2 posts tagged “prague”
Better late than never, right?
Right.
So here's my amazing 3.5 days in Prague . . .
Thursday
I arrived at the airport with no clue how to get to my hotel. I decided
to buy a 3-day public transportation pass, for which I needed Czech
crowns. At the ATM I was given an option of 100, 200, 500, 1000, etc
crowns. I realized I had absolutely no idea what any of that meant. "A
thousand sounds good," I said to myself, not knowing if I was
withdrawing 10 or 100 dollars. Turns out that 1000 crowns is about 40
bucks, so I could have splurged for the 2500 option. Oh well, next time.
After a much-needed nap (I had to wake up for my flight at 5 am) I was off to Josefov, the old Jewish quarter in Prague. I was using a guidebook from 1996, which told me that all of the synagogues were closed. Luckily I'm nosy, cause when I tried peeking into the windows of the Spanish synagogue I realized that it was open to tourists, and I bought a Jewish quarter pass. I walked around the synagogues and cemetery with Elissa, an undergrad from Penn doing her junior semester abroad.
Here's the Jewish cemetery, which is crazy in person:
One of my favorite parts of the neighborhood was this guy:
He was the ticket taker at the last synagogue, and for whatever reason he dragged me into his ticket booth and had me scan my ticket myself. He was laughing the whole time, and was just the sweetest old man. I wanted to hug him, but instead I took his picture. This made him clap his hands and say, "Prima! Prima!" Don't you just want to hug him, too?
I walked along the Vltava river, making my way towards the Charles Bridge. It was absolutely gorgeous at sunset. Even now, looking at my pictures, I can'ty believe how beautiful Prague is. Unfortunately the colors of the sunset did not come out nearly as vivid as they were in real life, so just amp them up in your mind to get an idea of how it looked.
Other people must have thought it was nice, too, because I haven't seen that many couples making out since le Pont des Arts in Paris!
I crossed the bridge and made my way up the super-touristy streets, popping in and out of shops selling crystal and marionettes.
I was looking for a good place for dinner, but was feeling a bit indecisive, so I settled for a cup of hot wine while I wandered. Why don't we heat up wine more often in the States? While wandering I found a second-hand English bookstore, where I picked up a newer Prague guidebook.
I used it (love Lonely Planet!) to make my way to a beer hall that turned out to be close to my hotel. There were no tables left, so the waiter sat me at a four-top where two Czech guys were already drinking. Studying the menu, I could not for the life of me remember what goulash was, but knew that I was supposed to eat it. I was a little nervous about the accompanying "white bread dumplings." Luckily the meal was good, but what was even better were the two guys I was sitting with, Daniel and Frank. After a few beers we started talking, which was not as easy as it sounds. They only know a few words of English, and I don't speak Czech. Daniel speaks some Italian and French, and Frank was able to speak although not understand English. So I spoke to Daniel in French and Italian, he translated it into Czech for Frank, who replied for the two of them in English! It was hysterical. Here's a photo of our beer slips, and a bit of the paper we used to assist in our communication. Note how many beers they had! Mine is the slip on the right:
And here's a picture of Daniel and Frank, somewhere around beer number 10:
They taught me the only two words of Czech I remember, pivko and naz drave (sp?), which mean beer and cheers, respectively.
After making plans to meet the next afternoon, I stumbled home, drunk on beer for the first time.
Friday
I woke up with a pounding headache, even though I'd taken the last of my Motrin somewhere around 4 am. I made my way to a pharmacy to buy Nurofen, which I prayed was headache medicine and that the pharmacist wasn't playing some cruel joke on me.
I took the royal route, which is the walk that kings used to take when visiting Prague, as it takes you past all the important monuments. I climbed three towers for the amazing views, saw a bride at the town hall, and met a really nice Czech girl at a coffee house who told me that Texans sound like they're chewing cud.
That first picture, of the stained glass, is particularly cool when you realize that the light on the right is just the reflection of the glass on stone, and is not actually a window! The fourth picture is the famous astronomical clock, and the next picture is the crowd gawking at it.
As I made my way through Prague Castle, the destination of the Royal Route, I felt very anxious and rushed. It was because I had agreed to meet Daniel and Frank at 4 pm at Loreta, a nearby site, and was not used to having to follow someone else's schedule!
Waiting for them at Loreta, I snuck this picture of angels in a chapel. Is it just me, or are they vaguely evil-looking?
Loreta houses the Santa Casa, which is the Virgin Mary's house transplanted by angels. It also has a treasury of insanely bejeweled monstrances and chalices, and a bell-tower with 27 bells that chimes on the hour in praise of Mary. Here's what it looks like from the outside:
Daniel and Frank had already had one beer when I got to them, and told me that the plan for the night was a drinking tour. I made it through four small beers, which, if you know me, you know is a whole lot of beer for me! They had a lot more, of course, and I tried to teach them the phrase "to break the seal" but I'm not sure they got it. They did, however, laugh their asses off when I told them about my need for Nurofen, and whenever I tried to resist another beer they would just yell, "Nurofen!" as if that was the answer to all my problems.
Maybe the reason they don't have hang-overs is the nasty greasy sausages that they eat. Okay, that Daniel eats. Notice Frank's disgust:
I was surprisingly sad to say goodbye when it was time to go back to my hotel. They were really fun guys. One of my favorite memories is when we were talking about the music that we like, and Daniel said he liked Night by Ture. After a few moments I realized that he meant Naughty by Nature, and started cracking up. He insisted that it's classic.
I was really touched by how they took me out and showed me Prague, and especially impressed by our success at communicating despite not sharing a language. It was exhausting, especially after 6 hours, but well worth it.
Saturday
I decided to get out of the city for a bit, and took a bus tour to Karlstejn castle, about an hour and a half away. The tour guide, Slima, told me about her problems with her difficult teenage daughter, and I tried to reassure her that it's not her fault, that it's the age. Still, it made me sad when she said, "But she hates me."
The castle was pretty cool, mostly because of its age. I love walking in super-old buildings, when the stairs have been hollowed out, and thinking about how many people had to walk on that very spot in order for the stone to get worn down that much. Also, the surroundings were pretty beautiful:
After getting back to the city I went up to the Strahov monastery, and impressed myself with the fact that I had finally figured out the public transport system. Those trams can be tricky!
The library at the monastery was so cool:
It had crazy things like preserved whale penises, and a whole collection of tree books. These were boxes that looked like books, made out of the wood of a tree, filled with the trees seeds, wood samples, leaves, fruit, etc. Such a cool idea.
Touring the monastery's small but lovely art collection, I noticed an insanely hot monk leading a group of Italian tourists. I trailed him, having all sorts of smutty fantasies that are really only fit for romance novels. I couldn't get up the guts to ask him for a picture because I thought it might be kind of tacky.
So I followed him. I'm terrible, I know. But here he is praying, on the left:
It had started to rain, and I felt a bit of grumpiness coming on. I walked to Petrin Hill and tried to enjoy the mirror maze, but instead was just annoyed at the little kids who were hogging all the fun house mirrors. Still, it was pretty:
Not cheered up by the surroundings, I knew I had to treat myself. I found a place that offered Thai massage, and oh sweet jesus, was it good. As soon as the guy finished my left leg I asked if I could have an hour and a half massage instead of the hour I had booked. He was busy after me but I made do by thinking, "I get to have that done to BOTH arms AND another leg AND my back. Score."
I thought I still deserved another treat, so I bought some beautiful garnet earrings, and went to a nice dinner. After finding the Globe, a popular expat bookstore, I felt much better. I was also inspired to take a picture of my bidet, and wonder why there was a cup holder next to it. A little pivko with your genital cleansing, perhaps?
After packing I went to ogle the crystal and porcelain at Moser for the second time, and finally bought myself a little dish. The guy who helped me, Ilkin, and I started talking about his life in Prague, how he'd wanted to study in the States but was worried about racism and anti-Muslim sentiments (he's from Azerbadjian). After leaving for the Mucha Museum I regretted not asking him to join me for lunch, and decided I would go back after the museum to see if he wanted to get a coffee.
Karma must have been on my side, because after a really enjoyable hour at the museum, I walked out the door and saw Ilkin! He had just been leaving Moser for his lunch break, and if I'd left a minute earlier or later I would have missed him completely. I taught him the word "serendipity," and we had a really nice lunch together.
I then picked up my bag at the hotel and went to the train station, sad to leave Prague but really excited about my stay there.