After a few hours in Budapest, and memories of formerly lovely times whilst walking along the Danube, I decided it was not a good thing for me to remain there.
So I went to the train station, and Prague sounded like fun. I arrived last night, had a good Czech meal and then checked into what turned out to be a pretty crappy hotel.
Walking around today, I realised that the exquisite beauty of this city is great for people in love, as I was the last time I was in Prague.
But it's a bit of a different city if you're not. It seems to exacerbate whatever loneliness one might feel. As I found out last summer when I accidentally ended up in a brothel here, this city is absolutely packed with brothels and, as Ripellino wrote in his excellent book with a silly name, Magic Prague, it seemingly always has been.
I think there might be legitimate reasons why this city is so filled with brothels. And I'm also beginning to think there are probably good reasons why Prague's most famous citizen, Franz Kafka, slept exclusively with prostitutes.
Perhaps if things had gone a little better with a certain someone I had so anticipated spending time with in Serbia. But as too frequently seems to be the case, I think I screwed up yet another potential relationship.
Or maybe I'm thinking too much. I tend to do that.
Time to go home.