Published: December 26th 2005December 25th 2005
The biggest stadium in the world
shes seen better days but its quantity over quality that matters here.
I lay on my bed in my hotel room in Brno sipping on Fantas from the room's mini bar, watching a German Kareoke contest on Czech television and contemplating life as a business traveller. I contemplate other things. Is the women behind the reception trying to find her rich British ticket out? The length of her mini skirt hints at low self esteem, alterior motives and a possible textile shortage in the Czech Republic. It also suggests something about the hotels quality and reputation. The skirt length of the snobbish receptionist at the four star hotel I was turned away from hours ago was at least six inches longer. The skirt length of the 17 year old I was dancing with at a Czech disco in Cesky Krumlov last night even had a good two inches on this women's skirt. I debate going down to the lobby to enquire about the managers suspect hiring policies, or possibly engage her in a conversation about workers rights, sexual harrassment and organizing a union within the hotel to stand up against this obviously oppressive hotel owner. At very least, I debate propositioning this women to accept money for sex. But its getting late and
This is where I get arrested
on my last day in Prague I caught the changing of the guards. They try to look angry but I know on the inside they are all teddy bears.
the WHAM music video "Last Christmas" just came on with German subtitles...
Our Story Continues. My last day in Prague I decided I would climb the mighty hill to the Petronus view tower. I did many things that day but failed to reach the tower. I was hiking on the winding pathways of the Mala Strana, a steep hill which ascends towards the tower at the top, and provides stunning views of mother Prague. Most people take a gondola style fernicular railway to the top, especially in winter when the pathways of the Mala Strana are icy and abandoned. I soon discovered why. My shoes were of poor quality and had very little tread remaining. I am notoriously clumbsy.
I made it up the hill without incident, discovering among other things at the top, the worlds largest stadium. Capable of holding 240,000 people, the stadium was built during the Communist era to house National Gymnastics competitions in which 40,000 competators would compete at once. U2 and Rolling Stones both recently played here but failed to fill half of it.
I was filled to the brim with confidence having just ascended the hill successfully. And so, it occurred
close proximity fireworks
I went to the christmas fireworks in Brno and it was insane. They set them off feet from the crowd. I saw many people get hit with falling debris. People seemed to love it.
to me upon my way back down that I could save a lot of time by traversing straight down the hill. As fate would have it, I slipped, rolled down the hill, managing to stop only at the next pathway.The result; A bruised ass, rolled ankle, some minor cuts, muddy jeans and a destroyed ego. I stumbled back to my hostel to wallow in self pity, clean my jeans, and prepare for a second evening at Czech Jazz club (Czech Jazz is heavy on the keyboards and saxaphone, just the way I like it).
A bus to Cesky Krumlov the next morning brought me to greener pastures. Banff without the price tag. A town of 14,000 hugging the white water Vltava River. More than 50 bridges, winding narrow cobble stone streets, 5 hostels, a fairy tale castle, and an English language book store filled with the likes of Hunter S. Thompson, Noam Chomsky and Naomi Klein. In summer, the town fills up with British Hippieswho flock there to float down the river in rented inner tubes as they smoke marijuana and drink cheap pilsner. In Winter, it is only locals. And so, 2 amazing nights of Drunken Monkey Orgies
This man winds up his trolley and it plays all sorts of delightful tunes.
ensued (Mommy, don't take this one too literally. I would never have sex with a monkey, thats gross. Its more of a... figure of speech?). Drinking with locals, dining on Bohemian Feasts, dancing with Czech women, and testing out the Czech pick up lines from my Lonely Planet Czech phrase book that I got for my birthday. I was accompanied in these adventures by a 39 year old hippy from Manchester and a 19 year old shepherd from Australia...
The Christmas Story
as retold by Mr. Sardines (my new pseudenom, there is no rhyme nor reason to this name...I just needed a pseudenom, and fast)
As I hopped on my sketchy Soviet bus on Christmas Eve I felt as the Virgin Mary. The Night sky was clear, and the North Star was visible to the ... North. A week of living like a king had expanded my belly and I felt that inside lurked a special kind of baby. I rode into town on a bus that moved slow like a mule. I walked into the Grand Hotel across from the bus station, hoping to get room at the costly inn. I could feel my belly rumble, and
upon my arrival. The castle tower does look like it was designed by hans christian anderson (as lonely planet suggested)
I knew that this special baby, the product of sour kraut, pilsner and the dog meat I had no doubt consumed in the previous 24 hours, could not wait. The snobbish receptionist told me the cost was £50. A week of high living had left my finances in shambles and I was turned away into the streets. I wondered the cobbled alley ways until I found a more modest pension. I quicky paid the aforementioned receptionist and hurried to my stable like room. I looked down at the toilet. The design was very Eastern European and like nothing I had ever seen; hardly the place to birth the king of all poos. There was no choice. This 'Mangy' toilet would have to do. It was glorious. A beautiful, brown Christ Poo. History Repeats itself...
Now I am in a fancy restaurant in Brno eating lasagne and drinking beer. Nelly Fertado's "I'm like a bird" is playing on the Radio. I am typsy and its time to find the airport.
I have found a kindred spirit in Macauley Kaulkin [sp.] as I sit in the bazarre Brno airport bar watching a dubbed over version of Home Alone. He's alone
from the castle
overlooking the medievil town.
on Christmas Eve and is having a hell of a time alluding 2 clumbsy and gullable thieves. I am alone on Christmas Eve and am having a hell of a time musing about the oddities of this strange place and drinking yet another cheap Czech beer. I think its time to switch to coffee. By the way, Joe Pesci's brand of physical humor transcends the language barrier. Home Alone is a Christmas classic in any country. I forgot that John Candy had a cameo appearance in that movie.
I am not used of freedom, but I think I have found it in, of all places, Eastern Europe. When accompanied by friends one does not have complete freedom. Reputation, tommorrow morning and grand parents opinions keep people from dancing naked, singing in public, and snorting cocaine off the bellies of underage girls. Not to say that I did any of these things. The point is that I had the freedom to do them because I was alone. You'd be surprised what people will do when they know that no one will find out... Unfortunately, I confess my deepest thoughts to the internet, thus preventing me from acting upon these inappropriate
desires. That, and its probably a bad idea for a teacher to snort cocaine with anyone, especially with an underage girl... I digress.
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