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Published: January 24th 2005
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Charles Bridge
To the far right is Prague Castle, to the far left is the edge of Petrin Hill, mentioned in Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being novel At 11:45 pm on Jan. 2nd, Jason and I boarded a bus for Prague! After about a six hour ride, we got off the bus in a dark bus station and I thought I knew the way to the hostel. Of course, the map in my head looked nothing like the real thing, so we got lost. We ended up walking for about an hour and then hopping a tram without paying (following the advice of a local). Finally, we got to our hostel, "Hostel Elf" and was told that our room wouldn't be ready until 11am. So, from around 7am, we sat our exhausted bodies in the lobby and tried to sleep. At the precise moment that my booty touched the worn out leather of the couch, the hostel owner decided it was Czech Pop hour and cranked the music up. After around three hours of dozing in and out conversations and checkers games, we decided to douse ourselves in coffee and just go for the city without sleep.
Our first stop was an obvious one: Charles Bridge. One of the most beautiful bridges I've seen, it is made of stone and has several interesting statues along it, now turned
black over time. There is a wishpoint, well actually two wishpoints. One is for tourists and it lies on a statue. The "real" wishpoint, as I learned later, is an inconspicuous combination of two metal discs the size of nickels located on the walkway and side of the bridge. Putting one foot on one disc and one hand on the other, looking out over the water, we made wishes where the Czech businessmen apparently come before big deals. After the Charles Bridge, Jason and I wandered around the city, visiting the Christmas market (by this point, all the Christmas markets were looking the same to me) and vintage shops. We were both surprised at the Czech prices, not being as cheap as we had thought. The Czech people, I noticed, tend to have wider set features and the language sounds to me like a combination of German and Russian. They are very hospitable and relaxed. That night we slept 12 hours.
On the 4th, at the hostel breakfast, I happened to hear a conversation between an old man I had noticed the day before and someone my age. The older man, I learned, was giving a tour of Prague that
Making a wish
at the "real" wishpoint day for anyone who wanted to come for ten dollars. I jumped at the opportunity, learning later that he was a German history professor who had been living at the hostel for seven months and was writing a novel. What LUCK! Calling ourselves a "history class," (for legal reasons) We spent four or five hours walking all over Prague with someone who knew so many interesting facts about the region and the people. He took us to Prague Castle, the biggest castle in the world (I'm pretty sure, maybe just Europe), and showed us a church with signs of Anti-Vaticanism and clues about the Holy Grail. He explained that they put jewelry cases in this chapel to distract visitors' eyes from "the truth." There were a lot of correlations with Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code, which I had read, so it was fascinating, true or not. The rest of the day he showed us the Jewish District, Kafka's house, the train station, and a building that housed Radio Free Europe. I had no idea but apparently this building is the most protected building in Prague because it airs anti-Muslim comments and is supported by the U.S.. Interestingly, the city's embassy's
door was left open with no guards, not even a latch. We opened the door with one finger. You can get the idea of the vibe of the city when I tell you that the American embassy also had no guards. So, Steve, our tour guide, was everything you could hope for in a tour guide: he knew the rarely visited interesting spots, he told us information normal tour guides wouldn't tell, he smoked a lot and cursed that he hated tourists at least thirty times. That night we went to a nightclub and met what seemed like every single other American that was in Prague or in the surrouding region.
Our last day in Prague we went back to the Castle and also to the Jewish Cemetery. They charge to get into the cemetery but if you walk around it there are stairs that lead to a lookout where you can see the whole thing for free. It's an interesting place because there are what seems like thousands of gravestones within literally inches of each other. Tired, we wandered back through different roads and alleys of the city and returned to the hostel, where we played cards and chess
New friends
This is how we spent good hours.
(the French history student, the Japanese student, and "Uncle Steve") with our new friends: a French history student, a Japanese man travelling for a year, girls from Arizona, four pop-punk Swedish boys, and "Uncle Steve." I've never been in a hostel that held so many interesting and friendly people. We were brothers and sisters for a day. That night the Swedish boys missed their bus and had no money, so everyone in the hostel chipped in to help them stay the night and eat... That was how great those people were.
At 7am we got on the bus back to Berlin and finally made it home, tired! On the bus trip I sat in the back. True to my luck, I sat behind some guy who couldn't figure out how to secure his seat to prevent it from swinging into the aisle every time the bus moved. I've never tried to hold in laughter so hard as that bus ride. Every time the bus took a turn there would be a "squeeeeek BOOM....squeeeeek BOOM." I felt so sorry for the woman sitting next to the kid, who got practically slammed into every time his crazy seat went swinging back to its original position. It got to the point where he was holding onto the handles on the seat in front of him trying to keep himself steady. I wanted to advise him that holding those handles for six hours was probably an impossibility, but held my tongue. It was ridiculously funny for about an hour, then every time I dozed off it was the "squeeeek BOOM" and the entire bus turning around to see what was happening. So, as soon as the kid got off the bus for a break, all of us surrounding his seat jumped up and tried to fix it, successfully. Whew... quite an end to a great few days in Prague.
Jason and I flew from Berlin to London for a few days, visting Camden Town and the Tate Modern. There is a great audio exhibit there now of Bruce Nauman's. I finally bought new tennis shoes (because by this time and still today I had permanently aching heels from walking so much) and ceremoniously threw my old ones in the public garbage can.
I learned too much on this three week trip to even begin to write down. It felt like I was gone for three months. I saw many beautiful people and things, only interrupted by insightful and soothing solitary train rides. What more can I ask for?
Now, I'm tired from writing all of these journals. It's more difficult than I thought to try to express even half of my feelings and memories. I'm so lucky. Thanks to everyone.
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