"Prague is bulging with history walks past baroque this and alchemical that, but here’s a hotel with its own guided tour. With the Augustine formed from seven terra-cotta-roofed buildings of the (still active) St. Thomas’s monastery, dating back to the 13th century, the walk takes you from the recently woven tapestry depicting the celestial zodiac above reception through meditative herb gardens, past beautiful stained-glass windows and along cloisters and into the church itself. It’s a baroque masterpiece, gleaming white and gold, with two Rubens paintings above the altar and frescoes in the dome high above; in one casket recline the skeletal remains of a saint wearing a metal mask. And then, all of a sudden, a door opens into the monks’ refectory and there’s a huge portrait of Debbie Harry looking down above a cocktail bar. Religious and pop iconography side by side. Do the four remaining brothers here chant ‘Heart of Glass’ in an idle moment? I didn’t dare ask. The Blondie moment came from designer Olga Polizzi, who added color and Cubist pizzazz when the Augustine opened in 2009. Tucked away behind walls near the river in the Mala Strana district, this exists in a world of its own. There’s a pretty courtyard garden with roses entwined around arches, a vaulted basement pub serving St. Thomas’s beer—once brewed by the monks—and a Turkish hammam. The restaurant, which spills out into the main sundial garden, is newly headed up by Jan Horak (formerly of Copenhagen’s Jordnaer and CottoCrudo across the river), who has tattoos of mushrooms and turnips on his arms and creates seafood- and vegetable-forward menus. Ask to see the Tower Suite, a former observatory with a spiral staircase up two floors to glorious views; most of the other rooms were made from two or three monks’ cells, furnished with 1920s illustrations and artworks, the occasional angular piece of furniture, marble bathrooms the color of mottled parchment, and a deep sense of calm. Lying in my bed after a night at the Ungelt Jazz Club, I fell asleep to the ASMR sound of trams trundling far below. A hotel that feels like a condensed version of Prague." - Rick Jordan