Five Nights in Prague: Letting My Brain Breathe Without Shutting It Down

Written by Marco Townson | Founder of Bean

I’ve always said I don’t do “off”. Not really. Don’t get me wrong—I know how to rest, how to breathe, how to let go of the endless tabs open in my brain—but switching off entirely? Nah. Doesn’t suit me.

So here we are—five nights in Prague. Not a work trip, not a client meeting in sight. Just me and Benjamin, landing in a new city with a shared suitcase, a scruffy notes app of places to try, and a dog (Willow, obviously) left in very safe hands back home. And yet, as I sit here with a coffee in one hand and this blog taking shape in the other… this is my version of winding down. Letting the noise settle, while still letting my mind do what it does best: wander.

The arrival: controlled chaos & kind strangers

We landed late. The sort of touch-down where you’re holding your breath and watching the tarmac come closer. Benjamin’s phone—true to form—launched itself out of his hand and slid four rows forward, like it couldn’t wait to get off the plane either. Cue some very British scrambling and apologies.

We’d already scoped out Bolt before the trip, so the ride into the city was seamless—a quiet, thirty-minute journey with the kindest deaf taxi driver, who helped us load up and pointed us straight to the door of the hotel amongst what felt like a sea of identical doors. Proper gent. No fuss, just calmness. Bliss.

The first impression of Prague is a weird but lovely duality. The airport’s far enough out that you get a full stretch of billboard suburbia—Decathlon, Lidl, IKEA, and all the big hitters—but then, boom. The castle. It’s lit up so softly and grand that you can’t help but feel a shift. Like you’ve driven through everytown Europe and landed somewhere steeped in magic.

The hotel: a little design moment

Design Hotel Neruda lives up to its name. The staff? Polite, smiley, fluent in English—which helps when Duolingo’s got you saying things like “my mum is here” but hasn’t yet taught you how to ask for the loo.

The room’s quirky in a way that makes you smile rather than squint. There’s this glass lamp that looks like a blown-glass rainbow jellyfish, and its matching sibling on the bathroom door handle. It’s playful, not pretentious. The telly’s high up—which is perfect for lying back on that big marshmallow bed, checking your emails or winding down with a YouTube rabbit hole you didn’t mean to fall into. And the view? From our window you can spot the Petřín Lookout Tower—like Prague’s own little Eiffel moment—glowing softly above the rooftops.

Evening wander: walking without a plan

We didn’t crash straight away. We wandered into Malá Strana, over Karlův most, and down into Old Town. There’s something about walking a new city at night that makes it feel like your own. We didn’t have a set destination—just that soft glow of curiosity pulling us forward.

We stumbled on giant candy stores, windows filled with dried fruits and nut mixes, wine shops lit like galleries. All those quiet notes you make to yourself like “ooh, we’re coming back here tomorrow” with no intention of actually writing it down.

We wandered past the Schwarzenberg Palace, looped back through the quiet streets, and found this tucked-away restaurant down a flight of stone stairs—hOST. It was closed, but it’s bookmarked in our minds now. The best kind of find: accidental and promising.

Being present without powering down

You don’t need to switch off completely to reset. In fact, forcing myself to ‘not think about work’ has never worked. I’m not here to sell anyone anything, but I am here, writing this. Because this blog? This is me creating without pressure. Letting my brain do what it does. Process. Observe. Reflect. Share.

When you run a business—when you are your business, really—you never truly unplug. But you can choose how to show up. For me, that’s checking my inbox over a coffee, jotting a spark of an idea while riding the metro, or realising a layout I saw in a Czech window display would look gorgeous in a client’s brand deck.

This is how I recharge. Not by stopping entirely—but by changing the shape of my day. Breathing a little slower. Looking up more often. Letting the inspiration drip in gently.

Reconnecting through rhythm

More than anything though, this trip’s about me and Benjamin. We love travelling together. Always have. There’s a rhythm we fall into—walking side by side, silently observing, finding the side the locals walk on and naturally adjusting. We don’t do the big group tours or tick-box landmarks. We like the hidden shops, the markets, the local bakeries where nobody’s got a translated menu and that’s half the charm.

We’re not big spenders when we travel—but we are big feelers. And that matters more.

Tomorrow? We’ll probably head to Palladium Praha or track down a local supermarket, stock up on essentials and snacks, and no doubt find something unexpected that sparks a new thought. Because that’s what travel does—it unlocks doors in your mind that you didn’t know were shut.

If you’re reading this…

You might be someone who feels the same. Always half-switched-on, always thinking, always doing something—even when you’re meant to be resting. That’s alright. There’s nothing wrong with a brain that won’t sit still, as long as you learn to let it rest its own way.

For me, this blog is the rest. This is how I breathe. And if it brings you a little joy, a little perspective—or maybe even reminds you to take your own kind of break—then it’s done its job.

Speak soon,

Marco