Prague

Prague is a city that feels less built than remembered. Its streets wind like old sentences, spoken for centuries and never quite finished. Gothic spires rise above baroque façades, and the Vltava moves patiently beneath Charles Bridge, carrying with it the weight of kings, artists, revolutions, and quiet everyday lives. Once the heart of the Kingdom of Bohemia and later a key city of the Holy Roman Empire, Prague has long stood at the crossroads of European history—shaped by emperors, scarred by wars, and transformed by the Velvet Revolution, which gently returned freedom to its people without bloodshed.

Yet Prague is not only history carved in stone; it is a lived city. Cafés hum where writers once argued ideas, trams glide past buildings that have watched centuries pass, and life continues in the shadow of castles and clocks older than nations. It is a place where the past does not compete with the present but walks beside it.

Olga lived in Prague for eight years, long enough for the city to stop being a destination and become a home. She learned its rhythms—the quiet mornings, the golden evenings, the small corners tourists never notice. Because of those years, Prague became part of our story too. Choosing it as the place for our wedding felt natural, almost inevitable: a city shaped by love, endurance, and time, witnessing the beginning of our own shared history.