Tourist -

"Three days to see a thousand years of history," she mused. "You’re not a tourist; you’re a ghost. You’re drifting through without touching anything."

The sun wasn’t even up when Elias pulled his suitcase over the cobblestones of Prague. The sound—a rhythmic clack-clack-clack —echoed against the silent, gothic facades, making him feel like an intruder in a sleeping giant’s bedroom. tourist

He stayed there for three hours. He missed breakfast. He missed his 09:00 walking tour. He sat on a stool, watching the light shift across the square, listening to the chime of a dozen different grandfather clocks in the room around him. "Three days to see a thousand years of history," she mused