Roughly 155.79 miles (250.71 kilometers) separate Prague from Vienna. That's about the same distance, give or take twenty miles or so, from New York City to Baltimore, Maryland. Having made this commute from the one stifling city to the other more southern, sweltering city twice a month this summer, it surprised me how I could have forgotten how such radically different cultures can exist in close proximity to each other. Stepping out of the bus at Penn Station in Baltimore, I moved slower- partly impeded by the hot air, thick in its moisture and partly to keep pace with the relaxed, unhurried activity of the locals. New York City and Baltimore, though only separated by a few hours spent sweating in a stuffy bus, seemed removed vastly in time, space, and attitude. 

Temporarily dispensing of this information, I boarded the Vienna-bound bus thinking my weekend excursion to a country neighboring the Czech Republic would be just that- a view of a slight alternative to, yet essentially a mirror of the country with which I was familiar. Needless to say, I was mistaken. Forgive me for presenting the obvious as profound, but Austria is an entirely different country. This somewhat unremarkable and rather belated realization was reenforced when our bus slowed to a stop at the Austrian border to allow patrol officers to board and check our travel documents. Although I am fairly well traveled and quite familiar with the standard procedure, I was taken aback when a clean shaven, expressionless man demanded, "Passport," and sent me awkwardly fumbling in my bag and muttering words of apology in Czech until I produced the document in question. 

Vienna is a city of wide boulevards lined with stately Baroque buildings. The Imperial architecture is resplendent, imposing, profuse, and speaks to the enormous wealth of the late empire. On a very literal level, Vienna looks nothing like Prague. Never subject to a full-scale renovation such as Haussman's rebuilding of Paris, Prague has retained its grid-less city plan in which dark, tight alleys wind and meet at random. It has also not benefitted from profound wealth in its history, and therefor has remained in its unrenavated state, a largely medieval city with but a few examples of Renaissance and Baroque style architecture peppered throughout. 

This concrete level of visual difference between the two cities is directly tied to how each presents itself as a tourist destination. Vienna, relying on the easy recognition of a few of their title players (Mozart, Freud, Goethe), portrays itself as the heart of European culture and entices visitors to indulge in a cultural getaway in which they can enjoy renowned art, music, and architecture. During my weekend stay, I visited a few (of the many available) museums, attended a performance of Mozart's Don Giovanni, and spent hours marveling at the Hofburg Palace, and at each location was reminded by a tour guide or pamphlet just how significant the site/event was in the scheme of high European culture. At the opera, an usher went so far as to preemptively scold the standing section (of which I was a part) for behavior unfitting of the "elevated atmosphere" of the place. 

Prague, however, functions for the tourist much like a European Disneyland- masses flock to the castle and Old Town Square and are rewarded with endless unnaturally tasty street food and taps flowing with pivo (a kind of adult combination of cotton candy and soda). Prague seems to present a kitschy caricature of itself- a mere thematic representation of Prague meant to bate and satisfy tourists. While Vienna's tourist business revolves around its self-elevation, Prague markets itself as a medieval pub crawl. And although this may seem a self-degrading portrayal of a country that actually does have its shared of fine art and music (remember Mucha, Dvorak, and several other celebrities were Czech born), I now find it more honest and straightforward than Vienna's elitist presentation. Most tourists arrive in Prague with a precursory knowledge of the city and a plan to spend about two or three days perhaps exploring the castle and tasting the beer, which in its world wide fame has eclipsed any other interesting attraction/history in the mind of visitor. GIven the tourist's short visit and limited expectations, the city seeks to satisfy him/her with the 'idea' of Prague (which he/she has already determined in his/her head and which is perpetuated still by the city's image). Though it may seem cheap, a maneuver of a country whose economy depends on tourism, I think there is an ironic sort of honesty in the gimmicky and cliched way Prague presents itself to visitors. 

There are no airs, no pretexts, no illusions that tourist will leave the city with a deeper understanding of its people or culture. Prague is the Castle, Old Town Square, Charles Bridge, salty pieces of ham, cobblestone streets. And while as a pseudo-resident I know better, tourists leave at the end of their two day visit having seen this superficial Prague, feeling full, hungover (or still tipsy), and satisfied with their trip. What more could you ask for in two days?

I'm happy to be home...