Charles Bridge, Prague

I headed to the bridge just as the sun came up, when I knew it was likely to be empty. In the early hours of morning, with the tourists and hawkers still asleep, the bridge is a different place. It’s a place out of time, and as I walked the bridge, looking for the perfect shot, I could hear Prague’s saints and martyrs whispering from a not very distant place. In this ancient city where the past is always close at hand, they seem to want to tell their stories. You only have to stop and listen.