The Greatest Surprise of the Trip . . . Prague!

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(December 4th - 6th) Before I start, GO to Prague. I’m not joking. Forget whatever Caribbean vacation you have planned out for relaxation and rum, forget going to Italy to eat loads of pasta and drink your body weight in wine . . . go to Prague! One of my friends Lauren told me to go as we were still deciding all of our plans, and damn was she right. Prague is unbelievably beautiful, cheap to stay in, and one of the most fun places we’ve explored yet!

Ok . . . now that we’ve started on a good note, let me tell you the horror story of Brian and my first night in Prague. We got in late to the train station and I was ecstatic because the directions to Hostel Tyn seemed clear and simple. Straight out of the train station, through the town square, first right, second right, and then you’re there! For those of you who know me, and for those of you who have just been paying attention reading these blogs, you know I suck at directions. You also know that I hate getting lost! I abhor it. I get scared, nervous, and have sometimes gone into panic attacks when I don’t know where I am. This goes for life as well. I don’t necessarily need to know where I’m going or what I’m doing, but when someone tells me I’m going the “wrong direction” I don’t do so well. After two years on the Pre-Med track and studying eight hours a night after a full day of classes and two tutoring sessions, I went to my Organic Chemistry professor for advice. I explained my situation and asked her for any help, wisdom, or guidance so that I could make it through her course. She told me, and I quote, “Your brain is not programmed for Organic Chemistry. You won’t be able to get it.” That feeling, that angry, sad, scared, confused, helpless feeling, that awful feeling of not knowing what I was going to do, which way I was going to turn, or if I was ever going to be able to find the right direction again . . . this was worse.

The directions to the Hostel were in no way accurate, so this time it wasn’t my fault. We followed the directions and ended up at a Swarovski crystal store. We tried a slight change and were in a restaurant. One more change and we were at someone’s home. No hostel. We lugged our bags, (poor Brian with our giant suitcase rolling over the biggest cobblestones on streets I’ve ever seen,) up and down streets and around the square for two hours. I tried calling the hostel several times but no one answered (later we learned the manager was upstairs watching TV and chatting with his friends.) We finally unzipped our giant bag to pull out our “Europe on a Shoestring” Lonely Planet guide (best purchase ever . . . thanks again Katie for bringing it over 😊 to double check the address and phone number. Both were wrong. The hostel had sent us the wrong phone number, the wrong address, and the wrong directions in the email. So we tried the new phone number, still no answer. We found several cab drivers and asked them for help. They all gave us the same answer, the hostel was only a few blocks away so they would be cheating us out of money if they drove us there. Just keep walking. So we did. No luck. We found a few police officers who told us to ask at the tourist office. It was closed. At this point my arms were aching and I was beginning to hyperventilate. What the hell were we going to do? Lost in Prague? Are you kidding? Thankfully one of the bars was playing Coldplay’s “Lost,” and although incredibly ironic it lifted my spirits greatly and I avoided a meltdown. We pressed on and found another set of police officers. They must have seen the tears dangling at the edge of my eyelids trying to push through and the exhaustion in both of our bodies, because they not only told us where the hostel was, but they walked us there themselves to make sure we didn’t take anymore wrong turns. Needless to say, we weren’t so happy with the people at Hostel Tyn upon our arrival. But we maintained our dignity and decided to unload so we could go back out and give Prague a second chance.

Of course you already know what happened because of the way this story started. The only good thing about the Hostel Tyn was its amazing location. We were a block from the main square, which was filled with the most elaborate Christmas market yet. Spits of meat roasting over open fires, mulled wine being ladled right out of giant cauldrons, a full stage with a choir singing carols, gingerbread houses and cookies as far as the eye can see, and an enormous tree filled with silvery decoration and lights that looked like shooting stars gliding down the branches. It was magnificent! As soon as we walked into the square, Brian and I both looked at each other and then told Prague, “You are forgiven.”

As it turns out, Prague not only evened the score, but made up for any bad feelings when we stayed at Miss Sophie’s our third night there. (Originally we were going to Krakow, Poland, but it was a sixteen-hour roundtrip for only ten hours of time there.) When we checked in to Miss Sophie’s, Vladi, the desk attendant, listened to our horrible tale of woe trying to find Hostel Tyn and then dealing with a horrible room two flights up in which the heater was broken and so the room felt like a sauna. Vladi must have felt sorry for us, because he upgraded us to an apartment instead of our double room. The apartment was complete with a king-sized bed, ceilings higher than my apartment in San Francisco, (actually the entire apartment was bigger than my apartment in San Francisco), a kitchen stocked with coffee and tea, and a bathroom with a rainwater shower. Each room had sensor lights that went on as you walked into them. My favorite part was twirling on the smooth floors in my tights and spinny black and white skirt and then running from room to room letting the lights chase me as I went. We gave Vladi a bag of candy for being so kind. If you ever go to Prague, stay at Miss Sophie’s and then take the metro down to the main square, it’s a much better way to go.

Prague is a stunningly beautiful city and is by far my favorite city we’ve been to on this trip. I had no idea how gorgeous it was! It has a very Florencesque quality about it with a gothic charm. Beautiful old buildings tower up into the sky with enduring splendor. The view overlooking the city with St. Charles Bridge smack in the middle and red rooftops stretched to every corner was breathtaking. Well, see for yourself. Its really indescribable and even the pictures barely do it justice.

An interesting attraction in Prague is the astrological clock. Every hour, on the hour, a skeleton on the side of the tower begins to ring a bell. After ringing it several times, two windows open up above him and figures of the twelve apostles, two by two, begin to appear in the windows. After eleven and twelve have passed by, the windows close, and a strange noise resounds, like the air being forcefully let out of a balloon. Hundreds flock every hour into the square with cameras and eyes darted upwards to behold this sight. It’s a pickpocketers’ dream! Its also incredibly fun to watch, especially as the little kids jump and squeal with delight when the skeleton rings his first chime.

Although we had our fair share of mulled wine, (the caramel wine was my favorite!), we were told that one bar made it the best so we ventured in. Two musicians, one from Prague and one from Berkeley were performing that night on guitar and keyboard as they played covers of American hit after hit. We liked them so much we bought them drinks, after which they gave us their personal set list and continued to ask us what we’d like to hear. Brian and I were in heaven! We, along with a few Australians who happened to be living in Prague all crooned away to everything from “Piano Man” to “American Pie.” It was one of the most fun nights we’ve had 😊

One thing that struck me as very interesting were the homeless in Prague. Rather than sitting with signs or holding out cups or their hands, they kneel on both legs, bow their head to the ground, and hold their hands up without looking at the people walking by. I’ve always understood kneeling to be a great sign of respect and act of reverence. Putting yourself in a kneeling position is denoting you are lesser than someone else and that your esteem for them is that great (Side note: That’s why its so awesome at the end of Lord of the Rings when Aragon who is now king kneels in front of the hobbits which in turn invokes everyone to kneel in front of them. So cool!) I was more prone to give these people change, but at the same time I didn’t like the feeling that they were considering themselves lesser beings. Maybe it was just a sign of thanks, I hope so.

Every year on December 6th there is the worldwide celebration of St. Nicholas’ Feast Day. St. Nicholas, being very similar to Santa Clause, as a saint who used to put fruit, sweets, and money into Dutch children’s wooden shoes that they would leave outside the front door or on the windowsill to dry. So every year on the night of December 5th, children all over the world (if you’re aware of an extra chance at presents that is) put their shoes out beside their beds or outside the door in the hopes that St. Nicholas will fill them with treats. My family celebrates every year. My mom even used to mail down tiny little presents to stuff in my shoes at not unwrap until the morning of the 6th when I was in college. Growing up in a Catholic family, you usually are given an onomastico, a namesake for part of your name. So my sister Chrissy has St. Chritopher, and I, being Tara Nicole, have St. Nicholas, (I won the jackpot of onomasticos 😊

So on the night of December 5th in Prague, it is one huge celebration. People dress up as St. Nicholas himself, angels, devils, or Zwaar Pete (Black Pete). Some people are completely covered head to foot in soot with scraggly wigs and ragged clothes as if they’d been dragged by the toes through a coal mine. Many of the children wear light-up devil horns that glow red, blue, or green. Everyone drinks cup after cup of mulled wine until the trash cans are overflowing as they sing both happy and forewarning Christmas songs about what will happen if you’ve been bad. It was very difficult to tell if the people dressed up were paid to do so or not because there were so many of them and they all interacted heavily with the crowd. Brian and I spent about five minutes watching one Zwaar Pete hiss at little kids and pretend to claw them as they attempted to see what treats he had hidden in his burlap sack. Several of the older boys laughed as they tried to protect their crying sister who was much too alarmed by the whole situation to tolerate waiting in line for a treat. The whole thing was a little surreal. Standing under these giant gothic structures, in the middle of a Christmas Market, with characters dressed up running amuck, and thousands of people filling the streets every second. It all looked like one really fantastic dream that had taken a wrong turn and became a terrifying nightmare. I can’t imagine what kind of horrendous trip it would be for people who go to this kind of function on hallucinogens and end up with nightmares for the next month!

Prague surpassed my expectations in every aspect. What a beautiful culture . . . what an amazing city! Make it your next vacation, I promise you won’t be disappointed.

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Comments

[Roy]

I agree, Prague has to be one of the most beautiful cities on the planet! I loved every minute of it, which, I guess, is why I spent an entire week there! I would have loved to be there for the Festival, I agree that everyone in costume in such a gothic city would be quite surreal! Glad you guys are having so much fun!