Getting around the city was trying at first. The Czech Republic is Slavic by origin, and it is reflected in the language, something which I found completely foreign to me being a student of Romance languages. Luckily, people were friendly enough to help me find my way to my hostel, nestled outside of a train station on the south side of town. Dogged after a full day of travel from Berlin, I took to bed quickly.
My first day venturing out into the heart of Prague one immutable fact about the place: it was teeming with some of the most gorgeous women I had seen so far in all my travels across Europe. Now I have had many conversations with fellow backpackers in hostels about where the hottest girls in Europe are, many saying the Swedes, others saying the French, the Italians, even the Germans and Dutch came up from time to time, but I had not heard anything about the girls in the Czech Republic. My general impression of Eastern Bloc countries was that of a people living in toil and prematurely aging, and not especially in the most graceful manner. Much to my pleasant surprise, there were beautiful girls walking around the summer streets with short skirts and low-cut blouses. Although I had not gone to Sweden, I would say everyone I had talked to was completely wrong, and that Czech girls won the beauty contest. As for their demeanor, I can say that over the course of my stay that being an American definitely helped. I never found it hard to talk to any of them despite the obvious language barrier. I had found it very hard to talk to beautiful girls back in the States, not so much out of fear but more because they tended to have this overzealous sense of superiority, and their personality pools had “No Diving“ signs posted all around, so conversations never lasted long. After pondering the reasons why it was so easy to talk to Czech girls, I came to the conclusion that Czech men are either in short stock or mistreat their women. I lean more towards the latter since, as I mentioned, the Czech. Republic is Slavic in origin, and as such, a national pastime for the men is probably beating their women. It really should not come as a surprise to any American male that being a gentleman will take you far in a place like Prague.
The first thing of my list to see was the Museum of Communism. This museum documented the period in which the country formerly known as Czechoslovakia was a satellite state of the Soviet Union. Upon finding it, there was a great irony I noticed: it was located above a McDonald’s, and right next door to a casino. I chuckled to myself a little, and went in to buy a ticket. The museum itself was very well done, with Communist-era memorabilia and propaganda strewn about the place, complete with statues of Marx and Lenin.
My next stop that day was the famous Charles’ Bridge. This bridge was pretty cool because it had statues of many Christian figures, including saints, popes, and Christ himself. Here’s me on the way to it:
To top the day off, I went to the main square were there is a large church, a monument to Protestant revolutionary Jan Huss, and a very interesting time piece.
That night I decided to take it easy after a long day of touring, and stayed at the hostel drinking a wide variety of cheap Czech beer, including a brand of Budweiser that is in contention with the US brand over copyright issues. On the tube, Germany was playing its grudge match against Turkey. I sure was glad I was not in Germany tonight. Given its large Turkish immigrant population, I was sure that by the end of the night, somebody would be rioting. Unfortunately, due to a severe storm that swept through central Europe that night, the signal during the second half kept being interrupted. I learned the next day that the only two stations not affected by this were a Swedish station and Al-Jazeera. I never thought Al-Jazeera broadcast anything but terrorists’ demands on their network, but somehow they were one of two stations who broadcasted the game in its entirety to the Middle East. As such, the Turks knew of their defeat before the Germans knew of their victory. I didn’t find out till the morning, as the beer had made me sleepy and I gave up on the game after the second signal disruption.
The next day, after recovering from a wicked hangover from the previous night’s beer binge, I went into town to discover a castle that sat atop a hill overlooking the city. This is actually very common of most European towns. They all have some castle at the highest point, a throwback to the medieval ages. That day was particularly hot, and made the walk up the stairs to the castle brutal, but the view it offered was reward enough.
On my way back down from the castle, I serendipitously ran into the Czech Republic parliament building; I had wanted to find it before I left the town, but had not planned on seeking out until the next day.
Also, coincidentally, I found a fountain that was shaped to appear as if two men were engaged in a pissing match. I have no other way to describe it.
It was late afternoon when I decided to return to the hostel after a good day of site-seeing and hiking around. Beforehand, I stopped at a grocery store for provisions, including a full roasted rotisserie chicken that cost ~$5. Now, you know how after you eat a large amount of turkey at Thanksgiving you get the itis, which is another way to say that you get really tired and want to sleep, well, after halving that chicken with Mike, the itis set in. I often wonder why eating large amounts of turkey and chicken do this, and I guess maybe its an evolutionary self-defense mechanism, in that if a predator bags one of the flock, it becomes too tired to pursue the rest. I will never truly understand this evolutionary altruism, but it’s the best explanation I can provide.
I was sleeping soundly in bed when I started hearing loud bangs coming from outside. I leapt to the window, assuming the worst. Who was it? Were the Russians back? Holy crap, could it be… ze Germans?!?! But alas, it was not an all-out invasion. It was a fireworks display going on a couple blocks down the road. I have absolutely no idea what was being celebrated, but from my vantage point I was able to see the show.
Leaving the Czech. Republic turned out to be more of a chore than I had anticipated. It was difficult for many reasons, the first of which was that the Czech. Republic is not apart of my Eurail pass, which meant I had to purchase a ticket getting in and going out. Secondly, the train going out and back into Germany had a locomotive and two passenger cars, which was expected to fit over 100 passengers and pull us to the border. If I had chosen to take a slow boat to China, I could have beaten this train by a month. Never mind the logistics of sailing from a landlocked country, the point is that this train was incredibly slow, and lacked the proper facilities to house the many people aboard it. I was standing in the hallway, with my head out the window, watching the Czech countryside creep by. After bitching with Mike about the situation for a good ten minutes, a girl beside me decided to chirp in by saying that if we disliked Europe so much we should just leave. Such ignorance was a dead give away that she was an American, and I set to work verbally berating her. She asked, “Can I get by you. I have, like, a real seat on the other side.” I looked over, noticed 20 other people standing in the hallway. I quipped, “Real? As opposed to imaginary? You got your work cut out for ya missy, better get a move on.” and I allowed her to squeeze by. It has been annoying, to say the very least, about how I cannot complain about something without somebody opining Nothing can bring a person my full contempt faster than jumping into a conversation they have no earthly business being in. Luckily, my temper fizzled as we shortly arrived in Brno, and a couple additional cars were added to the train, allowing us a place to sit. Before long I was asleep and woke up in Munich.
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