When we first moved to Spain, Lonely Planet had a monster travel book sale. Since we were all fresh-faced and new to the European scene, El and I went nuts and bought a variety of guidebooks: Moscow, Stockholm, France and Prague. Our eyes may have been bigger than our checking accounts, because you'd think we were going to morph into Magellan the two years we were here. We have certainly had our fair share of travels the past 24 months, and all the books had gotten used except the Moscow one. But don't worry, we'll get there someday. It's all part of my elaborate plan to join the CIA and track down POW's turned terrorists. Or maybe I've been watching too much Homeland...
I don't think we'll know what to do with ourselves once we're back in the States and are able to have an actual Thanksgiving meal. Last year, we had French food in London, and this year we decided to travel to Prague for the holiday. We have heard NOTHING but good things about Prague, and many friends here have told us that it's their all-time favorite European city. Plus, The Czech Republic is still on their own currency, so the exchange rate is beyond glorious. I suspect that will change as years distance the country's history with the Iron Curtain, so we were fortunate to enjoy a great deal while we still could. Plus, tickets from Malaga were cheap, so it was the perfect time to go. I am going to write the Vatican and have them pull some strings to glorify the fantasticness that is Skyscanner, because we have traveled to the craziest locations as a result of their prices. I'm pretty sure that Paul would write the Corinthians about it.
We drove down to Malaga that Wednesday after work and naturally got wings at O'Leary's in the airport. Our first flight was to Charles de Gaulle Paris, and the air vents weren't properly working. I was absolutely roasting, and the situation wasn't helped by me sitting bitch. We did sit next to a very interesting American who was FASCINATED with the fact we were at Pamplona and Elliot may/may not have run with the bulls. She kept asking him all sorts of questions, which he was happy to answer. She and her husband live down by Nerja and run volunteer trips for Americans. She also has a Hemingway blog, so I recommended some places to visit in Paris that are Hemingway-related (because I'm now an expert, natch).
Emily had bought everyone big cans of beer for the plane ride, and the second the plane was level, all you hear is a chorus of cans opening. Jessica and Tim were sitting a few rows behind everyone else, and she said they looked at each other and asked, "Was that the sound of beers opening?" Nah, we just gave everyone the signal. THE SIGNAL TO PAAARRRR-TAAY.
Meeks was beyond excited to be flying over Paris, and excitedly yelled "Hey guys, look at that!" loud enough that I think the pilots heard him. Charles de Gaulle airport is the biggest one in Paris, and also one of the most confusing airports I've ever been in. We took a bus to the terminal and followed signs that pointed towards connecting flights. Either the French were messin' with Sasquatch, or there was a translation problem, because even though we were in the right terminal, we walked out of it and had to go back through security to get back in. Mother f'er. We were reminded of how expensive Paris is when we got a snack at the only cafeteria in the terminal; I had these expensive noodles that tasted like I was eating hair dye. Now, I've never tasted hair dye before, but the noodles were what I imagined it to taste like. It's like when humid weather "smells like Florida". Crazy connected senses!
The connecting flight to Prague wasn't bad at all, except for the guy sitting behind us (next to Meeks) who kept spraying Binaca (when was the last time you saw someone use Binaca?) in his mouth and cologne that smelled like Atomic Bomb anal cream. Maybe he thought it smelled good? I suppose one man's cologne is another man's anal cream.
We had our first taste of the impossible to comprehend Czech language on the plane, when the flight attendants spoke over the intercom. The sound of the language is hard to describe, but if a rubber band guitar could speak, and was able to scat, that's what Czech sounds like. You know, the rubber band guitars that kids have to make for music projects? Picture it. Now picture it scatting. And know you know what Czech sounds like.
We took a free bus and got off at the last stop to take the metro the rest of the way to our hotel. The metro was seriously bare-bones, and public transport in Prague seemed to be based off the honor system. There are no guards on duty, no arms you have to pass through, and your only proof of paying for a ticket is the paper one you get stamped by a machine. There may be workers who walk through the cars and check tickets, but we didn't see any. You theoretically could travel all over Prague for free. I'm thinking their department of transportation has yet to figure that out.
We walked a block or two from the metro to our hotel, The Eurostars Thalia. The hotel was bad-ass, and it was only $80/night for a five star hotel. Thank you, Booking! Even the bathroom floors were heated, which made me turn to Elliot and say, "I want that". I would kill a baby dolphin for heated floors in our Spanish house. Shit gets COLD. After having our tootsies properly warmed, we grabbed some food at a nearby kebab shop before calling it a night.
We ventured out at nine the next morning to try to find this restaurant that served American breakfasts. We crossed the Vltava River into the Hradcany neighborhood to find it, but our search was in vain. On the way, we saw two police officers standing next to a goose on the sidewalk of the bridge we crossed. I'm not sure if they were trying to stare it down, but they really weren't making an effort to get the goose off the bridge. I mean, they didn't even try to convince the goose that he had so much to live for. Jerks.
I'm just going to stop right here and say that Prague is the most beautiful city I've ever seen. Every turn you make, you see another stunning building or picturesque view. I need to get that out here right away, because I'll just moon over this city the entire blog. If you have a chance, you really need to visit Prague. It's just utterly breathtaking.
We didn't find the American breakfast, so we stopped at the first cafe we saw, Cafe Savoy. We later learned that it's one of the top restaurants in Prague, so it was a happy accident. The room was buzzing, and the choices seemed endless. I ordered a pot of fresh mint tea (memories of Marrakech) and a delicious Gruyere cheese omelet. Elliot and Tim ordered "English" and "French" breakfast respectively, and their portions basically took up the whole table. Jessica had this French toast that just looked too pretty to eat. And on top of that, everyone got their own basket of bread. Cafe Savoy was a great place to fuel up for the rest of our adventures.
We walked along the river, past interesting buildings and sculptures (see Facebook album of Bizarre Crap) and an adorable watermill towards the Prague Palace compound. The weather was cloudy and cool, but not cold enough to keep us from walking all over the city. The temperature was in the low 40's during the day and mid to high 30's at night; to be honest with you, it was a nice change of pace from the 60 degree "fall" weather of Spain. I know that the second we get back to the States, I'll be bitching about how cold it is. And DC doesn't even get that cold. I know, I know, somebody call the WAAHHHMBULANCE.
On the climb up the hill to the Compound, we stopped in this fantastic art gallery that had unique, almost "LSD trippy" paintings of Prague. And true to that exchange rate, it was cheap as all get out. We grabbed a card from the owner and went back and purchased some on our way down the hill.
The Palace Compound lies at the top of a hill that offers spectacular views of the city. There was a four piece orchestra band playing classical music at the top, and it created the perfect soundtrack for the moment. There are two guards standing on either side of the Palace entrance and a big plaza in front of it. There is a statue of the first President of Czechoslovakia that is still adorned with fresh flowers. That was actually a common sight throughout our trip: statues and memorials bedecked with flowers. It's refreshing to see them so well-cared for.
The plaza was, shocker, beautiful, and we got there about 30 minutes before the noon changing of the Palace guards, which I had read to be the most impressive time to see it. We walked through the Plaza to Loretta Square to see Cernin Palace, the palace that was taken over by the Nazis for their headquarters during the Third Reich "Protektorate". Cernin Palace was also the location of the Warsaw Pact signing. It's no longer open to the public, but it was still neat to see the building due to the history behind it.
We then walked down a small hill to the 16th century Baroque church, Our Lady of Loretta, that was a place of pilgrimage at the time it was built. You're greeted at the entrance by a row of weathered stone statues, and two old ladies work the admissions window. We purchased a "picture pass" which is basically a Busch way of charging people to take pictures inside. I'm glad we did though, as it was a really unique space. There were two outdoor "floors" that surround an outdoor courtyard. Along the walls of the first floor are painted images of saints in these wooden panels. There are frescoes on the ceiling, and it's easy to almost walk into a saint while you're looking above you. In the middle of the courtyard is a chapel made entirely of carved, white marble. There wasn't much to the inside, but the outside looked like a wedding cake. There was another chapel, Our Lady of Sorrows, that w3as a different story. The interior was huge, and no detail was spared in its decor: statues, gold, paintings, marble, you name it, it was there.
As we made our way to the exit, I spotted a statue of a crucified woman with a beard. I had read ahead of time that the statue was of St. Astorias, the daughter of a Portuguese king. She was promised by her father to marry the King of Sicily, and she prayed and cried all night that the marriage contract would be broken. When she awoke the next morning, she had a full beard. The marriage was cancelled, but her father was humiliated and crucified her. She is now the patron saint of the God-forsaken.
We made it back to the Palace Compound just in time to hear trumpets and drums start playing, and two columns of uniformed guards with bayonets were marching from the Plaza to the Palace. There were a lot of people crowded around the entrance, so some guy who's name must've been Moses was tasked with parting the crowd. Once inside the compound, the soldiers displayed impressive showmanship with their bayonets to the sound of the military music. It was impressive, but the guards didn't seem quite as devoted to their jobs as the Palace guards in London. Jessica and I both caught one of the on-duty guards checking us out when he thought we weren't looking. After the changing of the guard and we had passed through the Palace courtyard, I was sitting on the ground trying to get a picture of St. Vitus Cathedral. I had to put my camera down when three marching guards passed by me. I awkwardly locked eyes with the middle one, a young (okay, he was pretty cute) guard. It was one of those odd moments when it's too late to awkwardly look away, so you stare each other down until someone makes a move or says something. As he was about to pass by me, I winked at him, and he gave a laughing smile back at me. Definitely not Buckingham Palace Guards caliber. Elliot called me creepy.
A cute guard wasn't the only scenery that caught our eyes. St. Vitus cathedral is this stunning Gothic cathedral (thin and crispy!) that had gorgeous stained glass windows (which cathedral doesn't?) and the remains of St. Wenceslaus (Yes, THE Saint Wenceslaus) inside. The Good King was assassinated while grasping onto a door handle, trying to escape, so the actual door handle now leads to his crypt.
After turning the corner, we waited for Emily at the bathroom for what seemed like ten minutes. Naturally, when she got back, we all joked why she was in there so long. She protested her innocence and claimed that she was "waiting for Jess!" (who was standing with us). For the rest of the trip, anytime anyone needed to hit the lou for a number two, they said they needed to go "wait for Jess". Sorry, Jess!
Meeks really wanted to climb up the south tower of St. Vitus Cathedral, so we paid the 50 Koruna price to basically take a hot poker to our lungs. 287 stairs really doesn't seem like that many. Until you actually climb them. I realized we were in trouble when we hit 100, and all I hear is "187 more to go". F*** a duck. The fact that the winding staircase was dimly lit didn't help either. We took a minute to sit at the top of the stairs to re-orient ourselves and fill our lungs with that sweet nectar of the sky. But let me tell you, that view was worth it. We walked around the top of the tower, taking pictures unceasingly b/c every view seemed more beautiful than the last. I know I should shut up about how gorgeous this city was, but it's hard when you're reminded every SINGLE SECOND.
We made the dizzying decline back to the ground and walked to the rear of the palace compound, to get down the hill from which we once climbed. We walked through St. George's Square, past St. George's Basilica, and stopped at a cafe to use the bathroom and grab a beer. We really didn't want a drink, but we didn't want to use the place's bathroom and just leave without at least buying something. I dunno, it seems bad manners when people do that. But you know what else is bad manners? Freaking ignoring customers for ten minutes. Looking right at them and then deliberately walking away. Rude, yo. We got fed up and went back to those art stores and picked up a few things.
When we came out of the store, Meeks and Tim looked like 2 old men sitting outside in rocking chairs drinking spiced fruit beer. The girls also then learned that the boys had been sipping from a little bottle of herbed Czech liquor all morning; we were hosed! While the guys finished their beers, I picked up some Christmas gifts. The rest of the crowd walked ahead towards the Charles Bridge, but El, Meeks, and I got distracted by this cool looking cellar bar called Legends. We noticed that many pubs and bars in Prague are situated in basements, down at least 2 flights of stairs into what seemed like the abyss. It got a little confusing when someone would refer to a place we had been as "the basement bar." I kept thinking they were talking about Legends, so that became the canned response to the "basement bar" question.
After grabbing a few Pilsners at the only basement bar in Prague, we crossed the river via the famous Charles Bridge, this incredible stone bridge that is decorated with elaborate sculptures. Not only is the scenery gorgeous, there are musicians and artists that set up shop during the day there, making for some fantastic people watching. The street art in Prague was incredible and mirrored a lot of things we saw in actual galleries. We took about 1,000 pictures of the Charles Bridge and walked along the river to the building known as the Dancing House. It's an impressive feat of architecture, and it's nicknamed Fred and Ginger b/c of how the building seems to bend.
After a short snooze, we walked to Old Town Square to find a nice place for Thanksgiving dinner. Words really can't describe the sights around Old Town Square or the buzz of the crowd at night; it's just an awesome place. Tim, the only legit chef out of the group, took a look at a few menus in the area and said that the Italian restaurant in the square looked pretty decent. The decor was very cozy, the restaurant warm and the menu extensive. We settled in for a wonderful Thanksgiving meal, complete with bottles of Shiraz and topped off with a Czech dessert, a shot of absinthe. If you recall our Amsterdam adventures, you'll know how absolutely brutal absinthe is. I'm talking hair on your chest, howl at the moon, and high-five America kind of drink. Meeks spilled a bit of his, and it actually took some of the varnish off the table. Emily thought ahead to order Sprite to chase the shot, and Lord was it a lifesaver. Green booze is no thing to drink on Thanksgiving night.
We strolled along the streets of Old Town, stopped in the Hard Rock so Tim and Jess could get a souvenir for his family, and were approached by some guy handing out cards. The first thing he said to us was "Titty bar?" When we shook our heads no, he flipped over the same card he was holding and asked "Disco?" We joked that this was some magical card that would show something different every time it was turned over. Great magic trick, that one. We strolled a little longer, stopping in a side shop that sold nothing but handmade Matryoshka dolls (see Russia) of every sports team on God's green Earth. He noticed that I was wearing a Capitals hat, and he showed me to the Caps dolls, which I bought of course.
We noted an interesting bar called The Three Roses brewery that had these fantastic pint glasses that the guys were salivating over before heading back to a place we had a drink at earlier, Hotel U Zlatenc, which we found out was one of the top clubs in Prague. The bar was another cellar one (You mean Legends?), and you walked down at least two flights of stairs to get to the first floor bars. There was another set of stairs leading further down, and who knows how many more there were after that. Meeks had gone in first, and we immediately knew what section he was in when we saw go-go girls dancing on top of the bars.
The girls rotated and each girl danced two sets to the music. The girls weren't bad looking, but there was one girl who mesmerized Meeks in particular. She had wild, curly hair and a cute face. He and she (we later found out her name was Sylvia) kept making eyes at each other, which was entertaining to watch. There was this young kid wearing an American flag peace sign shirt who had ordered a pizza, and the dancers had to shimmy around his food as he was sitting right at the bar. Elliot joked with him about the pizza at the bar, and the guy (he must've been like 19) shrugged and said, "Women, food and drink. Is there a better combination???" Well, when you put it that way.... No, there isn't. He and his buddy made friends with El and Meeks, and the peace sign kid kept flashing the biggest stoner smile. He looked like the snozberry guy in Super Troopers (who coincidentally is married to Christina Hendricks), which made him instantly awesome. When he was done eating his pizza, he only had two slices left, so he was offering it to the people around him. The guys to his left weren't paying attention to him, so Meeks shouts over at them, "Hey! One of you lonely mother f'ers wanna eat some pizza?!!" Shocker, no one took any.
The next day, we met a little later and made our way back to this place that we had passed the day before that had tasty looking soup in bread bowls. It was right across the Charles Bridge, and they had 1/2 liters of Pilsner Urquell on tap for only 50 Koruna (~$2). The restaurant claimed to be a brewery, but they didn't serve house brews, just the mass distributed stuff. We grabbed a corner of the pub, and we were extra cozy. Maybe it was because they had outdoor heating lamps INSIDE the restaurant; if someone knocked it over, we'd all be f**ked.
The menu was massive, but every single one of us ordered the potato and mushroom soul in bread bowls. Bread bowls are such a universally beloved food item, and we were pretty sure that many of the world's problems could be solved through negotiations over bread bowls. Nobody can be still angry after eating delicious soup AND the bowl it came in. Our meals didn't disappoint, and we obliterated those bread bowls in no time flat. We all ordered one other food item, and I had the Czech potato salad. It was similar to Bavarian potato salad, my favorite, so I was in hog heaven. There was this rowdy group of old English guys who ordered round after round of beer and wine. We were loving these guys, because their only plans for the day involved doing day drinking. Oh, and we were eating lunch at 11am. We all chatted with them for a bit, and they were in town for a darts tournament because "it was something to do". I do envy that about Europeans; they can take weekend jaunts to Prague because "it's something to do". Back in the States, we can go to Canada. But that's still cool, eh?
We crossed back over the bridge and walked towards the northern part of the city to the Josefov, or Jewish Quarter, neighborhood of Prague. The Jewish Museum is a complex of several synagogues and the Old Jewish cemetery, the oldest Jewish cemetery in Europe. It's from the 15th century and contains the remains of many prominent Jewish leaders and rabbis. A kind lady at the entrance took our tickets (which were kind of expensive-about $15 each) and showed us the best route to take on a map. There was a box of yarmuchals for people to wear should they choose. The entrance led to the Pinkas synagogue, which I had prepared everyone for. The names and dates of disappearance of the over 70,000 Czech citizens who were killed or missing during the German occupation are hand-written on the walls, in neat rows and columns from floor to ceiling. The last names are written in red and the first initials and other identifying details in black. If you looked closely at the walls, you can see the pencil etches. The rooms were completely silent, and you were not allowed to take photographs . The names seemed endless as you climb stairs and passed through room after room. I always think that memorials that focus on the individual, like the Vietnam Wall, are the most powerful, and the Pinkas Synagogue is no exception. In the adjoining rooms were drawings and paintings that the children detained at Terezin concentration camp created. An artist taught classes to the children during that time to distract them from the horrors around them, and to help them process their feelings. The art is divided by topics ranging from food and living quarters to daily activities. Everything is very moving, and it really is sad to think about a child suffering.
The exit of the Pinkas synagogue leads to the Old Jewish cemetery, which was really quite the sight. Tombstones protruded from the ground at every angle and were etched in Hebrew. It was a fascinating area, and it reminded me of this (awfully written) book by Umberto Eco called The Prague Cemetery. Not a great read, but I was able to picture the cemetery I was now seeing.
Unfortunately, the other synagogues were closed to the public that day, so we passed through Jan Palach Square (the University student who self-immolated in protest of Communist rule in the 1960's) on our way to Nove Mesto (New Square) to visit the National Memorial to the Heroes of the Heydrich Terror. A few months back, I got into a WWII reading kick, and one of the books, HHhH by Laurent Binet, was about the Czech resistance to the Nazi Protectorate of Bohemia-Moravia and the assassination of the "Butcher of Prague", Reinhard Heydrich. He was also known as the third-most feared man in the Third Reich. I was fascinated by the story, so I chose the Memorial for a portfolio project in my grad class, Critical Approaches to Heritage Archaeology. The assignment was to analyze the site based on criteria learned in the class. For detailed information on the Memorial and the story behind the assassination, you can check out my project here.
I spent my time meticulously taking photographs, making notes and talking with the employee at the desk. The Memorial was small but incredibly fascinating, and I learned even more information about the Czech Resistance and assassination of Heydrich. Everyone agreed that it was a great museum, and I gathered a lot of great information for my project. Noted in the novel, and still across the street, is a pub called the Parachutsts' Pub that has original documents and photographs of the assassins on its walls. After visiting hte Museum and crypt, we grabbed a beer there before walking to a place that Tim found called Belushi's. We grabbed some snacks of wings and nachos and hung out there and listened to the great music that was playing. Emily met up with us there, and we all had a great time laughing and making fun of Meeks' actions the night before, "Hey! Eat some pizza!" We decided to have a late dinner and just enjoy going to different breweries and walking around this beautiful city.
Our next stop was the New Town Brewery, where the boys got an 8 beer sampler platter that contained the following beers: Nettle, a light lager, coffee beer, special of the month OEl800, Banana beer (my favorite), sour cherry, wheat, and a beer that was just called "dark". The wait staff was really rude, but it may have been because we watched the video of the guy reviewing Five Guys cheeseburgers and kept singing, "Damn! Damn! Dayummmmmn!" if a beer tasted good. Even when El wanted to buy a t-shirt, the guy was a huge jerk about it and didn't even give Elliot the shirt he asked for. Whatever happened to the customer always being right?
We walked back to the hotel and had dinner at the (what we learned after the fact) famous Cafe Louvre. The restaurant was PACKED, and we squeezed into one of the last table in the "Billiards" area. Billiards must've only recently become popular in the Czech Republic, because everyone we saw playing was God-awful. No Paul Newman hustling in this joint.
The waiter started off rude but then changed his tune when we started ordering large quantities of food. I ordered a homemade ginger ale that was basically seltzer water and simple syrup. What a disappointment. I had a chicken Caesar salad for dinner, and El and I split an order of garlic bread. Cafe Louvre is apparently known for their desserts, so we all ordered something off the menu. I had a very tasty tiramisu, and everyone else had different variations of chocolate cake. The ambiance was fun, and the laughs were a plentiful.
After dinner we walked back to Old Town Square and got lured into an English bar called George and the Dragon by some worker promising free drinks. The pub was crowded with people listening to some guy in a cowboy hat playing guitar and singing "Somebody That I used to Know", so we took off after our free "drink", a shot of peach schnapps. We walked around for awhile until we were intrigued by this 50's bar called James Deen. It's a two floor bar with most of the action going on in the cellar. They have a convertible cutout and all sorts of 50's paraphernalia on the walls and tables, including the 50's version of porn: pin-up girls showing their bra's. There are James Deen pictures everywhere, and there are multiple video screens showing clips from his movies. Every now and then the tv would switch to a promotional video with people dancing in the bar and singing, "James Deen! James Deen!" to this 50's bop beat. It was awkward. I was digging the 50's music playing, and Jess and I sang along to song after song. The bartenders were wearing tank tops and at one point lit a hanging chainsaw on fire. I understand that that statement probably makes no sense, but you're just going to have to trust me that that happened.
We left shortly after getting there and stopped in a club called Bombay Cafe, where we sat around and talked for awhile while sipping exotic Budvar beer aka the original Budweiser. We went next door to this hip-hop club that was playing AWESOME music from the late 90's/early 00's. I'm talking Nelly and other gloriousness from my high school and college years. The club was crowded, but we had so much fun dancing and laughing that it didn't bother us. What DID bother us were the people from Rota who were there on an MWR trip. They were incredibly obnoxious, and when we tried talking to them and telling them we were from Morón, they just acted like they wanted nothing to do with us. Whatever. Their loss! We danced for a few hours before the majority of us left the bar.
We were standing outside, deciding what to do, when I heard a familiar voice. I said to El that "I think that the guy talking behind us used to hang out at the Ugly Mug." I decided to find out, so I went up to him and the guy he was talking to and said, "Excuse me, can I ask you a question?" He smiled and said, "Yes, we're American." to which I replied, "Well, I already knew THAT, but did you used to live in DC?" His eyes lit up and said that he used to be the Director of the Redskins cheerleaders. Now most normal people would probably recognize someone from that job, but I am not a Redskins fan, nor am I a cheerleaders fan, so that flew over my head. I asked him if he used to hang out at the Ugly Mug, and that question set off all sorts of hugging and shouts of "Oh my God!!!! I can't believe we randomly saw each other in Prague!!" After all the shouting and jumping up and down, Donald told me that he was visiting his friend Nick, who used to be a Marine on 8th street and knew all these people I did from back in the day, who was studying in Prague. Donald himself is actually stationed in Djibouti with the USO, so meeting in Prague made it even MORE random. I introduced Donald and Nick to everyone in our group, and he and El chatted it up. We said that we were heading to a bar that Meeks had read was cool called Night Gym, so Donald agreed to go with us. On the long-ass walk there, we caught up on each other's lives and laughed about old times in the Mug. Once we finally made it to Night Gym, we realized it was a strip club. Oh Meeks and your delightful lack of information! By that point, Donald's friends were wondering where he was, and he didn't want to miss out on spending time with the people he came to visit, so we hugged goodbye and had one more laugh over randomly meeting on the street in Prague.
We got a later start the next morning, which was fine b/c we had basically done all the sightseeing we wanted the previous two days. Today was going to be all about strolling the city and enjoying ourselves. While we were walking, we stumbled upon an outdoor Christmas market that sold all sorts of fun items. There were handmade house clocks, hats, candies, and artwork. It was a nice surprise and a pleasant way to start the day. We (once again) made our way back to Old Town Square and took a zajillion pictures because it was so beautiful. Since it was a Saturday, the square was packed with tourists and street musicians, including one big band of bagpipers who put on an impromptu concert. Every building in Old Town Square seems worthy of note, like the Old Town Hall that has the famous astronomical clock. The medieval clock is a series of rings representing the sun, zodiac, moon and time. There are four figures that surround the clock: vanity, greed, death and a Turk (who previously represented pagan invaders, but the Czech people now spin it as "amusement and joy"). At every hour, the skeleton of death flips his hourglass to the sound of chimes. Images of the twelve apostles then pass by the windows behind the clock, and a cock crows at the end. There's a whole lot of business going on up there, but we sadly never were there for the hour changing.
We walked to St. James Church, the medieval church that still hangs a shriveled arm of a man inside. The story is that a thief was trying to steal the jewels off the statue of the Virgin Mary, and that the Virgin grabbed his arm so hard, that he couldn't pry it away. He had to have his arm amputated, and the remains serve as a warning to would-be thieves. Now, if you're not a believer in things like that, you can probably come up with an alternative version after learning that the church used to be popular with butchers back in the 1600's. Unfortunately, the Church was closed, but I was able to get a picture of one of the "Missing Marian" columns that used to be displayed in the Main Square.
We were starving, so we tried to find another microbrewery that was supposedly nearby for lunch, but we kept walking around in circles. Some woman passing out cards for a restaurant said that our group would get a 20% discount at Mama Lucy. We were so hungry that we just agreed to eat there. Our waitress looked like Chelsea Handler and spoke in a way that made you agree with whatever she said. We said she was like a dominatrix because, even if you disagreed with her suggestion, you felt compelled to go along with it. I had some onion soup and baked potato bites with melted blue cheese on them. The food was actually pretty good, and everyone seemed happy with their choices. The restaurant got a lot more crowded after we ate, so we sat there for awhile waiting to get our check. While we were sitting there talking, a young guy who worked there came over with another basket of biscuits and a caddy for condiments (even though we clearly already had one). We all stopped talking and basically stared at him without saying anything as he made room for the extra stuff on our table. It was so awkward, and we were so confused as to why he was bringing us stuff AFTER we finished eating. I remembered that Czech restaurants will charge you for EVERYTHING, so we figured that he was just trying to squeeze more Korunas out of us. Regardless, we burst out laughing b/c "who was that guy??"
On the way out of the restaurant, Tim almost got run over by a horse and carriage. That would've been a way to go, and would probably require some 'splaining to do. We went back to the Three Roses Brewery so the guys could get some glasses, and we ended up staying there for two hours. Everything in the brewery is made of wood, and there's this fantastic mural on the downstairs wall. We drank the house brews, which were delicious, and busted out Chappelle show quote after Chappelle show quote. We were getting a little sassy, because we realized how loud we were when other tables looked over when Jess, Stu and Meeks started singing, "The most famous reindeer of alllllllll!" We apologized to our fellow diners, and left pretty soon after.
Tim had read about the Prague Beer Museum that was supposed to be pretty great. We found it on the map, and it looked really far from where we were. We went into the nearest metro and unloaded about 100 coins to get us all tickets. Once in the train, we realized that the museum was a whopping one stop away. I guess that goes to show you how walkable the city was. After we got off our very brief metro ride, we found the Prague Beer Museum pretty quickly. It was a dark, narrow bar that was filled with patrons drinking one of the 30 beers brewed locally in Prague. Not wanting to miss out, Tim ordered 3 sampler platters of 10 beers apiece, so we could get a little of everything. They were little glasses, so we were each able to enjoy a few varieties. The atmosphere was so cool, and we all agreed that it was one of the best bars we had been to that trip.
Prague is big on making reservations, and we often ran into problems finding tables to sit. Even tables in bars would be reserved for people just going to drink. Since it was already late, there was no chance we'd get to sit somewhere for dinner. Someone spotted a pizza shop called Fasty's that looked pretty decent. The ordering area was crowded with people, so I waited outside while everyone ordered. Fasty's certainly didn't live up to its name, as I stood outside for a good 25 minutes. I don't know if they were milking the cows for the pizza's cheese or what in there, but I had an awkward conversation with a police officer who was also waiting for his food. He only spoke Czech and Slovak and a few English words, so our conversation was limited to me saying, "You police. Go take food." and him telling me the Czech word for window (I think it was Oso or something?) Needless to say, I was grateful when I saw everyone wave to me that the food was ready. The food was pretty garbagey, but we weren't really looking for some gourmet meal. Shortly after eating there though, my bowels started screaming to wait for Jess. We stopped at one more beer hall before heading home, but I just had some water to calm the tummy. The next morning, we hailed cabs to the airport and made our way back to a much-warmer Southern Spain and a quiet toilet where we could wait for Jess.
The two years we've been here, there hasn't been a city that could unseat Sevilla as my favorite. While I still love that city beyond words, Prague has taken over the throne. The architecture, the history, the food, the beer and the beauty of the city are unmatched by any other place I've seen in Europe. I hope that one day you can cheers "Nazdravi!" with your pint glasses of Pilsner while sitting in a basement bar in that beautiful city. It really is an unbelievable experience, especially if you go with family and friends who keep you laughing the whole time. Just make sure that Wayne Brady doesn't choke a b**ch....
I don't think we'll know what to do with ourselves once we're back in the States and are able to have an actual Thanksgiving meal. Last year, we had French food in London, and this year we decided to travel to Prague for the holiday. We have heard NOTHING but good things about Prague, and many friends here have told us that it's their all-time favorite European city. Plus, The Czech Republic is still on their own currency, so the exchange rate is beyond glorious. I suspect that will change as years distance the country's history with the Iron Curtain, so we were fortunate to enjoy a great deal while we still could. Plus, tickets from Malaga were cheap, so it was the perfect time to go. I am going to write the Vatican and have them pull some strings to glorify the fantasticness that is Skyscanner, because we have traveled to the craziest locations as a result of their prices. I'm pretty sure that Paul would write the Corinthians about it.
We drove down to Malaga that Wednesday after work and naturally got wings at O'Leary's in the airport. Our first flight was to Charles de Gaulle Paris, and the air vents weren't properly working. I was absolutely roasting, and the situation wasn't helped by me sitting bitch. We did sit next to a very interesting American who was FASCINATED with the fact we were at Pamplona and Elliot may/may not have run with the bulls. She kept asking him all sorts of questions, which he was happy to answer. She and her husband live down by Nerja and run volunteer trips for Americans. She also has a Hemingway blog, so I recommended some places to visit in Paris that are Hemingway-related (because I'm now an expert, natch).
Emily had bought everyone big cans of beer for the plane ride, and the second the plane was level, all you hear is a chorus of cans opening. Jessica and Tim were sitting a few rows behind everyone else, and she said they looked at each other and asked, "Was that the sound of beers opening?" Nah, we just gave everyone the signal. THE SIGNAL TO PAAARRRR-TAAY.
Meeks was beyond excited to be flying over Paris, and excitedly yelled "Hey guys, look at that!" loud enough that I think the pilots heard him. Charles de Gaulle airport is the biggest one in Paris, and also one of the most confusing airports I've ever been in. We took a bus to the terminal and followed signs that pointed towards connecting flights. Either the French were messin' with Sasquatch, or there was a translation problem, because even though we were in the right terminal, we walked out of it and had to go back through security to get back in. Mother f'er. We were reminded of how expensive Paris is when we got a snack at the only cafeteria in the terminal; I had these expensive noodles that tasted like I was eating hair dye. Now, I've never tasted hair dye before, but the noodles were what I imagined it to taste like. It's like when humid weather "smells like Florida". Crazy connected senses!
The connecting flight to Prague wasn't bad at all, except for the guy sitting behind us (next to Meeks) who kept spraying Binaca (when was the last time you saw someone use Binaca?) in his mouth and cologne that smelled like Atomic Bomb anal cream. Maybe he thought it smelled good? I suppose one man's cologne is another man's anal cream.
We had our first taste of the impossible to comprehend Czech language on the plane, when the flight attendants spoke over the intercom. The sound of the language is hard to describe, but if a rubber band guitar could speak, and was able to scat, that's what Czech sounds like. You know, the rubber band guitars that kids have to make for music projects? Picture it. Now picture it scatting. And know you know what Czech sounds like.
We took a free bus and got off at the last stop to take the metro the rest of the way to our hotel. The metro was seriously bare-bones, and public transport in Prague seemed to be based off the honor system. There are no guards on duty, no arms you have to pass through, and your only proof of paying for a ticket is the paper one you get stamped by a machine. There may be workers who walk through the cars and check tickets, but we didn't see any. You theoretically could travel all over Prague for free. I'm thinking their department of transportation has yet to figure that out.
We walked a block or two from the metro to our hotel, The Eurostars Thalia. The hotel was bad-ass, and it was only $80/night for a five star hotel. Thank you, Booking! Even the bathroom floors were heated, which made me turn to Elliot and say, "I want that". I would kill a baby dolphin for heated floors in our Spanish house. Shit gets COLD. After having our tootsies properly warmed, we grabbed some food at a nearby kebab shop before calling it a night.
We ventured out at nine the next morning to try to find this restaurant that served American breakfasts. We crossed the Vltava River into the Hradcany neighborhood to find it, but our search was in vain. On the way, we saw two police officers standing next to a goose on the sidewalk of the bridge we crossed. I'm not sure if they were trying to stare it down, but they really weren't making an effort to get the goose off the bridge. I mean, they didn't even try to convince the goose that he had so much to live for. Jerks.
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| You have so much life ahead of you! |
We didn't find the American breakfast, so we stopped at the first cafe we saw, Cafe Savoy. We later learned that it's one of the top restaurants in Prague, so it was a happy accident. The room was buzzing, and the choices seemed endless. I ordered a pot of fresh mint tea (memories of Marrakech) and a delicious Gruyere cheese omelet. Elliot and Tim ordered "English" and "French" breakfast respectively, and their portions basically took up the whole table. Jessica had this French toast that just looked too pretty to eat. And on top of that, everyone got their own basket of bread. Cafe Savoy was a great place to fuel up for the rest of our adventures.
We walked along the river, past interesting buildings and sculptures (see Facebook album of Bizarre Crap) and an adorable watermill towards the Prague Palace compound. The weather was cloudy and cool, but not cold enough to keep us from walking all over the city. The temperature was in the low 40's during the day and mid to high 30's at night; to be honest with you, it was a nice change of pace from the 60 degree "fall" weather of Spain. I know that the second we get back to the States, I'll be bitching about how cold it is. And DC doesn't even get that cold. I know, I know, somebody call the WAAHHHMBULANCE.
On the climb up the hill to the Compound, we stopped in this fantastic art gallery that had unique, almost "LSD trippy" paintings of Prague. And true to that exchange rate, it was cheap as all get out. We grabbed a card from the owner and went back and purchased some on our way down the hill.
The Palace Compound lies at the top of a hill that offers spectacular views of the city. There was a four piece orchestra band playing classical music at the top, and it created the perfect soundtrack for the moment. There are two guards standing on either side of the Palace entrance and a big plaza in front of it. There is a statue of the first President of Czechoslovakia that is still adorned with fresh flowers. That was actually a common sight throughout our trip: statues and memorials bedecked with flowers. It's refreshing to see them so well-cared for.
The plaza was, shocker, beautiful, and we got there about 30 minutes before the noon changing of the Palace guards, which I had read to be the most impressive time to see it. We walked through the Plaza to Loretta Square to see Cernin Palace, the palace that was taken over by the Nazis for their headquarters during the Third Reich "Protektorate". Cernin Palace was also the location of the Warsaw Pact signing. It's no longer open to the public, but it was still neat to see the building due to the history behind it.
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| Cernin Palace |
We then walked down a small hill to the 16th century Baroque church, Our Lady of Loretta, that was a place of pilgrimage at the time it was built. You're greeted at the entrance by a row of weathered stone statues, and two old ladies work the admissions window. We purchased a "picture pass" which is basically a Busch way of charging people to take pictures inside. I'm glad we did though, as it was a really unique space. There were two outdoor "floors" that surround an outdoor courtyard. Along the walls of the first floor are painted images of saints in these wooden panels. There are frescoes on the ceiling, and it's easy to almost walk into a saint while you're looking above you. In the middle of the courtyard is a chapel made entirely of carved, white marble. There wasn't much to the inside, but the outside looked like a wedding cake. There was another chapel, Our Lady of Sorrows, that w3as a different story. The interior was huge, and no detail was spared in its decor: statues, gold, paintings, marble, you name it, it was there.
As we made our way to the exit, I spotted a statue of a crucified woman with a beard. I had read ahead of time that the statue was of St. Astorias, the daughter of a Portuguese king. She was promised by her father to marry the King of Sicily, and she prayed and cried all night that the marriage contract would be broken. When she awoke the next morning, she had a full beard. The marriage was cancelled, but her father was humiliated and crucified her. She is now the patron saint of the God-forsaken.
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| St. Astorias |
A cute guard wasn't the only scenery that caught our eyes. St. Vitus cathedral is this stunning Gothic cathedral (thin and crispy!) that had gorgeous stained glass windows (which cathedral doesn't?) and the remains of St. Wenceslaus (Yes, THE Saint Wenceslaus) inside. The Good King was assassinated while grasping onto a door handle, trying to escape, so the actual door handle now leads to his crypt.
After turning the corner, we waited for Emily at the bathroom for what seemed like ten minutes. Naturally, when she got back, we all joked why she was in there so long. She protested her innocence and claimed that she was "waiting for Jess!" (who was standing with us). For the rest of the trip, anytime anyone needed to hit the lou for a number two, they said they needed to go "wait for Jess". Sorry, Jess!
Meeks really wanted to climb up the south tower of St. Vitus Cathedral, so we paid the 50 Koruna price to basically take a hot poker to our lungs. 287 stairs really doesn't seem like that many. Until you actually climb them. I realized we were in trouble when we hit 100, and all I hear is "187 more to go". F*** a duck. The fact that the winding staircase was dimly lit didn't help either. We took a minute to sit at the top of the stairs to re-orient ourselves and fill our lungs with that sweet nectar of the sky. But let me tell you, that view was worth it. We walked around the top of the tower, taking pictures unceasingly b/c every view seemed more beautiful than the last. I know I should shut up about how gorgeous this city was, but it's hard when you're reminded every SINGLE SECOND.
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| Que bonita! |
When we came out of the store, Meeks and Tim looked like 2 old men sitting outside in rocking chairs drinking spiced fruit beer. The girls also then learned that the boys had been sipping from a little bottle of herbed Czech liquor all morning; we were hosed! While the guys finished their beers, I picked up some Christmas gifts. The rest of the crowd walked ahead towards the Charles Bridge, but El, Meeks, and I got distracted by this cool looking cellar bar called Legends. We noticed that many pubs and bars in Prague are situated in basements, down at least 2 flights of stairs into what seemed like the abyss. It got a little confusing when someone would refer to a place we had been as "the basement bar." I kept thinking they were talking about Legends, so that became the canned response to the "basement bar" question.
After grabbing a few Pilsners at the only basement bar in Prague, we crossed the river via the famous Charles Bridge, this incredible stone bridge that is decorated with elaborate sculptures. Not only is the scenery gorgeous, there are musicians and artists that set up shop during the day there, making for some fantastic people watching. The street art in Prague was incredible and mirrored a lot of things we saw in actual galleries. We took about 1,000 pictures of the Charles Bridge and walked along the river to the building known as the Dancing House. It's an impressive feat of architecture, and it's nicknamed Fred and Ginger b/c of how the building seems to bend.
After a short snooze, we walked to Old Town Square to find a nice place for Thanksgiving dinner. Words really can't describe the sights around Old Town Square or the buzz of the crowd at night; it's just an awesome place. Tim, the only legit chef out of the group, took a look at a few menus in the area and said that the Italian restaurant in the square looked pretty decent. The decor was very cozy, the restaurant warm and the menu extensive. We settled in for a wonderful Thanksgiving meal, complete with bottles of Shiraz and topped off with a Czech dessert, a shot of absinthe. If you recall our Amsterdam adventures, you'll know how absolutely brutal absinthe is. I'm talking hair on your chest, howl at the moon, and high-five America kind of drink. Meeks spilled a bit of his, and it actually took some of the varnish off the table. Emily thought ahead to order Sprite to chase the shot, and Lord was it a lifesaver. Green booze is no thing to drink on Thanksgiving night.
We strolled along the streets of Old Town, stopped in the Hard Rock so Tim and Jess could get a souvenir for his family, and were approached by some guy handing out cards. The first thing he said to us was "Titty bar?" When we shook our heads no, he flipped over the same card he was holding and asked "Disco?" We joked that this was some magical card that would show something different every time it was turned over. Great magic trick, that one. We strolled a little longer, stopping in a side shop that sold nothing but handmade Matryoshka dolls (see Russia) of every sports team on God's green Earth. He noticed that I was wearing a Capitals hat, and he showed me to the Caps dolls, which I bought of course.
We noted an interesting bar called The Three Roses brewery that had these fantastic pint glasses that the guys were salivating over before heading back to a place we had a drink at earlier, Hotel U Zlatenc, which we found out was one of the top clubs in Prague. The bar was another cellar one (You mean Legends?), and you walked down at least two flights of stairs to get to the first floor bars. There was another set of stairs leading further down, and who knows how many more there were after that. Meeks had gone in first, and we immediately knew what section he was in when we saw go-go girls dancing on top of the bars.
The girls rotated and each girl danced two sets to the music. The girls weren't bad looking, but there was one girl who mesmerized Meeks in particular. She had wild, curly hair and a cute face. He and she (we later found out her name was Sylvia) kept making eyes at each other, which was entertaining to watch. There was this young kid wearing an American flag peace sign shirt who had ordered a pizza, and the dancers had to shimmy around his food as he was sitting right at the bar. Elliot joked with him about the pizza at the bar, and the guy (he must've been like 19) shrugged and said, "Women, food and drink. Is there a better combination???" Well, when you put it that way.... No, there isn't. He and his buddy made friends with El and Meeks, and the peace sign kid kept flashing the biggest stoner smile. He looked like the snozberry guy in Super Troopers (who coincidentally is married to Christina Hendricks), which made him instantly awesome. When he was done eating his pizza, he only had two slices left, so he was offering it to the people around him. The guys to his left weren't paying attention to him, so Meeks shouts over at them, "Hey! One of you lonely mother f'ers wanna eat some pizza?!!" Shocker, no one took any.
The next day, we met a little later and made our way back to this place that we had passed the day before that had tasty looking soup in bread bowls. It was right across the Charles Bridge, and they had 1/2 liters of Pilsner Urquell on tap for only 50 Koruna (~$2). The restaurant claimed to be a brewery, but they didn't serve house brews, just the mass distributed stuff. We grabbed a corner of the pub, and we were extra cozy. Maybe it was because they had outdoor heating lamps INSIDE the restaurant; if someone knocked it over, we'd all be f**ked.
The menu was massive, but every single one of us ordered the potato and mushroom soul in bread bowls. Bread bowls are such a universally beloved food item, and we were pretty sure that many of the world's problems could be solved through negotiations over bread bowls. Nobody can be still angry after eating delicious soup AND the bowl it came in. Our meals didn't disappoint, and we obliterated those bread bowls in no time flat. We all ordered one other food item, and I had the Czech potato salad. It was similar to Bavarian potato salad, my favorite, so I was in hog heaven. There was this rowdy group of old English guys who ordered round after round of beer and wine. We were loving these guys, because their only plans for the day involved doing day drinking. Oh, and we were eating lunch at 11am. We all chatted with them for a bit, and they were in town for a darts tournament because "it was something to do". I do envy that about Europeans; they can take weekend jaunts to Prague because "it's something to do". Back in the States, we can go to Canada. But that's still cool, eh?
We crossed back over the bridge and walked towards the northern part of the city to the Josefov, or Jewish Quarter, neighborhood of Prague. The Jewish Museum is a complex of several synagogues and the Old Jewish cemetery, the oldest Jewish cemetery in Europe. It's from the 15th century and contains the remains of many prominent Jewish leaders and rabbis. A kind lady at the entrance took our tickets (which were kind of expensive-about $15 each) and showed us the best route to take on a map. There was a box of yarmuchals for people to wear should they choose. The entrance led to the Pinkas synagogue, which I had prepared everyone for. The names and dates of disappearance of the over 70,000 Czech citizens who were killed or missing during the German occupation are hand-written on the walls, in neat rows and columns from floor to ceiling. The last names are written in red and the first initials and other identifying details in black. If you looked closely at the walls, you can see the pencil etches. The rooms were completely silent, and you were not allowed to take photographs . The names seemed endless as you climb stairs and passed through room after room. I always think that memorials that focus on the individual, like the Vietnam Wall, are the most powerful, and the Pinkas Synagogue is no exception. In the adjoining rooms were drawings and paintings that the children detained at Terezin concentration camp created. An artist taught classes to the children during that time to distract them from the horrors around them, and to help them process their feelings. The art is divided by topics ranging from food and living quarters to daily activities. Everything is very moving, and it really is sad to think about a child suffering.
The exit of the Pinkas synagogue leads to the Old Jewish cemetery, which was really quite the sight. Tombstones protruded from the ground at every angle and were etched in Hebrew. It was a fascinating area, and it reminded me of this (awfully written) book by Umberto Eco called The Prague Cemetery. Not a great read, but I was able to picture the cemetery I was now seeing.
Unfortunately, the other synagogues were closed to the public that day, so we passed through Jan Palach Square (the University student who self-immolated in protest of Communist rule in the 1960's) on our way to Nove Mesto (New Square) to visit the National Memorial to the Heroes of the Heydrich Terror. A few months back, I got into a WWII reading kick, and one of the books, HHhH by Laurent Binet, was about the Czech resistance to the Nazi Protectorate of Bohemia-Moravia and the assassination of the "Butcher of Prague", Reinhard Heydrich. He was also known as the third-most feared man in the Third Reich. I was fascinated by the story, so I chose the Memorial for a portfolio project in my grad class, Critical Approaches to Heritage Archaeology. The assignment was to analyze the site based on criteria learned in the class. For detailed information on the Memorial and the story behind the assassination, you can check out my project here.
I spent my time meticulously taking photographs, making notes and talking with the employee at the desk. The Memorial was small but incredibly fascinating, and I learned even more information about the Czech Resistance and assassination of Heydrich. Everyone agreed that it was a great museum, and I gathered a lot of great information for my project. Noted in the novel, and still across the street, is a pub called the Parachutsts' Pub that has original documents and photographs of the assassins on its walls. After visiting hte Museum and crypt, we grabbed a beer there before walking to a place that Tim found called Belushi's. We grabbed some snacks of wings and nachos and hung out there and listened to the great music that was playing. Emily met up with us there, and we all had a great time laughing and making fun of Meeks' actions the night before, "Hey! Eat some pizza!" We decided to have a late dinner and just enjoy going to different breweries and walking around this beautiful city.
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| The crypt where the assassins hid |
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| The museum portion of the Memorial |
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| The Parchutists' Pub |
We walked back to the hotel and had dinner at the (what we learned after the fact) famous Cafe Louvre. The restaurant was PACKED, and we squeezed into one of the last table in the "Billiards" area. Billiards must've only recently become popular in the Czech Republic, because everyone we saw playing was God-awful. No Paul Newman hustling in this joint.
The waiter started off rude but then changed his tune when we started ordering large quantities of food. I ordered a homemade ginger ale that was basically seltzer water and simple syrup. What a disappointment. I had a chicken Caesar salad for dinner, and El and I split an order of garlic bread. Cafe Louvre is apparently known for their desserts, so we all ordered something off the menu. I had a very tasty tiramisu, and everyone else had different variations of chocolate cake. The ambiance was fun, and the laughs were a plentiful.
After dinner we walked back to Old Town Square and got lured into an English bar called George and the Dragon by some worker promising free drinks. The pub was crowded with people listening to some guy in a cowboy hat playing guitar and singing "Somebody That I used to Know", so we took off after our free "drink", a shot of peach schnapps. We walked around for awhile until we were intrigued by this 50's bar called James Deen. It's a two floor bar with most of the action going on in the cellar. They have a convertible cutout and all sorts of 50's paraphernalia on the walls and tables, including the 50's version of porn: pin-up girls showing their bra's. There are James Deen pictures everywhere, and there are multiple video screens showing clips from his movies. Every now and then the tv would switch to a promotional video with people dancing in the bar and singing, "James Deen! James Deen!" to this 50's bop beat. It was awkward. I was digging the 50's music playing, and Jess and I sang along to song after song. The bartenders were wearing tank tops and at one point lit a hanging chainsaw on fire. I understand that that statement probably makes no sense, but you're just going to have to trust me that that happened.
We left shortly after getting there and stopped in a club called Bombay Cafe, where we sat around and talked for awhile while sipping exotic Budvar beer aka the original Budweiser. We went next door to this hip-hop club that was playing AWESOME music from the late 90's/early 00's. I'm talking Nelly and other gloriousness from my high school and college years. The club was crowded, but we had so much fun dancing and laughing that it didn't bother us. What DID bother us were the people from Rota who were there on an MWR trip. They were incredibly obnoxious, and when we tried talking to them and telling them we were from Morón, they just acted like they wanted nothing to do with us. Whatever. Their loss! We danced for a few hours before the majority of us left the bar.
We were standing outside, deciding what to do, when I heard a familiar voice. I said to El that "I think that the guy talking behind us used to hang out at the Ugly Mug." I decided to find out, so I went up to him and the guy he was talking to and said, "Excuse me, can I ask you a question?" He smiled and said, "Yes, we're American." to which I replied, "Well, I already knew THAT, but did you used to live in DC?" His eyes lit up and said that he used to be the Director of the Redskins cheerleaders. Now most normal people would probably recognize someone from that job, but I am not a Redskins fan, nor am I a cheerleaders fan, so that flew over my head. I asked him if he used to hang out at the Ugly Mug, and that question set off all sorts of hugging and shouts of "Oh my God!!!! I can't believe we randomly saw each other in Prague!!" After all the shouting and jumping up and down, Donald told me that he was visiting his friend Nick, who used to be a Marine on 8th street and knew all these people I did from back in the day, who was studying in Prague. Donald himself is actually stationed in Djibouti with the USO, so meeting in Prague made it even MORE random. I introduced Donald and Nick to everyone in our group, and he and El chatted it up. We said that we were heading to a bar that Meeks had read was cool called Night Gym, so Donald agreed to go with us. On the long-ass walk there, we caught up on each other's lives and laughed about old times in the Mug. Once we finally made it to Night Gym, we realized it was a strip club. Oh Meeks and your delightful lack of information! By that point, Donald's friends were wondering where he was, and he didn't want to miss out on spending time with the people he came to visit, so we hugged goodbye and had one more laugh over randomly meeting on the street in Prague.
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| What're the odds???? |
We walked to St. James Church, the medieval church that still hangs a shriveled arm of a man inside. The story is that a thief was trying to steal the jewels off the statue of the Virgin Mary, and that the Virgin grabbed his arm so hard, that he couldn't pry it away. He had to have his arm amputated, and the remains serve as a warning to would-be thieves. Now, if you're not a believer in things like that, you can probably come up with an alternative version after learning that the church used to be popular with butchers back in the 1600's. Unfortunately, the Church was closed, but I was able to get a picture of one of the "Missing Marian" columns that used to be displayed in the Main Square.
We were starving, so we tried to find another microbrewery that was supposedly nearby for lunch, but we kept walking around in circles. Some woman passing out cards for a restaurant said that our group would get a 20% discount at Mama Lucy. We were so hungry that we just agreed to eat there. Our waitress looked like Chelsea Handler and spoke in a way that made you agree with whatever she said. We said she was like a dominatrix because, even if you disagreed with her suggestion, you felt compelled to go along with it. I had some onion soup and baked potato bites with melted blue cheese on them. The food was actually pretty good, and everyone seemed happy with their choices. The restaurant got a lot more crowded after we ate, so we sat there for awhile waiting to get our check. While we were sitting there talking, a young guy who worked there came over with another basket of biscuits and a caddy for condiments (even though we clearly already had one). We all stopped talking and basically stared at him without saying anything as he made room for the extra stuff on our table. It was so awkward, and we were so confused as to why he was bringing us stuff AFTER we finished eating. I remembered that Czech restaurants will charge you for EVERYTHING, so we figured that he was just trying to squeeze more Korunas out of us. Regardless, we burst out laughing b/c "who was that guy??"
On the way out of the restaurant, Tim almost got run over by a horse and carriage. That would've been a way to go, and would probably require some 'splaining to do. We went back to the Three Roses Brewery so the guys could get some glasses, and we ended up staying there for two hours. Everything in the brewery is made of wood, and there's this fantastic mural on the downstairs wall. We drank the house brews, which were delicious, and busted out Chappelle show quote after Chappelle show quote. We were getting a little sassy, because we realized how loud we were when other tables looked over when Jess, Stu and Meeks started singing, "The most famous reindeer of alllllllll!" We apologized to our fellow diners, and left pretty soon after.
Tim had read about the Prague Beer Museum that was supposed to be pretty great. We found it on the map, and it looked really far from where we were. We went into the nearest metro and unloaded about 100 coins to get us all tickets. Once in the train, we realized that the museum was a whopping one stop away. I guess that goes to show you how walkable the city was. After we got off our very brief metro ride, we found the Prague Beer Museum pretty quickly. It was a dark, narrow bar that was filled with patrons drinking one of the 30 beers brewed locally in Prague. Not wanting to miss out, Tim ordered 3 sampler platters of 10 beers apiece, so we could get a little of everything. They were little glasses, so we were each able to enjoy a few varieties. The atmosphere was so cool, and we all agreed that it was one of the best bars we had been to that trip.
Prague is big on making reservations, and we often ran into problems finding tables to sit. Even tables in bars would be reserved for people just going to drink. Since it was already late, there was no chance we'd get to sit somewhere for dinner. Someone spotted a pizza shop called Fasty's that looked pretty decent. The ordering area was crowded with people, so I waited outside while everyone ordered. Fasty's certainly didn't live up to its name, as I stood outside for a good 25 minutes. I don't know if they were milking the cows for the pizza's cheese or what in there, but I had an awkward conversation with a police officer who was also waiting for his food. He only spoke Czech and Slovak and a few English words, so our conversation was limited to me saying, "You police. Go take food." and him telling me the Czech word for window (I think it was Oso or something?) Needless to say, I was grateful when I saw everyone wave to me that the food was ready. The food was pretty garbagey, but we weren't really looking for some gourmet meal. Shortly after eating there though, my bowels started screaming to wait for Jess. We stopped at one more beer hall before heading home, but I just had some water to calm the tummy. The next morning, we hailed cabs to the airport and made our way back to a much-warmer Southern Spain and a quiet toilet where we could wait for Jess.
The two years we've been here, there hasn't been a city that could unseat Sevilla as my favorite. While I still love that city beyond words, Prague has taken over the throne. The architecture, the history, the food, the beer and the beauty of the city are unmatched by any other place I've seen in Europe. I hope that one day you can cheers "Nazdravi!" with your pint glasses of Pilsner while sitting in a basement bar in that beautiful city. It really is an unbelievable experience, especially if you go with family and friends who keep you laughing the whole time. Just make sure that Wayne Brady doesn't choke a b**ch....
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