“Like the waters of the river, like the motorists on the highway, and like the yellow trains streaking down the Santa Fe tracks, drama, in the shape of exceptional happenings, had never stopped there.” – Truman Capote in ‘In Cold Blood’

So throughout my travels, people were constantly telling me not to spend too much time in Prague; that there wasn’t a lot to do there. I sort of took this on board. I had been looking forward to Prague, but I had loved Vienna so much that I didn’t mind cutting out some Prague time for the chance to stay there longer. As it turned out one day was enough in Prague, but in that one day I managed to fit in a hell of a lot, including a rather ill-favoured incident that I still can’t quite wrap my head around.

 
See one of the weird things about the Czech Republic is that all the signs are in Czech. Outrageous, I know. Before departing for my trip, being the responsible and well- organised person that I obviously am, I printed out pages with all my train times, train change-over’s and all that jazz. It would have been an easy endeavour except the journey between Vienna and Prague ended up having, and I’m not one for hyperbole, roughly around 50 Billion change-over’s. So here I am, boarding a train on my way to visit the Artist Formerly Known as Czechoslovakia, with what was essentially a medium sized novel filled with a load of Czech place names that I couldn’t say.

 
Okay, I think it’s time to come clean. Earlier I lied about being responsible and well-organised, so naturally I ended up boarding the wrong train. The problem was that I didn’t realise this until after I had already gone four hours in the wrong direction. There ended up being this whole rigmarole around the inspector trying to tell me that I was on the wrong train, without the use of English, and me trying to tell him that I didn’t understand, without the use of Czech. Well I think that’s what he was saying. He could have just as easily been trying to engage me in some weird Strangers on a Train scheme. Eventually, with the help of a very kind translator, I was forced to disembark the train in the middle the Czech boondocks. I am serious. I was in essence stranded beside what I’m pretty sure was the garage that they always stop off at, at the beginning of horror movies. I looked around at the toothless, indigenous people, half expecting them to spit out tobacco and tell me I have a purdy mouth. Obviously they wouldn’t say that because they spoke Czech, but whatever. At this point I was sitting on dirt road thinking about whether it was better to wander off into the extensive coniferous forest that surrounded the road to die, or to create a new life as a Slavic garage attendant/ The Hills Have Eyes extra. I had no Wi-Fi and, having just been at only Euro-using countries, no Koruna. I was up hovno creek without a paddle until eventually a kindly stranger (who had nearly all of her teeth) asked me if I needed help and set me back on course. Before I knew it (nine hours later) I was in the cobbled city of Prague. By this time it was night and it became perfectly apparent that some of Prague was actually kind of dodgy and a bit Skid Row-esque. I figured that, like a midget at a urinal, I better keep on my toes.

 
I checked into the first hostel I found, which ended up being an awesome haunted mansion, and left immediately to do some late-night sightseeing in the less dodgy side of town. Within a couple of hours I had already crossed everything off of my list and went on a Ghost Tour. It was obviously very touristic but I had a lot of fun. The tour guide was dressed up in an executioners costume and told us the gory history of the city. My favourite story was that of the man who built the Astronomical clock. Legend has it that the town elders blinded the clockmaker so that he could never reproduce the clock for another city, and as revenge he hurled himself into the clock’s mechanism, killing him and ensuring that the clock was broken for over fifty years. I’m pretty sure the clockmaker was still about causing mischief when I visited the clock because when it struck midnight, the apostle figurines that were supposed to come out of it had gone mysteriously AWOL. At the end of the tour we were taken underground to a dungeon where we were asked to choose our method of execution. I chose being eaten to death by rats because I was kind of hoping that they would bring out a nice rat for me to pet, but no dice.

The next morning I wandered around the old town and saw all the churches and the Vltava River. It was a nice walk but I was pretty indifferent about leaving Prague. It’s definitely a cool city, especially if you’re into all things spooky. However, like a stick of Juicy Fruit chewing gum; it didn’t leave a lasting impression.

 

Things I Learned in the Czech Republic

1) You can get ridiculously good beer in Prague. A lot of it is similar to Guinness.

2) Czech people in the middle-ages had deep, deep anger issues. They just really enjoyed going about flaying and stabbing people. I suppose they didn’t have the behaviour meds that we have today, but still…chill the bap guys.

3) We are not alone. My hostel was in an old, converted gothic mansion, and I definitely heard some weird sounds coming from the hallways. Moaning and chain rattling sort of sounds. The hostel manager probably just thought it would be hilarious to pop a few speakers about the place, making ghost noises and scaring tourists…

4) Not all buskers are there to annoy you. The buskers in Prague all seem to be accomplished classical musicians who busk because – I don’t know – everyone in Prague is a musician and it’s a competitive career choice?

5) There is such a thing as absinthe ice-cream. Decided to give that one a miss…