All these will have to be siphoned off, I know, confined to either bag or bin in the next few hours, but right now I have more pressing concerns on my mind; when I heft that crucial first pint of black and white commercialism in some Czech bar at six bells this evening, what exactly will I be toasting for the months ahead?

Good health? Housemates who can cook? That Czech bars might accept some of that Monopoly money that’s been skulking at the bottom of my bag for months?

There were certainly plenty of reasons driving me to place Charles University on that Erasmus form way back when, but they since seem to have been swallowed up in the clutter of everyone else’s.

Yup, it seems everyone has an opinion on the City of Spires, whether they’ve been or not is of minor relevance. Booming nightlife. Great tourist location. Friendly people. One of the most romantic cities in the world. Oh, and the architecture! I appreciate a nice building as much as the next Irish undergraduate, but I swear I’ve heard so much about the bloody architecture at this stage that unless the next cathedral sporting winged buttresses shrugs out of the ground and actually takes flight I resolve to remain unimpressed.

Inexplicable rage towards inanimate buildings aside, of course I had reasons for applying for Prague. For one, CU offered plenty of courses that I actually might be interested in doing. For another, not only is Prague beautiful but it can also be beautifully cheap, and as a student I find the prospect of being able to buy a loaf of bread without going caving under the carpet for change very appealing.

The Czech Republic is also fairly centrally located on the continent making it a perfect base for travel, and with friends on Erasmus cropping up all over the EU I doubt I should be stuck for a friendly coach. Then there’s the famed pub culture – OK, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind Irish nightclubs. I enjoy the fake mist, strobe lights and being sweated on as much as any Limerick head, and I’m sure I’ll find plenty of that over there too.

And, OK, the city itself. Not the architecture – just the fact that Prague is one of the best preserved historical cities on the continent. That’s…cool. (Exhaustion trumps eloquence at this hour of night, OK!?)

So here I sit, boxes glaring at me, half-squirming excitement and half iron certainty that I shouldn’t be let outside without my mammy in tow. And the one thing I keep thinking of? That crucial first pint in Prague, and whether it will signal the beginning of a story I’ll tell for years to come, or a spate of untagging on Facebook. Maybe both?

Either way…to architecture!