Day One

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We awoke around 8am on Sunday, December 23, in order to get ready to leave for Prague. It still had not fully hit me that we were leaving, that in a few short hours we would be on a flight that would take us to Germany and then on to Prague, a city I dreamed of visiting for years. We went through routines that have become habit (packing, tying up loose ends, playing with the dog), although the pets seemed to think that something strange was afoot and started to pout and sulk. Joanna was a lifesaver, helping with the pets. Knowing that she was the one to stay and take care of the house and dog assuaged my guilt over leaving just a bit (how do you tell a dog that you’ll be back after more than a week away?).

Thu picked us up and took us to the airport, which was crowded beyond belief at the arrivals section but relatively peaceful at departures. Although the line seemed about a million people long at Lufthansa, we were checked in and on our way to security and the gate in relatively little time. Security was a breeze (I recommend flying around the holidays) since there was so line at all. We easily walked by the TSA officials who couldn’t care less whether our one quart bag of gels went through the scanner outside of our luggage or that I carried lip gloss in my purse outside of the one quart bag and then headed down to the gate. Since we were early, we stopped at the newly opened Rouge restaurant for a small lunch and beer and then continued on to the gate.

Our flight was delayed arriving in Portland, which of course delayed our departure. It seemed that my pushing to get to the gate was just an exercise in “hurry up and wait” because there was no way we were going to take off on time. (Nevertheless, I was pleasantly surprised when Lufthansa was able to make up most of the time in flight and we arrived at Frankfurt not long after our original schedule.) Watching all of the people waiting for the flight became an interesting game of guess-whose-from-which-country. Indians were flying home with small children (what a long trip!), Germans and Eastern Europeans were returning to some point of origin, and loud Americans were off to take the world by storm. I wondered how long the trip would actually seem once we were flying. Thankfully, Matthew loaded the computer with movies and batteries. We slept for a few minutes, read for a short time, practiced our few words in Czech (Dam si jedno pivo, prosim.) and watched a lot of television. Twice Lufthansa fed us - pasta for dinner, eggs for breakfast - and many times we were given a variety of beverages, thus convincing me that this was the best airline carrier in the world (at least until we reached Frankfurt). Once the flight attendant seemed to mistake me for someone would could speak German. All in all, a fine flight even though it was very long.

We arrived in Frankfurt with another 90 minutes until our next plane. I assumed that because we already went through security in the US that we could just go from one gate to another without a problem, but that was not the case. The only gate in our concourse in which people had to re-go through security was the one where we needed to be. However, they did not want to open security until they were ready to board the plane, so we had another long wait. We visited some duty free shops (11 euros for Gordon’s gin? I think not!), walked around trying to find a power outlet (impossible), and attempted to get wi-fi (a lost cause). The wait back at the security checkpoint was another long one, filled with quietly speculating on where people were from and why they were going to Prague. Some traveled on red passports, some spoke Spanish, a few couples were quietly excited about either traveling to a new place or returning to a familiar one, and then there were the Americans. It didn’t matter how far away they stood, you could hear the loud, raucous voices carry over yards and yards of people. And those voices were obnoxious. I turned to Matthew, wishing I knew more Czech so that I could translate what I wanted to say - “Can’t we pretend to be from Canada?” (I was under the impression until I stood at passport control in Prague that Canadians were quieter and less obnoxious, at which time the two men from Vancouver in front of me proved me wrong.)

The plane ride to Prague from Frankfurt lasted 45 minutes. I slept the whole time, since we had been up for nearly 24 hours at that point, and missed the fact that even on a short flight Lufthansa served food and drink (somewhat making up for the fact that they were late again on take-off). We seemed to be the only people to arrive in Prague the middle of the day on Christmas Eve, which made waits minimal: we grabbed our baggage, picked up Czech currency from the ATM, and found a taxi that would take us to our destination - Waldstein Hotel in Mala Strana, Prague.

The Waldstein is cute and what I imagined from pictures. The staff was friendly (or at least as friendly as you could imagine people who had to work on Christmas Eve could be, given that the eve is bigger than the actual day in this country) and we were able to get into our room quickly. The numbering system for rooms is different than in the United States. We are on what they called the third floor, although to Americans we would say the fourth floor (in Europe the ground floor is floor zero). Our room number was 131 - the three in there indicating the floor, not that there were 30 rooms on the floor (which there are not). The hotel is a blend of rooms, short-time apartments, and long-term apartments or condos, giving it a different feel. After reading many reviews on this place I expected a small (tiny) room with a microscopic bathroom and cold running water, but I was pleasantly surprised. The room is Spartan but airy, with a large foyer separating the bedroom from two bathrooms (one for the toilet, one for the shower). It could almost be called American-sized (which, according to Matthew means “I need enough room to graze my horses.”). At least one point lived up to my expectations - the hot water did not last through two showers.

After napping for a few hours (and finding it extremely hard to wake up!), we showered and planned our first outing - attending a performance in Old Town Square. I wanted to attend something like a Christmas mass in a church, but after doing some reading on various sites I found that the Old Town Nam (which is located just past the heart of the Jewish quarter) had a traditional performance on Christmas Eve just after 9PM and that sounded appealing. We slowly started to figure out our way around in the dark as we headed for the nam in the frigid cold. I enjoyed the walk and being able to see all of the beautiful buildings half-hidden in the might, but eventually my extremities started protesting and Matthew lamented not having long underwear (layering will be in order on the next excursion).

People from all over arrived at the Old Town Nam. Standing in one place I could hear many conversations in a variety of languages going on around me, everyone anxiously awaiting the concert. One little stand that sold food and drink opened up and was thronged by the masses in no time. I ordered coffee in an awkward conversation that went like this:
Me: “Kava, prosim.”
Man: “Kavoh?”
Me: “Kavoh.” (now I know how to pronounce coffee)
Man: “Jedno?”
Me: “Yes” (shaking my head in agreement while I think “wait, I know the word for yes, why didn’t I say it?)
Matthew: just looks at me.
Me: Whoops. I need to learn the word for “two.”

The exchange of money for coffee did make me realize that I am going to need to adjust my outlook about the value of Czech currency - just because 30 krc looks like change does not mean that it is actually cheap. Our little disposable cups of kava (“ka-voh!”) were nearly two dollars a piece. (Also, Matthew pointed out a downside to trying to speak in Czech - it’s possible that people just assume that I can then understand, which of course I can’t.)

The concert was lovely - I videoed a few segments to share with Mom. Yet even a short, 45 minute concert can seem to drag on forever when one is standing in the frigid night air. (I found myself thinking “how did anyone survive concentration camps in the Polish winter if I am already frozen through and I have a heavy coat?!”) We nearly ran the whole way back to the hotel in an attempt to warm up (an attempt that proved unsuccessful until we were actually huddled under the blankets in the room).

The plan for day two - or should it be day three since it’s December 25? - is to tour the Jewish quarter. A fitting way to spend Christmas, I think.

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Photos

Our hotel room
The room is large and simple -- nice.