mymidlifegapyear: Passed by Prague...

Travel tickets and memorabilia

not much I understand

travelling toward Praha (Prague)

Says it all...

Busker in Prague

stepping into a fairy tale

or maybe an old movie

the dancing building (inspired by Fred Astaire)

The train is pulling out of the station. I’ve stayed in Prague less than less than 20 hours and I am so glad I am coming back, because it seems like a magical place.

(From 10^th to 14^th of December I have booked an apartment in Prague near the centre of the old city where the famous Christmas markets will be held. A Czech friend I met in Hong Kong is going to join me for one day and I am looking forward to this “Christmassy experience”. It’s one more thing on my “bucket list” that I will be able to cross off).

At the moment I am heading to a small village called Horni Jeleni about 2 hours away where I will stay overnight with Adam, a friend of an old friend before heading back through Prague, Munich and Salzburg on my way to Venice. (I later find out this is actually NOT the most direct route, with the least train changes that I had requested. I will eventually arrive in Venice after 4 train changes, one at 1.18 am and 19+ hours of travel!)

But it is still a much more comfortable ride than my first long trip when I was 18 from the north to the south of Italy in tourist class, and not quite as traumatic as “that” Indian bus trip, but pretty close!

This trip is part of my “train journey” experience and yesterday I enjoyed the 5 hours travelling alongside a river all the way from Germany to the Czech Republic.

The landscape didn’t change. We passed forests of beech trees and birch in shades of brown, orange, yellow and green, but once when I looked up to see the name of the train station and saw its unfamiliar script I knew I had crossed an invisible border and started to notice the subtle differences, the tell tale signs of an economically poorer place.

George, my taxi driver in Prague was skinny, serious and young and he charged me 200 instead of the 300 Czech Crowns (about 15AUD) that I had been quoted when he took me to my accommodation at The Cloister Inn Hotel and when I walked around the old city later, I felt like I had stepped into a fairytale with castles, ancient clock towers and turrets at every turn.

I caught up with Filippo and Michaela, (the couple I met in Amsterdam) Filippo’s mum and a friend for soup and drinks at Nostress a cosy eatery near the centre. Later Michaela and I walked and talked along the river and when I got back to my hotel at 12.30am I booked a wake up call for 6 as I had to catch an early train.

I reach the platform with a few minutes to spare but there are 2 trains waiting and I am not sure which direction to go. I call out Chocen (pronounced Hotsien) and a lady grabs my bag and motions me to follow her and I drag my heavy suitcase onto the train and get on board just before the train lumbers out of the station.

Chocen is about 15 kms from Horni Jeleni (really!)the small village where Adam lives. His old Skoda hugs the narrow road and we pull up in front of a huge house. It is centrally heated and has all the mod cons and I have my own room and bathroom (later I get a guided tour of the many other guest rooms and living areas). The restoration and modernisation of the 450 year old house full of antique furniture and antique paintings, hunting trophies and latest electronic appliances and gadgets feels oddly uncluttered, perhaps because of the enormous rooms and very high ceilings. Sadly, it was a project that was cut short when Adam’s partner of 20 years passed away unexpectedly. The rooms that were meant to host lots of family and friends are empty and I can see that he has lost enthusiasm for completing the task.

Adam is a gracious host, with a sharp mind, a love of red wine (Thank you for the very good drop of Austrian wine, the velvety smooth 2008 Hahn Cabernet Sauvignon you generously shared with me) and a wicked sense of humour. He looks like an old Uni professor especially as he pores over the Suduko puzzles that he has become addicted to solving. I really enjoy my time with this interesting “nobleman” and storyteller who owns a castle and 1000 hectares of forest! and when he drops me off at the train station the next afternoon I even get a bear hug. (Don’t worry Adam your story about that trip on the Orient Express with a certain “air- hostess” is safe with me!)

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I am having a hot chocolate at Prague train station while I am waiting for my first connection, when a man starts speaking to me in Czech (I think) and I gather he wants to share my table. I smile and nod and motion for him to sit he breaks into a long animated story. I interrupt him and explain that I don’t understand and he nods, but that doesn’t deter him. He continues for the next 10 minutes talking to me, asking questions and telling me something very interesting without me understanding a single word! “Sorry, I don’t understand and I have to go now” I say when I see that my train has finally been assigned a platform number.

“Bye Bye”.

“Bye Bye” He replies, still talking and smiling…

Mmmm He obviously doesn’t know that you need two people to have a conversation. It would have been interesting to know what he was thinking and saying!

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It’s pitch black at 6.15 pm and I can’t see anything out of the train. No one speaks English but I think I’ve worked out that the train I am on, that I thought was going direct to Munich, isn’t and I am going to have to get off in an hour or so and change to another train. A hulk of a man with a few correct words of English hoists my heavy suitcase above his head to the luggage storage rack above, as if it is weightless and asks me to “give me ticket”.

He seems to be barking at me, but is actually very kind. Taking me under his wing and gruffly telling me “I will help”. We sit in silence for the next 2 hours and then he seems to startle.

“Prepare yourself now please” he says parsimoniously, and strides off with my suitcase, going out of his way to ensure I am safely on my connecting train, and with that he grabs my hand in a beefy handshake and strides away, my tentative Dekjeme (Thank you) hardly audible in the loud silence of night.

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My last sector on this trip to Venice, is Salzburg to Venice.

I arrive at Salzburg station with only 10 minutes to catch the next train. The long platform is empty with no signs to indicate where to go. There are no rail personnel around, or locals to ask.

“Venezia”, I call out, as much to reassure myself as to expect a reply.

A couple of young people duck around from a train and repeat Venezia. We race along the platform calling out Venezia as the minutes tick closer to departure time.

Finally a conductor on our previous train who had originally ignored us points lazily across to the furthest platform. My companions dash off and leave me struggling down and up 2 flights of stairs until breathless I manage to climb aboard what I hope is the right train.

It is 1.34 am and the train slides out of the station as I try not to disturb my companion in the lower bunk. I don’t bother to change- there is hardly room to move- I just take off my boots, climb the ladder and slide under the covers in the darkness and listen to the comforting sounds of the train making its way to my next destination.