This is ridiculous. The castle in Prague is officially the largest ancient castle in the world, and I can’t find it. My appalling sense of direction has me disoriented in the narrow cobbled streets below it, where a jumble of squat-fronted shops sell postcards, beer and saucy T-shirts. Finally, I summit a steep street and there it is, vast, strong and imposing, as castles ought to be. It dates back to the year 800 and has served Bohemian kings, Roman emperors and now the president of the Czech Republic. You can explore the grounds without a ticket, but it’s worth the fee to enter its various grand rooms, the on-site cathedral and Long Street, a narrow lane of shop-houses where craftsmen once smelted swords, carved wood and ran bawdy bars. A Czech flag was fluttering on the castle roof, which was a little disappointing. A few years ago, fake chimney sweeps stole the flag and raised a giant pair of red underpants to protest against their government’s support for Russia. That’s one of ...

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