Looks like I’m not the only one who smitten with Ampelmann. Check out this post from Berlin-o-philia for Ampelmann’s glorious history, from uplifiting digital lollipop guy to show biz to big biz.

You can never go astray with an Ampelmann keyring, I say.

On the trip back from Prague – yet another 14 hour marathon (ok, technically it shouldn’t be this long, but we are shameless cheapskates and buy the tickets with four hundred different connections) – we find the time to compile the great, the wondrous List of Cool Stuff in Europe.

Thumbs up:
- coke in glass bottles
- how waiters always bring out a little glass of water with your coffee
- violinists who really get into it
- Ampelman, the jazzy green walking man on East Berlin’s traffic lights
- oversized novelty cheques (not necessarily a European thing but great nonetheless)
- Oktoberfest
- mango-flavoured beer
- free walking tours
- €5 bottles of vodka
- Haribos (German jelly lollies that look like deformed gummy bears with mashed-in heads. Especially the green ones)

Thumbs down:
- creepy psychopaths who call themselves artists
- cheesecake of all nationalities
- fake sand/grass in cafes/bars
- the grizzly old women serving beer at Oktoberfest
- walking tours that AREN’T free
- American tourists
- women with big hair who sit in front of you at concerts
- dog salons and dogs with hair clips
- the White Rabbit’s weird one-legged costume in Alice in Wonderland the ballet
- the killer exchange rate
- tooth-grinders in dorm rooms

But the palace is not the only bit of Prague that’s worth a squiz. We also saw Wenceslas Square, named for the first legendary king of Bohemia in the 9th century - the same square where a 21 year old law student burnt himself to death in 1969 in protest against the Russian invasion/liberation (depending on which side you’re rooting for).

Around the corner is the largest shoe emporium in Europe (7 floors of shoes!). And everywhere - EVERYWHERE - are tributes to Franz Kafka, the Jewish writer who was born and lived in Prague: Kafka coffee shops, Kafka souvenir stores, Kafka museums, Kafka tours, Kafka Kafka Kafka. Czechs must get sick of Kafka the way Salzburgers get sick of the Sound of Music.

When we could hear him over the din of visiting Dutch soccer supporters, our guide also pointed out just how new everything that looks old in Prague really is - for example, cobble stones that were made three years ago to look three hundred years old, and regular street lamps that will soon be torn down in place of 18th century replicas with actual gas flames inside (when the EU puts up the money for it anyway).

Next is the old Jewish ghetto, where the cemetery is enclosed by a three metre high wall, but the burial ground inside reaches heights of well over four metres in parts because of the sheer number of dead Jews who simply had to be lumped in one on top of the other.

Later we joined Ivan, two Americans and two Canadians for dinner in an underground medieval restaurant where the food is brought out on metre-squared trays and still costs half what it costs in the rest of Europe. But more importantly, they have so much beer there that the waiter brings you a second and a third even when you say you’re done.