Stastny (boom) novy (bang) rok

The Charles Bridge, 11 p.m. on New Year's Eve:

And again, just after midnight:

There you have it: The biggest difference between New Year's in the U.S. and Prague, aside from the refreshing absence of Ryan Seacrest, is that the U.S. focuses on objects dropping in the build-up to midnight, while Prague was filled with the sights (and cracks and booms and fizzles) of fireworks going up.

I spent the last night of 2011 with the Special Assistant to the Blogger and my roommate, He Who Will Never Beat Me At FIFA 12. We took the Metro and tram to the Letna area and walked through the park which was along the May Day parade routes and, in 1989, the site of the largest rallies during the Velvet Revolution. People in small groups lit their own fireworks and headed toward the Metronome for a view over the Vltava.

We then walked to Mala Strana, which bustled with natives and tourists. They lit more fireworks and explosives and stopped at stalls to buy hot chocolate, tea, sausages and trdelnik (a pastry roll topped with cinnamon or almonds).

Fireworks in Mala Strana, more than an hour before midnight.

As midnight approached, tour boats pulled up close to the Charles Bridge. People checked their phones for the time -- but there would be no need. The boats blew their deep horns, which was the cue to cheer, pop open the champagne (or reasonable facsimile), and to cast their eyes skyward. Fireworks shot up from either side of the Charles Bridge; in less than 10 minutes the cloud of smoke from our side of the bridge obstructed much of the view from the other side. At any given point I could turn my head and see five fireworks shows going on.

There was no "Auld Lang Syne," and kissing your loved one (or nearest available person) is not a Czech tradition. I was told, however, that the Czechs believe that whatever you do on New Year's Day sets the tone for the rest of the year. Hope the PlayStation holds up.