We seemed to go over 40 hills, across 50 rivers and through realms of dragons and trolls as we and and a brigand of insufferable screaming children slithered across the straight 4 hour track to Bucharest. We seemed to stop forever at each station and arrived into the capital half an hour late. As soon as we stepped off the train at Gara de Nord (often cited as the most dangerous railway station in Europe, but we weren't convinced it was anything too bad) we were harassed for taxi rides. Having been instructed to take a taxi, we found the official rank at the front of the station to be safe, but apparently we were ripped off anyway. My friend Anne-Sophie, with whom I lived in Prague last summer, greeted us there by directing us to ... read more

Since last leaving you there has been no possible way for me to make contact with the internet, hence posting these two entries at once. I have even added some more to the previous entry, which I was rushing to write before my battery expired in our restaurant in Sofia. Wednesday morning, arriving in Varna on the roughest zombie train I have ever endured in my life, was our cue to finally leave the theme of heavy civilisation, trains, wifi cafés and even places where we could charge our devices well behind. We were looking forward to three days of sunbathing, swimming, living off bread and white cheese, and sleeping under the stars. I, for sure, hoped that the stars would provide better protection than the compartment on the zombie train, which despite having a route ... read more

The flat, black landscape of Hungary blared at me in vibrant stillness as Jitka slept, and I stood next to the open window accompanied by Lawrence's RA podcast (one of my deep house faves whose company on my travels last summer inspired nenahýbejte se z oken), as our decaying rychlík glided around the neverending plains, with the lights of Budapest still glaring at me 100 kilometers distant, and the faraway streetlights from the parallel motorway just seeming to stay as still as the many visible stars, like a backdrop to a SNES game. Momentarily we seemed to be stopping as the sooty Rothko painting was marred by a house or factory, a level crossing, a buzzing network of sidings and having cleared these, we sped up again, hurtling towards the Serbian border at the usual speed ... read more

A quick recommendation for people visiting Prague: Kolbenova Flea Market. I've never quite seen anything as abundant or chaotic in my life - and I wish we had got there earlier than 12.30, one and a half hours before the huge dusty area, on which thousands of little stalls and camping mats piled with the most random assortments of goods were laid, had to be cleared. Some people had obviously come wanting only to try and sell off old stuff as in a car boot sale, but then there were also a few regular stalls run more professionally, some of which were selling the most bizarre combinations of stock you could imagine: Toiletries, sardines and tea (The sardines were in the sale at this time) Porn, spirits and blank media Old turntables and electric hobs (this ... read more

Extended title: "Veliké noci ve veliké díře u velikého brlohu na konci světa" - Great nights (Easter) in a great hole next to a great hole at the end of the world At half four in the morning I was roused from my sleep by one of the usual weird 30 minute long ambient soundscapes they play on Rádio 1 in the nether hours, and soon after I was walking through a different kind of ambient soundscape, the Řepy dawn chorus which sometimes accompanies me on my way to work, feeling ready for a long, long trek. Then negotiating the sparse Prague transport system as it too wakes up, and later at hlavní nádrazí as the sun rose, collapsing into a seat on the ridiculously timed one Pendolino per day from Prague to Brno, at half ... read more