Where is the street, where are the cars?

The other day me and Domik stepped away from our regular path and turned into this winding and little steep road paved with coble stones and lined with trees and gardens. For me it is a charming piece of Prague, as if it was some strange fold that kept the 19th century in itself. One reason is that it is a protected area for natural sights. It is a village inside of Prague. My friend lives here. She lives in a garden similar to one of these, in a kind of a cottage house, with her growing family.
Mummy, mummy, give me a hand! Mummy, where is the street, where are the cars? Domik chattered as we started to climb up. So his view of home, place where he feels save, is already determined. How can he feel uncomfortable in such a poetic spot? No cars, no people! That is it. It is empty, no sign of motion, too many hiding places where weird creatures can poke their heads out and who knows what else!