Prague, Part 1

After stopping along the road for a lunch consisting of French fries and a big block of fried cheese, which is a Slovak specialty, we drove the rest of the way into Prague and returned the car to the agency.

            Prague will always be special to me, as it was my first European city. But, besides that, it combines a lot of what I like about other cities into one. It is both old and modern, in many way progressive, but proud of its heritage. It has a history of artistic expression, and a tradition of active student life. It is more diverse than many European cities that we’ve been to of late (Kyle commented that it has gotten more white the farther east we go), though, admittedly, it does have its problems with racism. Not nearly as damaged by WWII as many Bohemian cities, much of its architecture was left standing to tell the story of 1000s of years of empires and struggles, from the Holy Romans to the Soviets.

            The first thing we do in Prague is drop some laundry off at George’s (thank God), and help him carry water up to his apartment as they are turning his water off in a few days for maintenance. We check into our Bed and Breakfast, which George has arranged. It is very nice, with a large bedroom for Neil and I, and a private bath with a bathtub with a shower attachment. Neil and I even have our own little kitchenette.

            For dinner, we meet up with George’s friend Tony who we met at George’s wedding. He’s the one who reminded us of someone, but we couldn’t put our finger on whom. We finally figured it out when I said, “Rex!” Yes, I know that I’m comparing him to a dog, but I mean it in the best possible way. Anyway, Tony had been cherry picking that day, and he presented me with a small bucket filled with cherries, which was quite sweet of him.

            That night, we went for Czech food. George, Neil, and Kyle all had pig knuckle, which came out on their own individual spits. Tony shared his roast duck with me, as he wanted me to have strength for the train tomorrow, even though I still had about a pound of cheese in my stomach. Afterwards, we went to the oldest Pilsner pub in Prague. The soccer game was on and in overtime. We left.

            We meandered a bit and saw some of Prague’s nightlife around and beyond St. Wenceslaus Square. Everyone, tired and full, began to find their ways home. George tried to give directions from the metro that included the phrase “turn at Albert.” What he didn’t tell us was that Albert was a grocery store, not a road. So, we ended up wandering for a long time, as we didn’t even know the road name, since George had booked it. Finding out that even cabbies don’t seem to know where our Penzion is, Neil decides to run ahead to see if he could find it. And, believe it or not, he did. We all stumble the rest of the way there, then fall into bed to get some rest for Dresden tomorrow.