Prague: because no one can take it anymore (3)

Important about the dinner is that, before ordering anything, I asked the waiter if he had also czech beer. The word “Budweiser” written in the menu really scared me: I hadn’t given myself all the work of getting there, to drink north-american beer. Waiter smiled politely, and said it was actual czech “Budvar” beer. Gott sei Dank.

Some local food and half a liter beer later, after asking my closest friend mr. waiter if the thing he told me when I first got there was “dobri DIEN” and he told me it was more like “dobri DEN”, I commanded my fairly drunk self out of there. Horosho.

As a matter of fact, I forgot to write that I’ve been to a concert before having dinner. Some vendor harassed me pretty efficiently and I bought the ticket and just went, completely unplanned. A string quintet played Dvorak, Vivaldi (all four seasons except my favorite, the winter), Verdi and someone else’s work. Bass player was the best part of the show: he managed to play always with a huge smile on his face, never made a mistake and, as if making fun of me, turned his instrument around while playing a few times. I wish I can be passionate about something like he is with playing bass. Had to applause him standing.

Just a mirror for the sunWell it was a pleasant evening, the wind kissed me with refreshing coolness and I couldn’t help looking for the moon. She’s not there… not anymore. I kept walking a bit longer, actually figuring out more exactly where I was going to go in the next morning. I had seen everything but the touristic stuff. The wandering part was definetely over. So I took the tram in the wrong direction, found myself in the middle of nowhere and waited 20 minutes for the right tram to come, walking in circles and taking shaky pictures of the cars.

Sleeping was a lot more troublesome than I thought, even after marching approximately 15 kilometers on a single day. I finished a book, listened to music until my palmtop was dead. Felt like writing something, but had no pen and no paper. Wished for my palmtop to ressurect. Somewhere between these phases I passed out, and woke up miraculously on time for breakfast.

Sunday, my second and last day there. Now I was already a connoisseur. But still wanting to avoid objectivity, went walking around at this beautiful park, happened to find an amazing view by accident and then targeted the usual stuff that everyone visits. Which were also not bad at all, I remember sitting on a bench inside the “fortress” and looking at the blue skies for a long time. Wanted to take pictures but my camera was by that time only depressing me, I needed something with manual focus and manual exposure. Possibly manual everything.

Missing the train back home would mean serious trouble, so I went to the wrong train station earlier than needed. Smart move because then I had time to take the subway again and find the right one.

The trip back was pretty average. Train ran over and killed a person. Four hours until the composition could move further. In the mean time, met three young russian relatives and could say “I don’t speak Russian” to them, and they understood. Great. I said where I come from (after guessing their nationality right), and heard a syncronized “oh”. One of them was reading Dostoievski, and offered me a taste, but I gave up. One step at a time.


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September 2008
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