If you ever want to feel like the main character of a historical drama while also living on a student budget, study abroad in Prague. This city is both a fairytale and a fever dream, where centuries-old castles and cobblestone streets coexist with underground techno clubs and beer that’s cheaper than water. And somehow, it all makes perfect sense.
I landed in Prague expecting a gorgeous, culturally rich experience (which, to be fair, I got), but what I didn’t expect was how absurdly convenient life here would be. The public transport system is god-tier. Trams and metros are fast, reliable, and run so frequently that if you miss one, another one magically appears like it sensed your disappointment. And unlike the overpriced, sweaty chaos that is American public transport, a three-month unlimited pass here costs less than what I once paid for a single Uber ride back home.
Academically speaking, studying abroad is one of those things that sounds rigorous on paper but, in reality, is more about studying vibes than actual studying. My classes are interesting enough (shoutout to my Media & Society professor for actually making me think), but let’s be real—most of my education is happening outside the classroom. Walking past the Astronomical Clock, navigating grocery stores where I can’t read half the labels, learning that “cheers” in Czech is na zdraví and that it’s apparently a crime to clink glasses without making intense eye contact.
Prague is also home to some of the best (and cheapest) food I’ve ever had. Czech cuisine? Heavy, meaty, and built to keep you alive through a medieval winter, even if you’re just surviving midterms. Goulash, svíčková, fried cheese—it’s all delicious and borderline dangerous. But my personal favorite discovery? The legendary lunch spots near my office. There’s The Wok (stir-fried noodles that haunt my dreams) and an Italian place with pasta so good it makes me question my life choices.
And then, there’s the nightlife. Prague’s bar scene is elite, but what makes it different from other cities is how weirdly cool everything is. One night you’re in an underground absinthe bar, the next you’re at a five-story club where each floor is a different genre of music, and then suddenly, you’re in a speakeasy hidden behind a random bookshelf. My personal favorite experience so far? Drinking beer in a centuries-old monastery while looking down at the entire city, like some sort of medieval academic who just finished transcribing an ancient manuscript.
Of course, it’s not all perfect. The customer service here is...an experience. Cashiers will deadpan-stare you into questioning your own existence. Smiling at strangers? Suspicious behavior. And don’t even get me started on the struggle of getting coins back as change and standing there like an idiot trying to count Czech koruna while an impatient line forms behind you. But honestly? It’s all part of the charm.
Studying abroad in Prague is one of those experiences that doesn’t feel real until you leave. It’s cheap, chaotic, beautiful, and occasionally confusing—but that’s what makes it so great. You come for the aesthetics, but you stay for the sheer unpredictability of it all. And if you’re lucky, you’ll leave with a slightly stronger liver, a newfound appreciation for public transport, and at least one story that sounds too ridiculous to be true.
Would I do it again? Without question. Would I advise you to come with an open mind, a decent winter coat, and a tolerance for dumplings? Absolutely.
What was the most nerve-racking moment and how did you overcome it?
Easy. The first time I had to navigate Prague alone without Google Maps.
Now, before you judge, let me explain. I had gotten way too confident, thinking, Oh, I totally know my way around now. I take the 9 tram to work, I know where Old Town Square is, I got this. So, naturally, I left my apartment one day with 5% battery, thinking my vibes-based navigation system would get me where I needed to go. Spoiler: It did not.
I was supposed to meet friends at a café in a neighborhood I had never been to. I got off at what I thought was the right tram stop, confidently walked in the wrong direction for about 15 minutes, then realized I had no idea where I was, and my phone was now completely dead. No Maps, no messages, no lifeline. Just me, my terrible Czech, and a city full of streets that all looked the same.
Cue panic.
For a solid minute, I stood on the sidewalk looking like a confused tourist (which, to be fair, I was). I considered just getting on the next tram and hoping for the best. I even debated asking someone for help, but my Czech vocabulary at the time consisted of “hello,” “thank you,” and “one beer, please”—none of which were particularly useful in this situation.
Then, I remembered an important fact: Prague is full of trams. And trams have numbers. And numbers don’t lie.
So, I backtracked to where I originally got off, stared at the tram map like it contained the secrets of the universe, and found my salvation—the correct tram number heading in the opposite direction. I got on, prayed I wasn’t making things worse, and, miraculously, ended up at the right stop.
By some stroke of luck (or fate, or just basic spatial awareness finally kicking in), I found my friends, sat down at the café, and ordered the strongest coffee on the menu. Moral of the story? Prague is one of the safest, most walkable cities ever, but don’t trust your brain when it tells you it can remember street names in a foreign language. And always—always—charge your phone.
