, including giant arms and legs "propping up" elements of the building. For a uniquely strange experience, come at midnight to see Lilit's head rotate 180 degrees.

Sitting outside the castle complex, the sometimes-overlooked Loreta is home to one of Prague's greatest architectural treasures: a replica of the original Santa Casa, said to be the house in Nazareth where the Archangel Gabriel first appeared to the Virgin Mary. Constructed in the early 1620s and a place of pilgrimage for 400 years, the building is covered in spectacular stucco figures of Old Testament prophets and scenes from the life of the Virgin Mary. The cloisters surrounding the casa are also home to treasures of their own, including beautiful frescoes, sculpted fountains, and soaring bell towers. Look out for the Prague Sun monstrance, an incredibly valuable golden vessel encrusted with thousands of diamonds.

Housed in a grandiose neo-Renaissance structure that dominates the top of Wenceslas Square, the National Museum was built between 1885 and 1890 as a symbol of the Czech national revival. Indeed, the building's exterior is so impressive that invading Soviet soldiers in 1968 mistook it for parliament. The holdings are a cross between natural history and ethnography and include dinosaur bones, minerals, textiles, coins, and many, many other things. There are rotating exhibitions too, and the building itself remains a pretty spectacular draw in its own right. The gift shop has lots of treasures, too, including brooches made of the museum's original parquet flooring.

This incredibly moving monument to the seven Czech and Slovak parachutists who assassinated the Nazi "Butcher of Prague," Reinhard Heydrich, in 1942, tells their astonishing story—the movie Anthropoid is based on what took place—and takes visitors into the crypt where they made their last, doomed stand against the occupying authorities, underneath the Church of Sts. Cyril and Methodius.

This art nouveau palace houses one of the city's many elegant pasáže, in this case a hallway studded with shops, restaurants, a beautiful grand hall, and a music club. It is also home to a gorgeous cinema and a cheeky David Černý sculpture referencing the statue of St. Wenceslas in the square outside (to give you a hint, it's often described as the hanging horse). Even better, in summer you can go onto the roof of the palace, which is a treat for two reasons: one, the makeshift bar at the top, with great views and a good vibe, and two, the chance to ride in an old-school, slightly terrifying paternoster lift to get up there.

Hundreds of visitors gravitate here throughout the day to see the hour struck by the mechanical figures of the astronomical clock (although it's absolutely worth a look, don't be disappointed by the lack of drama. Focus on its astonishing age instead: it was first installed on the tower in 1410). At the top of the hour, look to the upper part of the clock, where a skeleton begins by tolling a death knell and turning an hourglass upside down. The 12 apostles promenade by, and then a cockerel flaps its wings and screeches as the hour finally strikes. This theatrical spectacle doesn't reveal the way this 15th-century marvel indicates the time—by the season, the zodiac sign, and the positions of the sun and moon. The calendar under the clock dates to the mid-19th century, although it's a replica rather than the original.

Old Town Hall served as the center of administration for Staré Mĕsto from 1338 when King John of Luxembourg first granted the city council the right to a permanent location. The impressive 200-foot Town Hall Tower, where the clock is mounted, was built in the 14th century. For a rare view of Staré Mĕsto and its maze of crooked streets and alleyways, climb the ramp or ride the elevator to the top of the tower.

Walking around the hall to the left, you can see it's actually a series of houses jutting into the square; they were purchased over the years and successively added to the complex. On the other side, jagged stonework reveals where a large, neo-Gothic wing once adjoined the tower until it was destroyed by fleeing Nazi troops in May 1945.

Tours of the interiors depart from the main desk inside (most guides speak English, and English brochures are on hand). There's also a branch of the tourist information office here. Previously unseen parts of the tower have now been opened to the public, and you can now see the inside of the famous clock.

The hype about Old Town Square is completely justified. Picture a perimeter of colorful baroque houses contrasting with the sweeping old-Gothic style of the Týn Church in the background. As the heart of Staré Mĕsto, the majestic square grew to its present proportions when Prague's original marketplace moved away from the river in the 12th century. Its shape and appearance have changed little since that time. During the day the square pulses with activity. In summer the square's south end is dominated by sprawling (pricey!) outdoor restaurants; during the Easter and Christmas seasons it fills with wooden booths of holiday vendors. At night, the brightly lit towers of the Týn Church rise gloriously over the glowing baroque façades. The square's history has also seen violence, from defenestrations (throwing people from windows) in the 15th century to 27 Bohemian noblemen killed by Austrian Habsburgs in 1621; 27 white crosses embedded in the square's paving stones commemorate the spot.

An unforgettable sight, this cemetery is where all Jews living in Prague from the 15th century to 1787 were laid to rest. The lack of any space in the tiny ghetto forced graves to be piled on top of one another. Tilted at crazy angles, the 12,000 visible tombstones are but a fraction of countless thousands more buried below. Walk the path amid the gravestones; the relief symbols you see represent the names and professions of the deceased. The oldest marked grave belongs to the poet Avigdor Kara, who died in 1439; the grave is not accessible from the pathway, but the original tombstone can be seen in the Maisel Synagogue. The best-known marker belongs to Jehuda ben Bezalel, the famed Rabbi Loew (died 1609), a chief rabbi of Prague and a profound scholar, credited with creating the mythical golem. Even today, small scraps of paper bearing wishes are stuffed into the cracks of the rabbi's tomb with the hope that he will grant them. Loew's grave lies near the exit.

Founded by the Premonstratensian order in 1140, the monastery remained theirs until 1952, when the communists suppressed all religious orders and turned the entire complex into the Památník národního písemnictví (Museum of National Literature). The major building of interest is the Strahov Library, with its collection of early Czech manuscripts, the 10th-century Strahov New Testament, and the collected works of famed Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe. Also of note is the late-18th-century Philosophical Hall. Its ceilings are engulfed in a startling sky-blue fresco that depicts an unusual cast of characters, including Socrates' nagging wife Xanthippe; Greek astronomer Thales, with his trusty telescope; and a collection of Greek philosophers mingling with Descartes, Diderot, and Voltaire.

This whimsical building, one of Prague's most popular modern structures, came to life in 1996 as a team effort from architect Frank Gehry (of Guggenheim Bilbao fame) and his Croatian-Czech collaborator Vlado Milunic. A wasp-waisted glass-and-steel tower sways into the main columned structure as though they were a couple on the dance floor—the "Fred and Ginger" effect gave the building its nickname, the Dancing Building. It's notable for a Gehry piece, as it's more grounded in the surrounding area than his larger projects. It now houses a hotel and top-floor restaurant, but even if you aren't staying or eating there, it's worth marveling at the building itself, either from the near side of the river or the far.

With its high-walled gardens and vaulted Renaissance sala terrena (room opening onto a garden), this palace displays superbly elegant grounds. Walking around the formal paths, you come across numerous fountains and statues depicting figures from classical mythology or warriors dispatching a variety of beasts. However, nothing beats the trippy "Grotto," a huge dripstone wall packed with imaginative rock formations, like little faces and animals hidden in the charcoal-color landscape, and what's billed as "illusory hints of secret corridors." Here, truly, staring at the wall is a form of entertainment. Albrecht von Wallenstein, the one-time owner of the house and gardens, began a meteoric military career in 1622 when the Austrian emperor Ferdinand II retained him to save the empire from the Swedes and Protestants during the Thirty Years' War. Wallenstein, wealthy by marriage, offered to raise an army of 20,000 men at his own cost and lead them personally. Ferdinand II accepted and showered Wallenstein with confiscated land and titles. Wallenstein's first acquisition was this enormous area. After knocking down 23 houses, a brick factory, and three gardens, in 1623 he began to build his magnificent palace. Most of the palace itself now serves the Czech Senate as meeting chamber and offices. The palace's cavernous former Jízdárna, or riding school, now hosts art exhibitions.

This sometimes overlooked gallery, boasting the National Gallery's The Art of a Long Century (1796–1918), as well as the art of The First Republic (1918–38), has a real claim to being the city's best. Touring the vast spaces of this 1920s functionalist exposition hall filled to the brim with quirky, stimulating, comprehensive modern and contemporary local art is the best way to see how Czechs surfed the forefront of the avant-garde wave until the cultural freeze following World War II. Keep an eye out for works by František Kupka, credited as one of the first-ever abstract artists, and other Czech giants like Josef Čapek. Also on display are works by Western European—mostly French—artists from Delacroix to the present, with paintings by Gauguin, Picasso, and Braque an unexpected bonus. But painting is only the beginning—also occupying the many levels of the museum are collages, cubist sculptures, vintage gramophones, futuristic architectural models, art deco furnishings, and an exhaustive gathering of work from this new century, some of which is just as engrossing as the older stuff. Also, watch the papers and posters for information on traveling shows and temporary exhibits.

Buried deep within the walls of Vyšehrad Citadel, this series of long, dark passageways was built by the French army in 1742 and later improved by other occupying forces, including the Prussians and the Austrians. A guided tour leads through several hundred meters of military corridors into Gorlice Hall, once a gathering place for soldiers and now a storage site for six of the original, pollution-scarred statues from Charles Bridge. Tours start at the information center, near the Táborská brána entrance gate.

Bedřich Smetana's symphonic poem Vyšehrad opens with four bardic harp chords that echo the legends surrounding this ancient fortress. Today the flat-top bluff stands over the right bank of the Vltava as a green, tree-dotted expanse showing few signs that splendid medieval monuments once made it a landmark to rival Prague Castle.

The Vyšehrad, or "High Castle," was constructed by Vratislav II (ruled 1061–92), a Přemyslid duke who became the first king of Bohemia. He made the fortified hilltop his capital. Under subsequent rulers it fell into disuse until the 14th century, when Charles IV transformed the site into an ensemble including palaces, the main church, battlements, and a massive gatehouse whose scant remains are on V Pevnosti ulice. By the 17th century royalty had long since departed, and most of the structures they built were crumbling. Vyšehrad was turned into a fortress.

Vyšehrad's place in the modern Czech imagination is largely thanks to the National Revivalists of the 19th century, particularly writer Alois Jirásek. Jirásek mined medieval chronicles for legends and facts to glorify the early Czechs, and that era of Czech history is very much in the popular consciousness today.

Today, the most notable attraction within the fortification walls is the Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul, the landmark neo-Gothic church that can be seen from the riverside. Head inside to see the rich art nouveau decorations, including carvings, mosaics, and figural wall paintings. Beside the church is the entrance to Hřbitov Vyšehrad (Vyšehrad Cemetery), the final resting place of some of the country's leading artists and luminaries, including composers Antonín Dvořák and Bedřich Smetana.

Traces of the citadel's distant past can be found at every turn and are reflected even in the structure chosen for the visitor center, the remains of a Gothic stone fortification wall known as Špička, or Peak Gate, at the corner of V Pevnosti and U Podolského Sanatoria. Farther ahead is the sculpture-covered Leopold Gate, which stands next to brick walls enlarged during the 1742 occupation by the French. Out of the gate, a heavily restored Romanesque rotunda, built by Vratislav II in the 11th century, stands on the corner of K Rotundě and Soběslavova. It's considered the oldest fully intact Romanesque building in the city. Down Soběslavova are the excavated foundations and a few embossed floor tiles from the late-10th-century Basilika sv. Vavřince (St. Lawrence Basilica, closed to the public). The foundations, discovered in 1884 while workers were creating a cesspool, are in a baroque structure at Soběslavova 14. The remains are from one of the few early medieval buildings to have survived in the area and are worth a look.

On the western side of Vyšehrad, part of the fortifications stand next to the surprisingly confined foundation mounds of a medieval palace overlooking a ruined watchtower called Libuše's Bath, which precariously juts out of a rocky outcropping over the river. A nearby plot of grass hosts a statue of Libuše and her consort Přemysl, one of four large, sculpted images of couples from Czech legend by J. V. Myslbek (1848–1922), the sculptor of the St. Wenceslas monument.

Looking like a freakish, futuristic rocket ready to blast off, the Žižkov TV Tower is easily visible from around the city and commonly makes it onto Top 10 World's Ugliest Buildings lists. The upper-floor observatory platform, reached by a high-speed elevator and open until midnight, gives a bird's-eye view of the numerous courtyards and apartment blocks that make up the city and has a selection of exhibits on the history and architecture of the building. There's also a bar, restaurant, and luxury one-room hotel up there. Once back down on the ground, look up its 709-foot gray steel legs at the bronze statues of babies crawling on the structure, which were created by local provocateur artist David Černý.

A jumbled collection of tiny, ancient, brightly colored houses crouched under the fortification wall looks remarkably like a set for Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Purportedly, these were the lodgings for an international group of alchemists whom Rudolf II brought to the court to produce gold. But the truth is a little less romantic: the houses were built during the 16th century for the castle guards. By the early 20th century, Golden Lane had become the home of poor artists and writers. Franz Kafka, who lived at No. 22 in 1916 and 1917, described the house on first sight as "so small, so dirty, impossible to live in, and lacking everything necessary." But he soon came to love the place. As he wrote to his fiancée, "Life here is something special, to close out the world not just by shutting the door to a room or apartment but to the whole house, to step out into the snow of the silent lane." The lane now houses tiny stores selling books, music, and crafts, as well as including some exhibitions on former residents and their professions (including some tucked away to the left of the entrance). The houses are cute, but crowds can be uncomfortable, and the fact remains that you are paying money for the privilege of walking down a narrow street. Within the walls above Golden Lane, a timber-roof corridor (enter between No. 23 and No. 24) is lined with replica suits of armor and weapons (some of them for sale), mock torture chambers, and a shooting gallery.

As you exit Golden Lane, you will also have an opportunity to visit Daliborka on the same ticket. This round cannon tower dates back to 1496 and gained notoriety through the centuries for its use as a brutal prison. Some of the instruments of torture used on its inmates, including the knight Dalibor of Kozojedy (for whom the tower is named), are now on display.

Inside, this church looks more or less as it did in the 12th century; it's the best-preserved Romanesque relic in the country. The effect is at once barnlike and peaceful, as the warm golden yellow of the stone walls and the small arched windows exude a sense of enduring harmony. Prince Vratislav I originally built it in the 10th century, though only the foundations remain from that time. The father of Prince Wenceslas (of Christmas carol fame) dedicated it to St. George (of dragon fame), a figure supposedly more agreeable to the still largely pagan people. The outside was remodeled during early baroque times, although the striking rusty-red color is in keeping with the look of the Romanesque edifice. The painted, house-shape tomb at the front of the church holds Vratislav's remains. Up the steps, in a chapel to the right, is the tomb Peter Parler designed for St. Ludmila, grandmother of St. Wenceslas.

The original church was built at the end of the 14th century, and the Czech religious reformer Jan Hus was a regular preacher here from 1402 until his exile in 1412. Here he gave the mass in "vulgar" Czech—not in Latin as the church in Rome demanded. After the Thirty Years' War in the 17th century, the chapel fell into the hands of the Jesuits and was demolished in 1786. Excavations carried out after World War I uncovered the original portal and three windows; the entire church was reconstructed during the 1950s. Although little remains of the first church, some remnants of Hus's teachings can still be read on the inside walls.

Not far from Zoologická zahrada v Praze (Prague Zoo), the public garden has a path in a greenhouse that first takes you through a semidesert environment, then through a tunnel beneath a tropical lake and into a rain forest; you end up cooling off in a room devoted to plants found in tropical mountains. Sliding doors and computer-controlled climate systems help keep it all together. The impressive Fata Morgana, a snaking 429-foot greenhouse that simulates the three different environments, has been drawing large crowds since it opened in 2004. There are lots of other areas in the huge outdoor gardens to explore, too, including beehives, a Japanese ornamental garden, and hilly areas with good views. The trails, including a scented trail and a nature trail, are pleasant as well. And don't miss the vineyard.

This is the main thoroughfare connecting Old Town Square and Náměstí Republiky; it's packed day and (most of the) night. Many of the street's façades are styled in the classic 17th- or 18th-century manner, but appearances are deceiving: nearly all of the houses in fact have foundations that, astonishingly, date back to the 12th century. Be sure to look above the street-level storefronts to see the fine examples of baroque detail.

Bordered to the north by Nové Město and to the south by Nusle, Vyšehrad is mostly visited for its citadel high above the river on a rocky outcropping. However, fans of 20th-century architecture—you know who you are—will find cubist gems between the area's riverfront street and the homes that dot the hills on the other side. Prague's cubist architecture followed a great Czech tradition: embracing new ideas, while adapting them to existing artistic and social contexts to create something sui generis. Between 1912 and 1914 Josef Chochol (1880–1956) designed several of the city's dozen or so cubist projects. His apartment house at Neklanova 30, on the corner of Neklanova and Přemyslova, is a masterpiece in concrete. The pyramidal, kaleidoscopic window moldings and roof cornices make an expressive link to the baroque yet are wholly novel; the faceted corner balcony column, meanwhile, alludes to Gothic forerunners. On the same street, at No. 2, is another apartment house attributed to Chochol. Like the building at No. 30, it uses pyramidal shapes and a suggestion of Gothic columns. Nearby, Chochol's villa, on the embankment at Libušina 3, has an undulating effect, created by smoothly articulated forms. The wall and gate around the back of the house use triangular moldings and metal grating to create an effect of controlled energy. The three-family house, about 100 yards away from the villa at Rašínovo nábřeží 6–10, was completed slightly earlier, when Chochol's cubist style was still developing. Here the design is touched with baroque and neoclassical influence, with a mansard roof and end gables.

Cross the tree-lined ravine known as Jelení příkop (Stag Moat) and you'll enter the castle through the northern entrance, emerging into the Second Courtyard. It was built in the late 16th and early 17th centuries under Rudolf II, who amassed an impressive collection of fine and decorative art, scientific instruments, and other treasures. The bulk of this was either looted by the Swedes during the Thirty Years' War, removed to Vienna after Rudolf's death, or auctioned off during the 18th century, but artworks that survived are displayed here. The Obrazárna (Picture Gallery) is currently closed for renovation, so a selection of highlights can be found in the nearby Císařská konírna (Imperial Stable).

Except for the view of the spires of St. Vitus Cathedral, the courtyard offers little for the eye to feast on. Empress Maria Theresa's court architect, Nicolò Pacassi, remade the Second Courtyard in the 1760s, and his attempts to impart classical grandeur meant a loss of earlier Gothic and Renaissance styles. This main sight here today is the Kohlova kašna (Kohl's Fountain), which was created in 1686 and restored in 2020. Look for the Eagle of the Holy Roman Empire at the top.