prague

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this is quite an involved journal that i kept whilst in prague, and continued with once i returned to london. it will be posted in installments due to brain failure.

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when i first found out that id made the unbelievable mistake of managing to book the wrong flight - a different flight to Jimmy and Luke to Prague (Jimmy had even sent me the exact link of the flight he and Luke booked!) i was slightly dismayed at the situation id be in. - for some reason, i didnt want to fly solo? forgetting the fact that my departure time would mean waking up at 3 in the morning, my aforementioned dismay rapidly subsided once i realised i would be stuck, alone, unhindered, wandering and immersed in a city that is often said to be one of the most beautiful in the world.

it was quite nostalgic, walking out of the terminal in prague and visualising the excitement my pilot caused when he announced the weather upon arrival (minus one, light snow) snowflakes drifting peacefully from above, dotting everything with a serene white confetti. This was the first time id seen snow. ever. the notion seems quite strange, tho did nothing but enhance the almost dreamlike vista i was becoming a part of.

after almost deciding to take a cab into the city (but being deterred by a sly and sinister central european man, offering me HIS taxi service right under the noses of the airport's official bright yellow taxis) i boarded the bus towards the metro as guided by the instructions attached to Jimmy's email that had laughed at my previous mistake with my flight booking skills. the landscape was inspirational. i have 10 rolls of beautiful black and white, and a camera similarly aligned with my more artistic than journalistic endeavours. it all adds to my excitement over this place. there's far more to come:

while im sitting here writing these first lines (at a small setting by a phone near the reception in our hostel, so as not to disturb the only other person in my dorm with the light) a portly, olive skinned man with groomed facial hair and translucent over-tight button up white shirt, light denim jeans, outrageous pointy tan shoes, a man with bowlers hat, opened black shirt and leather jacket, jeans, shoes and hair all in black, plus his thickening beard, and a slighter, chubby bright faced mexicano arrive back from outside. the kind of guys who stay at hostels to meet other people and other characters, man number one sits down and introduces himself. Im ashamed i cant remember his name: he's Persian. speaks farsi (and German). says he's from Germany after i tell him (because he asked) im from Australia. i find out that man number two is cubano. he looks like a reporter because he is one: for the national geographic (covering conflict in a select few countries, where he speaks the respective tongue efficiently, if not fluently). im thinking about what im writing of Al while we start to talk more, then he asks me if i smoke, i reply no. He seems to misunderstand (thinks the man) and asks me again, "Marihuana?" "oh yeah" i answer, completely clear. "you come with us too, we smoke" and off i pop with all of them to begin my night (this first one, waiting for the birthday celebrants in prague:

as i write this, day 3 had ended, night 3 is going on around, in, behind and before me. our first night was somewhat thrusted towards an unpredictable and serendipitous meeting of such colourful characters, then magnified by the occasion.

when Luke and Jimmy arrive at the hostel, im stoned as, sitting in the common room with everybody, and we've been laughing, joking and drinking there for quite some time. had they arrived again 150 mintues later, we ALL would have been sitting there laughing, joking and drinking for some time - because that we did!

its hard to walk Prague's streets without an offering of food. after drunkenly dressing, not worrying about our pile of belongings in the dorm, loading my camera and heading off, the first port of call soon becomes one of the stands poised on corners, all red and white, dotting squares and malls and streets that vend hamburgers with various types and styles of european meats. by night's end, i think ive had 4?

we get loose: its Luke's birthday now, Jimmy's soon. Shit, i think it was already after 12 (Jimmy's birthday) before we went out? shortly after eating (for the first time) we see Cubano on our travels and decide to join him at a bar by the old town square (near our apartment now) "Chateau". its predominately red inside, but the mix of fluro lighting and splashes of ultra-violet paint peering through the never-ending red walls, gives it an obscure atmosphere. A mirror, mirrors the bar. nice, lots of wood, aged and well tended, about 6m x 2m high as it fills the mirrors gaze. a second room adjoins it: another much smaller bar, a dance floor and the dj box.

its practically empty tonight. We have a few more drinks, take a lot of photos, then head back to our hostel, smoke more, commune and then meet the "irish guy"...
ask Luke about this guy: he had Luke awestruck. -a barrage of true comedy. to the point where Luke was asking him in all seriousness "So what are you doing here? - you're a comedian right?" to the point where my whole neck, throat, face, nose was aching from infinite laughter. hard laughter. to the point where he was piquing our hysteria, and leaving himself shaking his head in disbelief at our unending laughter, and then remarking "ah, you guys are mare-ken a full outta me, arent ye?" in his thick irish accent.

so for the rest of the next hour, we were his captive audience, and Luke still didnt believe he wasnt a professional comedian. one more joint. one litre of jack down, and off to bed.
Happy birthdays.

(to be cont'd)


guys, jump on to facebook.
ive posted billions of photos from all my travels there and am simply too lazy to do it more than is necessary.
you can find my profile if you search for Carlos Julio Miguel Salas.
it will be well worth your while, and you'll be able to check out everything else that is going on with all those who are also abroad...
peace

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