The choral singing was nuanced, the orchestra flawless, and the soloists powerful yet with a sophisticated blend. The elegant Sunday night performance of Mozart’s “Requiem,” took about an hour and seemed typical of the plethora of concerts that are available at almost every hour of the afternoon and evening in the fascinating city of Prague.

Wherever you turn in the ornate warren of streets that Mozart knew, the people handing out fliers aren’t promoting sale prices or religious gatherings, as they would be in New York, they’re hawking concerts.  Or they’re giving one. Just sauntering the streets, I heard everything from a Baroque trumpet duet to a 1920s jazz band. It was the extra spice I needed to make my visit to this venerable city truly memorable.

Steeped in history, much of it oppressive, Prague is proud of its heyday in the 14th century, when King Charles (Karel or Karl) IV, a descendent of the King Wenceslas of the Christmas carol, built the city into one of the continent’s most prosperous cultural centers. Karlstejn, the 14th-century fort-turned-palace on a hill overlooking the city, shows the visitor a beautiful renovation with stunning views of the metropolis, although little of the original furnishings remain and the king never lived there. But the palace symbolizes a time when Prague was a leading European city, a role Czechs seem eager to regain for their capitol.

Sadly, the earlier heyday was shortlived. The Thirty Years War in the 17th century decimated the population, by some accounts cutting it in half. Religious infighting, similar to Northern Ireland today, where possession of power and money depends on your brand of Christianity (here, the Catholics had the upper hand) killed 2 million Czechs, more than in World War II. The tiny country with its distinctive language was variously lumped by kings and emperors into forced unions with Hungary, Austria and Slovakia. Its history reads like an uneven seesaw, as the Czech people repeatedly rebelled and were crushed.

A visit to the Museum of Communism (ironically located above a McDonald’s and next to a casino) documents the pain of the recent past. Its economy battered by the U.S. Depression and its population out of work, the country turned to Communism, only to be cruelly oppressed. People were forced into labor camps, the country’s natural resources were pillaged, and the environment degraded. Life expectancy jumped five years once the yoke of the Soviets was removed.

Repeated, stubborn resistance, mostly by young people (several of whom were horribly martyred) resulted in the final concessions by the Russians in 1989, and the Czech Republic was born. With its acceptance into the European Union in 2004, the country now seems to be on the upswing.

So is Prague. Although in places the Communist architecture is evident, the city is vibrant and booming. Next to my hotel, an old building was being gutted, leaving only its shell, then rebuilt; the worked carried on from early in the morning to close to midnight. Glorious restored buildings are everywhere, the streets are clean and pedestrian-friendly, and the pickpockets of a few years ago seem to have disappeared.

For me, one great fascination was the variety of churches and, of course, their music. I started in the Cathedral of St. Vitus in Karlstejn Palace, whose stained glass windows are extraordinary. Perhaps most interesting is the window over the altar, which interestingly shows the crucified Christ in the arms of his father, rather than his mother. The organ is original, if restored, but I had no opportunity of hearing it. Still, we were treated to a soprano and archlute duet on the way in; in the courtyard, an accordion band played familiar music, and a piano and flute concert was offered in the early afternoon.

Interred in the cathedral is St. John of Nepomuk (1345-1393),whose fascinating (although apocryphal) history the guide detailed. The queen’s confessor, he refused to divulge her secrets to the king, and was killed as a result. His martyred body was discovered by fishermen, and an elaborate silver tomb was constructed for him in the cathedral, a thing of fearsome ornateness. (Some argue that the move was intended to weaken the Czech regard for John Hus (1317-1415),  who was burned at the stake for preaching doctrine similar to that of Martin Luther.

Still more ornate was the Church of St. Nicholas in Mala Strana (the Little Quarter) — not to be confused with the one on the Old Town Square — which is distinguished by incredible Baroque decorations that defy the imagination. Every inch of the interior is sumptuous, starting with the lavish fresco on the ceiling (Europe’s largest), and continuing to the overwhelming multitude of figures and decorations that startle the eye everywhere. The organ is said to have been Mozart’s favorite; of course, it has been restored since, but I heard a pleasant hourlong performance there. The manuals are heavy on upperwork while the pedals are not, creating a slightly schizophrenic feel; the concert spanned the ages, and the classical music Mozart would have preferred definitely sounded best.

Other must-sees are, of course, the Charles Bridge, where St. John of Nepomuk is prominently figured — it is variously said that if you touch him you will return to Prague, or if you touch his right side you will have safe travel over water.

Also of interest is a collection of buildings that together comprise a Jewish museum. The Jews have a long history of persecution in Prague predating the Nazi occupation; during the Holocaust, 80,000 Jes from the region died. Their names are movingly inscribed on the walls of one of the synagogues; outside, the crowded gravestones of Europe’s oldest surviving Jewish cemetery underline the tragedy.

There are so many other things to see and do, including the Mozart Museum and the Kafka Museum. Indeed, the hotel in which I stayed, the Mercure, is in the building that used to house the insurance company for which Kafka worked. His former office, now a hotel room, still includes photos of women who were important in his life.

The Mercure, for a relatively modest price, affords a central location and a relatively small room cunningly crammed with every convenience including air conditioning — a commodity at a premium in this city. None of the sights, shops or restaurants I visited was artificially cooled. If you visit in summer, be prepared to sweat. On my June visit, I was able to eat outside for every meal, in pleasant surroundings; particularly enjoyable (if pricey) was the Kampa Park Restaurant, right on the river that divides the town (the river is variously called the Vltava by the Czechs and the Moldau by others, including Smetana fans).

Some warnings: Tourism is relatively new to Prague since it escaped the Soviet grip. Vary few signs are translated; sometimes, menus aren’t either. The maps available are frustrating: Sights are listed on the side of the map in English, French and German, but you can only find on them on the map if you know their Czech names, and can read these unfamiliar words in tiny print. My Lonely Planet guidebook was the same — the index, for the most part, only listed Czech names for things like the Charles Bridge and the Prague Castle, so you have to page through the book to find them. The city is a warren of crooked and unexpected streets, making navigation even harder.

But the unexpected beauty of the facades I stumbled across as I struggled to find a given destination more than made up for these problems.

Happy Traveling!

Captions: 1. Classical concerts abound in Prague, and this performance of Mozart’s “Requiem” was easily accessible, if not exactly cheap. 2. Even outside the concert hall, music is everywhere. 3. Karlsbad Castle is one of the “must-sees” in Prague. 4. Touching the relief of St. John of Nepomuk on the Charles Bridge is good luck. 5. The beautiful Moldau River divides the city. (Photos by Thomas Simonet)