The Prague disease

The Canadian boys from the hostel and I decided to check out the Jewish museum in Prague. Our Aussie friend Jack, one of the original absinth shot drinkers, had been planning to stay in Prague only two nights, but he was still sitting in the lobby that morning, six nights after he’d arrived. We tried to convince him to come with us, spend just one more night.
 
‘I can’t,’ he said, ‘I have to go.  I have four more countries to cover in 10 days! I’ve been here too long!’ Okay, we agreed. He had to leave.
When we got back, hours later, he was sitting at a computer at the hostel.

‘Just one more night,’ he said.

***

Then, happily, Dan arrived.

Jase’s brother, who’s been travelling Europe for a few months, was going to Prague to visit an old friend. We dedicated his first day there to beer. Well, beer and walking.

My guidebook said there’s a good beer garden in a park that has a great view of the city, and we went to find it. It was empty, pretty much, when we got there (apparently it’s popular in the summer), but we could still buy a cheap beer at the stand. We sat looking at the city, and looked up how to say ‘Cheers’ in Czech.

Na zdravi!

Wandering, later, towards our next beer-related destination, we passed a group of people with an antique-looking video camera on a tripod. A woman from the group approached us – I thought they were going to give us hell for walking through their shot; instead she asked ‘Do you want to be in our movie?’.

My job was to walk to an ‘X’ she drew in the dirt with her shoe, look both ways as if waiting for someone, and turn and walk away. We practiced a few times, then shot it. I think it was an award-worthy performance.

We went up the funicular to the top of Petrin Hill, our destination: a monastery within the castle district that brews its own beer. We tried one of each kind – the amber, the dark, and the wheat, the amber ending up the clear winner. Monks are smart people.

The next day I was sure I was going to continue on to Cesky Krumlov south of Prague. I got up early, started packing my bag, phoned a hostel to see if they had available beds. By the time I’d finished packing my bag, I’d changed my mind. One more night in Prague – JUST ONE. I went down to the desk to say I’d be staying another night at the hostel.
‘Again?’ the receptionist said.
For the day wandered the city with my camera, read Milan Kundera’s ‘The Unbearable Lightness of Being’. A friend from the hostel, who had continued on to Cesky Krumlov, sent me a text to see if I’d be arriving any time soon.

‘Decided on one more day in Prague,’ I wrote back. ‘JUST ONE.’

‘Haha, I see you’re not immune to the Prague disease,’ he responded. ‘Might see you in Budapest’.

I did manage get out of Prague the next day, telling myself there is, in fact, more of Europe to see. Much, much more.

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

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About aasaelsewhere

I like Saskatchewan fine, but am hitting the road soon anyway. First on the itinerary: Portugal, England, Ireland, then England again. I have Yellow Fever immunity, a pending visa, and a blank passport, and can't promise anything.
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2 Responses to The Prague disease

  1. Karla Marshall says:

    the pictures on your last 2 posts aren’t coming up…. it is my computer?

  2. Karla Marshall says:

    ok so now they are……..

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