Munich to Prague, tail between my legs

Oct. 6, 2008

Two days at Oktoberfest was plenty. I am somewhat ashamed to admit I learned nothing about Munich except how much zee Germans love zere beer.

I left town on Friday by train to Prague. The Czech Republic just seemed like a nice place to see next. It's really in the opposite direction that I need to be heading. I have a Eurail that covers Italy and Greece and eleven days from now, I'm supposed to meet a friend in Istanbul. So what am I doing heading north? I need a geography lesson, or at least a map of Europe.

I wrote off my first evening in Prague to recover from all the steins of beer and the pretzels and the sausage. Ugh. Heartburn. Actually that's been plaguing me since Rome. All the pizza and 3 Euro wine didn't help much in Italy, nor did the 3 Franc wine (that's $3 U.S.!) in Interlaken.

After an early night's sleep, I spent my first morning in search of a laundromat. All my clothes reeked of beer and cigarettes. When entering a new city, the best thing in the world is to feel clean and have a fresh set of clothes.

Whoever was in charge of Prague's city planning must have had an identity crisis or something because all the streets end at odd angles and pick up new names every other block or just end at a giant Gothic tower. Despite directions and a map, much of Saturday morning I spent tromping past the crystal shops over the cobblestones with a bag of my dirty laundry on my back.

The laundromat turned out to be inside a mall. Don't people go to malls to buy new clothes?

So wash done, 1,000 Crown in my pocket (about $55), I set off to explore the city with a French engineering student named Thibaut. We took a free tour of the city which taught me nothing about Prague except that it is famous for its glass and its Pilsner beer, there are giant statues of babies climbing up the giant TV tower at the edge of town, and it's quite cold in October.

I met yet another Australian and two Canucks on the walk. Following the tour, the five of us agreed to really dive into Czech culture and go find a warm bar somewhere. Not to bring up stereotypes or anything, but guess what the Canadians wanted to do. Watch hockey.

The NY Rangers were playing their opening NHL game against Tampa Bay in Prague of all places. So we had to find a local place to watch the local game.

After the Rangers' victory, we tromped along the winding streets to a bar called U Sudu, recommended to me by a friend from home who studied here (Thanks Travis!).

The place was wild. When we walked in, I thought we were in the wrong spot. It looked like a tiny local dive on street level. But in the back of the front room was a set of stairs that led down into a series of caverns, each room with different music and a different atmosphere.

I prodded the others to all order shots of absinthe with me. When our drinks arrived, none of had any idea how to take the shot. We each got a box of matches and a spoon and some sugar.

"You have to light the sugar on fire and drop it into the shot," suggested the Canadian guy. But the sugar wouldn't catch or melt or whatever it was supposed to do. So we all resigned to mixing the sugar in and just knocking back the glass.

Fire water. Whiz bang. That definitely did not help my heartburn.

After the shot, the Canadian girl got the hiccups and pulled the waitress over to ask if there was really wormwood in the drink.

"Are we going to start hallucinating?" she asked, glassy-eyed. The Aussie started play-slapping our faces to see if we had "drunk face." That was enough for me. I just wanted bed.

The next day, I skipped a chance to meet up with the others to check out some museums. Instead I took some time catching up on my blog and figuring out my next steps in the trip. I'm sort of happily lonesome. A break was needed from the intense two day friendships.

After running my own errands, the plan was to walk around much of the old part of the city and maybe check out some museums. Instead I wandered into a mall. The warmth and glow lured me in.

Later I wandered to another warm and glowing place: the Museum of Sex (Thanks to Karen Terry for that suggestion!). The place mostly scared me. There were lots of extremely painful looking devices on display. I admit though that I did enjoy watching a 1920s silent Spanish film that featured fleshy, older prostitutes "mingling" with members of the ruling class to jaunty piano music. The film was shot upon personal order of King Alphons XIII (we should call him King XXX). According to film historians, the king and his subjects indulged in these "pastimes on joyous rainy evenings."

Today I leave Prague. I'm pretty tired and kind of sick and need to head to a warmer climate. Everyone in this country seems to have a runny nose.

Tonight I take a 15 hour train ride south and will wake up in Venice. Then later in the afternoon, I take another train to Florence where I'll meet up with two Australians Natalie and Naomi whom I met in Interlaken.

I have a few hours now to kill in Prague. Perhaps I'll go to a real museum. I like the city more than I did before, knowing that I'll be leaving it behind in a few hours.

See you in Italy.