An Early Goodbye to My Smichov Studio

After just a little over a week of searching I have found what will be my new apartment as of July. I'll be relocating to a one-bedroom flat in a different neighborhood—Holesovice in Prague 7.

I had been thinking about a move since January—my needs (and more so my certainty about staying long-term in the Czech Republic) had steadily outgrown my charming studio in Smichov. It was time to stop living temporarily—a state I had clung to by not furnishing much and only thinking of the apartment as a place to cook and sleep. But of course it was more than a crash pad.

One of the difficulties of expat-living in Prague is making personal connections. I interviewed a shrink once for an article on depression among expats and she noted that many clients out of loneliness tended to socialize with people who were not always right or good for them. Some social settings and individuals left me cold; some sapped me of energy; promising connections sometimes never took off or were cut short by the other party leaving. Many times I preferred to be home alone in my cozy studio cooking or listening to music. Having a comfortable place to myself afforded me a getaway where I could reflect on my needs, my energy and my faults, to constantly refine my precepts about people and relationships. I think today my network of friends is better off for it.

Apartment 9 wasn't a perfect haven though. There was the toilet that occasionally emitted fumes so noxious they reminded me of stink bombs from high school. Luckily it knew better than to act up when guests were around. The oven with a mind of its own—arbitrarily switching off in the middle of a roast or bake job and causing me constant worry that I would someday suffocate from a slow gas leak or be burnt to a crisp from an explosion. The four different tram lines a stone's throw from my window—super for getting me wherever I needed to go but horrible for my sleep. The grating of the garbage trucks twice a week at about 6:45 a.m. And of course, my fair bit of crying about Jan.

These days I feel pretty definite about staying in Prague and I want a place to reflect this. Sure, I could just customize the studio a bit more—add a couch, hang up pictures, buy a bookshelf, personal touches, etc. But sometimes you just wake up and know when you're done with a place, when it has served its purpose—for which you're grateful—and that you're now ready to cut ties and move on.