Hopscotching Around Central Europe--Part II

Prague-Take 1

We had been heading in the general direction of east through Europe.  However we veered northward, as we're about to leave two of Europe's most important cities out.

Prague instantly felt different.  Even on the train we could tell, namely from the party in the cabin next to ours.  There was obviously beer (or vodka) involved, as deep throaty voice belted out one patriotic song after another.  Actually I don't what they were singing, but they reminded me of Russian guys when they get drunk; they love singing about the Motherland.  Whatever they were singing, it put a smile on everyone's face, mainly become one of the guys was completely off key.

We had entered a land completely foreign to us.  The language was different (we didn't know a word of Czech), the currency was different (not being part of the Eurozone), the food was... well what was the food?  What did Czechs eat?

Well here's our goulash story.  When we pulled into Prague, and had to transfer from metro to tram, and got lots of angry looks in the process due to our bags bumping around hitting people...anyway, we were hungry.  From the hostel we had to take another tram then metro to get to the centre.  Chris was bent on seeing the Charles Bridge.  But the rain started chucking down.  We made is as far as the main square, which I have to say, on seeing the first time, took my breath away.  There's nothing mediocre about Prague's main square.  Every direction you look is some fantastic building.  It's very Gothic, very Bohemian.  I don't know what it is, it's just very cool to look at.  There was a group gathered with their umbrellas by a giant belltower.  It was near the hour so I figured the clock must do something special to bring out a crowd in the rain.  Sure enough when the hour struck, tiny figures come revolving out of the clock and trumpets were heralded.  Everyone cheered.  Ok, it was kind of exciting, but still the rain was chucking it down.  We decided that we weren't going to continue to the Charles Bridge in the rain.  There was no street food to be found, and we had found a cute little place aways back where we had seen goulash on the menu.  That sounded so homey and comforting, especially in this weather.  We headed back towards the goulash.

We should have taken the hint at the door.  We were looking over the menu, trying to stay out of the rain.  A man came out and shut the door.  Whether he was trying to keep us or the rain out, it's hard to say.  Anyway, the goulash looked good, and the price was good, so we went in.

Instantly we were ignored.  In our time in Europe, it's hard to know exactly what the custom is in each place and how customer service is viewed.  I was willing to give a little patience, as this wasn't exactly the U.S. standard of service.  Europe isn't a tipping society, so staff aren't going the extra mile to make a customer happy.  Sure, tips are given, but only in rounding up the bill.  Ten percent is only given if the service is superb.  Well, this service wasn't superb.  It was fairly non-existent at first as we stood there dripping in the entrance.  Finally a girl with red hair nodded at a table.  After ignoring us for a few good minutes, she slapped some menus down (there is none of the 'Hi I'm Emily, I'll be your waitress today' sort of thing.  Actually that kind of service doesn't exist outside of the U.S.).  We had decided fairly quickly what we wanted, but we waited an age for the waitress to come get our order.  We tried making eye contact several times, and even though it achieved, the waitress wouldn't come.  It felt as if we were being snubbed.  I had a feeling, just a feeling, and looking around, I noticed that the other patrons were dressed nicely.  Nothing over the top; something like smart casual.  Chris and I were casual casual, Chris wearing his Superman shirt (he loves that shirt) and my big clomping hiking boots.  I didn't know if it was a snobbery thing, like if you dine in at a place you should dress up, or if was evident that we were not there to order their priciest bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.  Whatever it is, I didn't approve.  Still I tried to find the humour in it.

Our order was finally taken.  We had ordered beers, and soon enough I felt an arm slam past my elbow as the waitress thumped down two jugs of beer.  That had taken me aback, as she had been so abrupt, not even apologizing for jostling my arm.  Still, I tried to chalk it up to Bohemian charm.

The food came, and it was good enough.  You really can't complain for a restaurant meal for two for under $10.  It was warming, the beer was good, we sat there and watched with curiosity as the waitress served the table next to ours.  First of all she put an empty tray down on our table as if we weren't even sitting there.  Then she made a show of holding up a bottle of wine for them, and opening it.  She discarded the foil and cork on the tray.  She was taking her time serving them, and we just stared at her.  She didn't seemed bothered in the least.  I watched Chris' face as he got more and more agitated.  Finally one of the other waiters swooped by and removed the tray.  I thought the whole thing was great.  There comes a point where rudeness is so over the top it's hard to believe it's even happening.  Chris was furious though, and when the bill came, he was pleased to see it was an exact figure, without change to be given.  Seen as how there wouldn't be any rounded up, a tip wouldn't have been needed.  Though in the end Chris did insist on leaving something for our red-headed waitress.  He fished through the deepest pockets of his wallet and found 3 pence there.  That's British pence.  Completely worthless in Britain, let alone the Czech Republic.  Chris and I laughed all the way through the rain back to our hostel.

Mother Should I Build the Wall?

That was it for Prague.  It was like a one-night stand, and not even a good one.  We'd be back in two days.  We had Berlin to see before giving this feisty minx another chance.

The train ride was fairly scenic.  The tracks followed a river almost all the way up  to the border of Germany.  There was a Czech man and woman in our cabin, and I could tell without knowing their language that the woman hated him.  She'd stare daggers in him every time he tried talking to her.  Then she stomped on his foot.  Chris and I looked like the Couple of the Year next to them.

I told Chris, without any uncertainty, that food was going to be needed as soon as we hit the main station in Berlin.  This was not up for discussion.  I was tired of always getting to the hostel first.  Getting to the hostel in each city is hard enough.  I needed fuel.  Luckily we found a fish n chips place right as we got off the train.  I never knew that Germans did fish n chips so brilliantly.  They did it in a cone, in something that looked like a newspaper.  It was a nice touch, considering that the Brits don't do it like that anymore (ink being toxic or something like that).  We agreed that the meal was fab, then went to brave the Berlin transport system.

We got scolded at a lot in German that day, as I believe we were traveling during rush hour.  Our bags were in the way as usual.  I wanted to tell these people that it's not easy carrying around these things.  Sorry for taking up your precious room.  Don't make me bring up the war, people.  I'm warning you.

Our hostel was modernly fashionable in the only way a German hostel could be.  There were pictures of a naked woman in various poses (she looked like she was suffering from menstral cramps) up and down our hallway.  Right across the hallway from the pubic hair photo was our room.  We had booked a private room, a real treat.  What we ended up with was a whole dorm room to ourselves.  The whole building had a institutional feel to it, as if it had been used for something else back in it's communist days.  Sure enough we found out that we were on the East side, not being that far from the wall.  Just a block down from the hostel was a street with blue piping along it.  Chris told me that once the wall came down they put up these pipes to outline where it had been.  It's an interesting feature to the city.

We headed right into the heart of historic Berlin.  The Bradenburg Gate.  Other than the wall, I always thought it was the defining monument in Berlin.  It's a happy place, where flags are waved and banners are held reading 'Welcome to Berlin.'  You can have your photo taken with German and American soldiers and have your passport stamped with an old East German stamp.  Of course this is purely for the tourists, but it's fun to see nonetheless.  The history of the gate is a lot less happy, as we were to see in pictures nearby.  This whole area along this section of the wall was called the Death Zone.  The gate was boarded up and unused for decades.  The pictures are shocking, comparing the scene now and then.  In the pictures it looked like nuclear fallout; the area was completely desolate.  Nobody came near.  Having one of their most defining monuments closed up and surrounded by such desolation, it must have broken the hearts of the people.  The wall is so symbolic of absolute repression.  How happy it is to observe it in touristy sections across the city, covered in bright graffiti.

We came across an open-air museum, free to the public.  Old remnants of the wall ran along side it.  It was called the Topography of Terror, and outlined with propaganda posters and historic pictures the rise of Fascism, and then the taking over of Communism.  This was fascinating to me, as I had been trying to get my head around this whole thing.  It's remains too big for me to completely come to grips with.  All I can say when it comes to this level of control over human beings is that people are willing to believe anything when they're desperate.  Germany must have been in an incredibly depraved state in order for Fascism to take root.  It doesn't make it right, but it provides a lesson to be learned.  And hopefully that lesson has been learned.

On a lighter note, we came to Checkpoint Charlie.  We didn't explore the museum (it was late in the day) but we did get to enjoy kebabs outside of it.  We then did another hop on the subway and stopped by the huge television tower (mainly to use the bathroom).  There was a trendy neighborhood nearby where you could see the young of Berlin relaxing.  Mindful of our budget (we were way overbudget for this European stretch) we sighed and headed back to the hostel.  We didn't do justice to Berlin, which only gives me hope that someday we'll be back.

Something really significant did happen in Berlin, and I'm not talking about no wall.  I suggested to Chris that he dump the tent as it didn't look like we'd be camping anymore.  The tent had been weighing him down from Day One and he had been looking to get rid of it.  Well, he left that tent in a wardrobe in the Plus Hostel in Berlin.  Anyone needing a tent can go collect it (though I'm sure someone else has discovered it by now).

Prague-Take 2

Well we were back.  This time the weather was perfect.  We had been looking at weather forecasts for the remainder of our European trip and it was nothing but sunny skies all the way to Istanbul.

We checked into what happened to be a perfectly wonderful hotel.  It's called Mosaic Hotel, and it was about the same price of a hostel.  Chris was responsible for this one.  Well done you, Chris.  It felt like absolute luxury, chocolates on the pillow and everything.

I just asked Chris what we did in Prague this time around.  His answer--we sat on the curb, got pissed and ate sausage.  Oh, and we finally found Charles Bridge.

A Night of Horror in Bratislava

I was actually hoping it would be a bit scarier to tell you the truth.  Back when I first watched the film Hostel, you couldn't have paid me enough money to stay in a hostel in Bratislava.  In fact I don't think I would have gone anywhere near it.  But yeah, over time reason takes over.  Plus Chris told me that the movie was actually filmed in the Czech Republic, which had me disappointed.  The town had looked to medieval and quaint.  I thought there might have even been gangs of wild youths around.  Nope.  Bratislava was modernly touristic and, surprise surprise, expensive.  Part of the Eurozone, prices were greatly higher than the ones we had encountered in the Czech Republic.  This was unfortunate, as we were anxious to try out the local speciality--smoked knees (whose knees, I have wonder).  We ended up grabbing sandwiches from a grocery store and eating them in a square.

We walked the streets, and they were lovely enough.  I couldn't get a sense of the town.  I saw Mozart's name in a few places (we couldn't rid ourselves of the guy) but other than that I don't know what Bratislava stands for.  I guess we could have done one of the guided tours, but the prices turned us off.  We ended up heading to a neighboring hostel to chow on spaghetti bolognese and get a free shot of something that tasted like window cleaner.  That was our Bratislava experience.  That and tetter-tottering in the park the next morning.  We had to find a way to kill time before our train onward to Budapest.  The weather was hot.  We were starting to experience something close to perspiration.  The more east we went-the finer the weather.  The worse the food, but ahh the weather.

So we did survive the night in Bratislava.  We had gotten a private room named Budapest.  It was a cute room with murals on the wall (of Budapest I could only guess).  The lock was flimsy on the door.  I thought maybe I should keep an eye open??  Maybe those window cleaner shots were not alcohol??  Eh, we slept just fine.  We lived to see another day.