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The only other city in Europe that comes close to being as perfectly beautiful as Prague is Venice. Thanks to various enlightened rulers, Prague enjoyed a number of golden eras, during which magnificent squares and cultural institutions were built. It all started with Charles IV, who during the Middle Ages established the first University of Central Europe. Only in 1918 did Prague become the capital of an independent Czechoslovakia, and from the end of World War II until 1989, it was ruled by the Soviet Union. But since the Velvet Revolution, when liberation came peacefully, Prague has seen great changes, and at times with so many of its buildings being restored, its beauty seemed hidden beneath scaffolding. Ian Fisher, Prague bureau chief for The New York Times, wrote of walking Prague during that time as “like watching a black-and-white movie turn into color. Whole blocks of buildings were reconstructed, painted, reinhabited, not just downtown but in regular neighborhoods.”

During the 1990s, tourists started to flock here, especially college-age backpackers and recent graduates drawn by the cheap beer and hotel rooms. Soon, a youth hostel building boom followed, and then low-cost European airlines began flying to Prague from most other major cities, and the Czech capital became famous for raucous drinking weekends. (Again, that cheap beer.)

Today, though, the party has simmered down and most of the extraordinary architecture has been restored after decades of neglect under Communism and the damaging floods of 2002. And there are enough luxury hotels and gourmet restaurants to guarantee an indulgent experience, whether you’re looking for a romantic weekend or a heady cultural fix. Perhaps best of all, fairy-tale-looking Prague is in no danger of becoming a mere tourist attraction. For, unlike Venice, which has been losing full-time residents by the thousands every decade, Prague is growing, with one of the most dynamic economies in Eastern Europe. The theaters and coffee bars teem with venture capitalists, entrepreneurs and real estate investors, along with musicians and artists, a new generation with no desire to live in the past.

Reminders of the atrocities committed here are everywhere, from the Jewish Cemetery to tales of blood spilled on the Charles Bridge, and yet the building facades are so romantic and cheerful that reconciling the city’s past with its present beauty is so unfathomable that it’s almost Kafkaesque. The author was born here, and an acceptance of the unbelievable seems almost ingrained in its citizens. Even former president Vacláv Havel said early in his first term, “I am the kind of person who would not be in the least surprised if, in the very middle of my Presidency, I were summoned and led off to stand trial before some shadowy tribunal, or taken straight to some quarry to break rocks.” And yet it is this surreal quality that leaves such an indelible impression on travelers and residents alike.