In the Czech Republic, customer service holds a very unique place. In fact it is so unique you may never actually find it.
A deliriously wonderful person, Melinda, once warned me about this. Menus may or may not come. You may have ordered, but that doesn’t mean the food is coming. The check will never arrive unless you ask for it, if even then. Salads are just bowls full of vegetables. Drinks will not be refilled or replaced. Whatever the server brings you must be what you ordered, even if it’s not. I was ready for all this. My friends were not.
Czech food is worth the wait. I had the unique and wonderful experience of befriending a girl named Klara in the USA who ran a Czech restaurant and had ample samples of Czech fare. The goulash is pretty standard Czech food and is well worth experiencing. They have a type of spongy bread called ‘dumplings’ that is served with almost everything, and my favorite dishes have to be the tomato salad and the beef goulash with cranberries!
Our first morning in town, Justin met his roommate… and the random girl who was sharing the bed with him. We just called him Romeo.
Our first night in town was a Saturday and Justin and I were not about to let it go to waste. We set out with a map and barely a clue on how to get around. We made it to a tram stop somewhat near the old part of the city and saw the 4 Seasons hotel. It’s a tactic of mine to use fancy hotels concierge desks when I am in need so we strolled on in to get some directions.
As we entered a spotlessly well dressed man walked up to us and asked in a flawless North American English if he could help us. When we requested a map, he directed us to one of his coworkers and once we were situated he sauntered off to attend to some official business. We are sure he was the King of the 4 Seasons, and we immediately named him Chocolate Jackson.
We walked all around the truly charming and somewhat serpentine old town streets until we found the main square with what is still one of my favorite landmarks in Europe, the fantastic Chapel of someone or other.
Immediately upon entering the main square, disreputable, pushy hawkers began walking up to Justin, sompletely ingoring me, and trying to entice him to come and see the particular female delights at their clubs; each one of them claiming it was the best in Prague. The shortest of the bunch soon became irate when we kept asking him for a place to eat instead of the quickest route to his women.
We did manage to get directions, from a girl offering similar distractions, to a gyro/pizza place that was still open at midnight. The food was terrible, and certainly wasn’t improved by a girl with blonde dreadlocks rooting through the trash can next to us, pulling out a half eaten gyro and chewing it down hungrily. Walking back to the tram stop, Justin and I passed several other shops a couple streets over with much more appetizing fare. Lucky us, neither of us had any appetite left.
The following day, after Justin had seen a little toooo much of Romeo’s next girl, we made a glorious discovery: The Bohemian Bagel. This place was exemplary in many ways. It was the worst customer service we have ever seen; our waitress was constantly angry and annoyed. They had great bagels, bottomless, American-style coffee, and actual pancakes! The Bohemian Bagel is definitely the way to start every day in Prague! If you fancy gaining about 10 pounds a day, eat the “Charles the IVth” breakfast.
After shaking off the maple syrup sugar rush, we managed to make it out of bed and down to what we learned was called the “Old Town Square” and found the Starbucks that serves as a rally point for the Praha branch of New Europe: NewPrague! Our tour guide was a tiny Welsh girl who simply could not tell a joke to save her life and had a smile that would part the clouds.
We had a blast cheering her on and learned a good deal about Prague and Czech as well.
For starters, despite seeming angry and disenfranchised, the Czech people have an excellent sense of humor. When being invaded, they took down every street sign across the country and changed the names of every town to the same name, so the invading armies couldn’t actually find where they were trying to get to. Also, whenever the people disagree wth someone, they throw the offending person out of a window or from a castle wall; an action called “defenestration.” Classic fun. This particular form of demise, according to legend, placed 5 stars in the sky over where a particular priest was killed, making him an instant, though dead, celebrity.
The much famed Astronomical Clock is really something of a underwhelming accomplishment. Though it may have been a hit about 500 years ago, in a post-Matrix world, it is really just a place for pickpockets to take advantage of distracted tourists. Take a gander, but keep your hands in your pockets.
While Prague is a magnificent place to wander, chat, and eat, there are certain attractions outside the city that should not be missed. The town of Kutna Hora holds some of these a mere hours train ride to the west. Behold, the Ossuary; the Bone Church.
As the story goes, some dirt was brought here from Jerusalem and so many people wanted to be buried here, that the bodies were simply piling up. Finally, in the last century, some interior decorator decided to put them to use, building ceiling fixtures, pyramids, wall hangings, and other decorations.
Also in the same town is the Basilica of someone or other. This is one of the most visually stunning building exteriors I have seen since the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.
The interior was a bit lacking.
Eventually, everyone must move on, and I was left with a couple days till I was on my own and a chance to meet up with a friend of a friend, Zenon.
Not only is the guys name absolutely fantastic, the man himself is a truly exemplary and friendly person. The time I spent at Zenon’s place was absolutely invaluable. A clean, well lighted place; quiet, and with my own desk. I was tempted to never leave.
Justin and I spent a quiet night strolling around the park near the TV tower and met some of the locals, had a chat with the police, and basically discussed the meaning of life. It was an important night for decompression; it was filled with signs.
On Justin’s last night, we were walking around the Old Town Square when we ran into c pair of girls running around with umbrellas organizing a large batch of tourists to go tour several of the pubs and clubs in the area so we joined in. It was a blast, though I will caution you again, dear reader, that all-you-can-drink is generally a bad idea. Actually, it is always a bad idea. Just trust me.
While dancing the night away, Justin and I met tons of people from all over the world. One of the important ones being another friend of a friend, Sanju. This Malaysian girl kept me company through the whole wild evening out, quietly admiring Justin from across the room, and at one poine told me, while she was staring at Justin dancing, “He is a superstar!” And he was. This man has fun everywhere, no matter what. Justin truly knows how to seize the day.
The following day, after saying goodbye to Romeo’s new friend, Justin rolled off to a meeting in Germany and I enjoyed a little more peace and quiet before making tracks for Brno and the MotoGP!
