Prague
Night trains are the way to go. All the stress of having no idea where you are or what to do is softened by the delerium from lack of sleep.
We got off our train at the main station in Prague. It was 7am and we had to wait for an internet point to open so that we could find out how the hell to get to our hostel. While we were looking we bought 2 grams of shoe polish (this time we only lost about 12 euro), and made friends with a drunk metal dude. We asked about the massive scar on his forehead, which had a dark green tint to it. He said he'd been attacked by fascists, and made a stomping action. He was fun.
We finally found out what to do, and made our way to the hostel. It was too early to czech in, so we left our bags in the luggage room and went to the park for a few hours and tried to smoke shoe polish.
That (Saturday) night we went to a couple of places on the outskirts of the city which were supposed to be rockin', but were in fact decidedly unrocking. So we called it a night.
On Sunday we went to the Prague market, but found it closed. So we made our way to Prague castle, which was pretty fucking cool. There's a cathedral in there which has an awesome gothic look, with spikey spires and gargoyles and such forth.
On the way home we spotted an absinthe shop, which was lucky, because when we went looking in our own area there was only wormwood-free absinthe. So we went there and picked up a bottle of the 35mg thujon/kg stuff. We decided we wanted to go to the park to drink it, but we lacked glasses and spoons. We had to go buy sugar from the supermarket, and there we saw the solution to half our problem: mustard jars. We would drink from mustard jars. Yes. We bought detergent as well, cos mustardy absinthe sucks. To our disappointment, we didn't get a very strange look for buying sugar, mustard and detergent.
There was still the problem of the spoons. We thought we might as well at least try to borrow some from the hostel. I asked at the bar, and was told by the bartenders "Sure thing" and "No problem." I guess maybe it's not so unusal a request.
Sweet. We had all the requisite items in out inventory, so off to the park we went. It was great fun, with the burning the sugar and the drinking the absinthe and the being drunk. I don't know about these claims that it's a halucinogen, but it's the best kinda drunk I've ever had. So excited and into everything. We got kicked out of the park at 00:30, though. What kind of park closes?!
The next day was as wasted as us. In the evening I went with a couple of American girls - Zahra and Anne - to a jazz club in the old town. I can't recall the name of the band right now, but they were fucking awesome. Piano, bass and drums. I bought a CD.
On Tuesday Nick and I gave the market another shot. There were about a hundred stalls, but they were all selling the same counterfeit designer shit. We spent a few hours walking around, but it was a waste. I was looking at jumpers, but none of them were my blue jumper. That thing is irreplacable.
Anne and Zahra were going to the jazz club again to see another pbd trio. This time Nick came along. I had a few shots of absinthe at the bar. Absinthe goes REALLY well with jazz.
We finally made time to look around the old town on Wednesday. We took a train to the middle of it and just wandered around, and ended up in the tourist shopping district, which was almost as bad as the market in terms of every shop selling the same shit. We did find a cool streetwear shop, though, and I picked up a hoodie to replace my lost jumper (waaah! :ยด( ) I also got a bottle of absinthe. More walking, looking at buildings, turning down offers of shoepolish, taking photos. You know. We crossed the Charles Bridge, which had a few buskers along the way, including a girl playing spanish guitar absolutely beautifully. At the end of the bridge, I found bigger bottles of absinthe for less than the smaller ones, so I bought two.
I mailed them home the next day (which was pretty complicated, but I managed it in the end). So, mum and dad, when a box rocks up on your doorstep from Czech Republic, put it away for me. No drinking it, or you'll get in trouble.
Prague has kinda a sour end. When Nick saw my last blog and saw that I'd taken his title he got really angry about it. I DID credit him with it. But he was being such a baby about it, and what do you do to babies? That's right, you steal their candy. Just as I was about to eat it he punched me in the face, so I hit him back. Basically, I left him in a bloody pulp on the ground got on a train to Vienna. I hope he died there. What a dick.
We got off our train at the main station in Prague. It was 7am and we had to wait for an internet point to open so that we could find out how the hell to get to our hostel. While we were looking we bought 2 grams of shoe polish (this time we only lost about 12 euro), and made friends with a drunk metal dude. We asked about the massive scar on his forehead, which had a dark green tint to it. He said he'd been attacked by fascists, and made a stomping action. He was fun.
We finally found out what to do, and made our way to the hostel. It was too early to czech in, so we left our bags in the luggage room and went to the park for a few hours and tried to smoke shoe polish.
That (Saturday) night we went to a couple of places on the outskirts of the city which were supposed to be rockin', but were in fact decidedly unrocking. So we called it a night.
On Sunday we went to the Prague market, but found it closed. So we made our way to Prague castle, which was pretty fucking cool. There's a cathedral in there which has an awesome gothic look, with spikey spires and gargoyles and such forth.
On the way home we spotted an absinthe shop, which was lucky, because when we went looking in our own area there was only wormwood-free absinthe. So we went there and picked up a bottle of the 35mg thujon/kg stuff. We decided we wanted to go to the park to drink it, but we lacked glasses and spoons. We had to go buy sugar from the supermarket, and there we saw the solution to half our problem: mustard jars. We would drink from mustard jars. Yes. We bought detergent as well, cos mustardy absinthe sucks. To our disappointment, we didn't get a very strange look for buying sugar, mustard and detergent.
There was still the problem of the spoons. We thought we might as well at least try to borrow some from the hostel. I asked at the bar, and was told by the bartenders "Sure thing" and "No problem." I guess maybe it's not so unusal a request.
Sweet. We had all the requisite items in out inventory, so off to the park we went. It was great fun, with the burning the sugar and the drinking the absinthe and the being drunk. I don't know about these claims that it's a halucinogen, but it's the best kinda drunk I've ever had. So excited and into everything. We got kicked out of the park at 00:30, though. What kind of park closes?!
The next day was as wasted as us. In the evening I went with a couple of American girls - Zahra and Anne - to a jazz club in the old town. I can't recall the name of the band right now, but they were fucking awesome. Piano, bass and drums. I bought a CD.
On Tuesday Nick and I gave the market another shot. There were about a hundred stalls, but they were all selling the same counterfeit designer shit. We spent a few hours walking around, but it was a waste. I was looking at jumpers, but none of them were my blue jumper. That thing is irreplacable.
Anne and Zahra were going to the jazz club again to see another pbd trio. This time Nick came along. I had a few shots of absinthe at the bar. Absinthe goes REALLY well with jazz.
We finally made time to look around the old town on Wednesday. We took a train to the middle of it and just wandered around, and ended up in the tourist shopping district, which was almost as bad as the market in terms of every shop selling the same shit. We did find a cool streetwear shop, though, and I picked up a hoodie to replace my lost jumper (waaah! :ยด( ) I also got a bottle of absinthe. More walking, looking at buildings, turning down offers of shoepolish, taking photos. You know. We crossed the Charles Bridge, which had a few buskers along the way, including a girl playing spanish guitar absolutely beautifully. At the end of the bridge, I found bigger bottles of absinthe for less than the smaller ones, so I bought two.
I mailed them home the next day (which was pretty complicated, but I managed it in the end). So, mum and dad, when a box rocks up on your doorstep from Czech Republic, put it away for me. No drinking it, or you'll get in trouble.
Prague has kinda a sour end. When Nick saw my last blog and saw that I'd taken his title he got really angry about it. I DID credit him with it. But he was being such a baby about it, and what do you do to babies? That's right, you steal their candy. Just as I was about to eat it he punched me in the face, so I hit him back. Basically, I left him in a bloody pulp on the ground got on a train to Vienna. I hope he died there. What a dick.
posted by Nick Tresco at 2:17 AM
1 Comments:
Ehehehe "czech in"...youre so funny
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