Free weekend in Prague! Free weekend in Prague! Whoop!
Escaping from Berlin for a few days and having a bit of silence on the train ride to Prague was completely refreshing. Not only that, but all the guys and girls survived living in the same room. All nine of us. Props to our group for having made it this far and not slitting each other’s throats.
Met some pretty interesting characters on the train. Of course, they all spoke Czech or German, but that didn’t stop me from having a go at trying to get to know them. One of them, this guy named Voitka, spoke halfway decent English. It was nice to get to personally know a Czech.
Before we left for Prague, Nils, the infamous twenty-something program coordinator for AIB joked with us that the only thing to eat in the city was dog. What a trickster.
But seriously. There was nothing to eat the first night but dog, essentially. There’s this epidemic in Europe characterized by food vendors closing at 8 o’clock. If you’ve ever had a hankering for a late night snack, avoid Europe at all costs. It’s ironic when you think about the stereotype of Europeans being pot-smoking liberals. Having the munchies in Europe is an untenable status, especially in Prgaue. Regardless, the real problem behind our adventures into the sketch-tastic neighborhood outside the garrison of our wonderful hostel (I mean that non-sarcastically) was the guy getting arrested at the underground pizza place behind the gas station a short mile and a half walk away. We settled for gas station food.
Oh, I almost forgot about the even stranger purchase I made at this mysterious store run by blank-faced Vietnamese immigrants. Maybe it was the open soda cans in the drink refrigerator, or the two dozen horridly-dressed mannequins in the tiny space, or the general disorganization of EVERYTHING—but something was off about this joint. No really, something was off. It didn’t help that there was an argument in Vietamese taking place behind the mannequins, or that the guy that stared at me like was off his rocker didn’t know the prices of anything (because, I suspect, there were no prices). It also didn’t help that I bought a bottle of strawberry syrup, which looked just like a drink, and was placed with the few available drinks.
Eastern Europe observation number one: disorganized.
Prague has some redeeming qualities though, but in mind less interesting because it seems that few huge historical events have emerged from Prague. Sure, it was the seat of the Holy Roman “Empire” and played a role in the Protestant Reformation, but ultimately, it didn’t seem all that “impressive” to me, if that makes any sense. For what it’s worth the Prague Castle made for an interesting visit, and was an incredible work of architecture. It is a beautiful place, to be sure, but one whose economy appears to run mostly off of tourism. This is unfortunate because I am a tourism hypocrite. I am a tourist when I am here, but want to do as few “touristy” things as possible and certainly want to appear as least like one as possible. In other words, I want to talk to locals and experience the culture (which is a problem since Czech is very difficult) rather than take a billion pictures of things I can just Google. I know this sounds snooty, and I took pictures anyway so consider my hypocrisy acknowledged, ha!
On another note, goulash—not half bad, not bad at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment