Feeling satisfied with our explorations of Prague for the time being, we ducked out of our apartment and readied our bags for a train-trip to the nearby town of Kutna Hora. After frantically racing through Prague's main station, we got cozy in the train cabin with our cabin-mate (who, by the looks of his possessions and demeanor, seemed en route to a funeral). The ride was punctuated by fields of bursting sunflowers, purple and red poppies, cornflowers, and endless waves of wheat and barley. The town itself was quaint, its cobbled streets leading to an open square where our hotel was situated. We grabbed a bite to eat, and each downed a quintessential Czech beer, before heading out by foot to the Kostnice Ossuary. The building had the appearance of a small church-house, but walking over the cobblestone skull-and-crossbones at the threshold hinted at the macabre contents. Having previously been a dumping ground for the dead, the 40,000 human remains had become artistic fodder for a deranged architect by the name of Rint in 1870. Skeletons were transformed into a surreal and astounding aesthetic, filling the Ossuary's every corner.
One arrangement revealed the coat of arms of the family that had commissioned Rint, and we were obliged to take silly photographs in front of it, as seemed to be customary.
Here are some more bone pictures, in case you hadn't seen enough:
After spending the night in Kutna Hora, we caught the next train back to Prague.