Living History and Fictional Cities

This is a rather important week for Virginia Tech, as one might imagine. I get to spend the anniversary of April 16 very far away from home, and most of those that I really want to be with at this time. We’ll be marking the anniversary in our own way over here; I’m not sure how just yet, but we’ll be remembering and thinking it over.

That said, I had a moment today where I recalled something I wanted to discuss.

The great difficulty with Europe is that absolutely everything was important at one time or another. You can’t go very far before tripping over a UNESCO World Heritage Site, or some local icon, or anything. When we took our Italy trip some months ago, this was obvious; Rome is littered with all the “Roman” stuff, which basically amounts to what Eddie Izzard refers to as “a series of small walls.” Of course, these small walls are the remnant of one of the greatest civilizations, but that’s all there is. At the time, we marveled at the realization that we were standing in the Roman Forum, where all sorts of marvelous figures had walked, lived, bartered, and set off to conquer lesser civilizations. I couldn’t quite feel the same sense of wonder at the time. A few too many tourists were in my way to feel the wonders of walking with Augustus….some 2000 years late.

Germany was different; it’s harder to find areas left as they were centuries ago, or the streets that you’re fairly certain some emperor or other was one.

And then we got to Nuremberg. On our way out of the city the group paused at the old Nazi Parade grounds. It’s not half so impressive today as it looks on the History Channel, filled with crowds and troops. Now it’s empty, and overlooks a high school soccer field, with a more impressive professional soccer league stadium just beyond. All around the stands there are fences and warning signs, with crews attempting to bolster the structure. There’s nothing to prevent the casual visitor from climbing all over the stands, and eventually you find yourself standing just where Hitler did as he inspected the troops and made his speeches.

This was the time I got chills; there’s nothing I found creepier than standing in the exact spot, on a virtually unchanged structure, and knowing exactly what happened on that spot. In Rome everything is a bit broken down, so seeing the grand glories are more easily achieved for me through film. Nothing looks like it does in the movies. Nuremberg has been left unchanged, except for emptying out.

I’m planning on spending the weekend in Venice, and as I plan for that trip, I have a newspaper clipping of author Geraldine Brooks explaining which fictional character she would spend a week as. I’m not too interested in Ms. Brooks, but she matches my answer perfectly. She describes the week Charles Ryder spent in Venice with Sebastian in “Brideshead Revisited”. I reread this passage just before leaving for Riva, and was surprised when I realized that the story of the fortnight in Venice is barely more than 3 pages in a 300 page book. And yet, it’s one of the most beautiful scenes of the book, and the BBC adaptation.

I, however, will not be 19, in love, and working towards my destiny as an artist on this trip. I’ll be 21, and trying to forget just how much work I have to do in order to enjoy a city I’ve seen and heard about in so many books and movies. This is the other side of travel; finding the places I’ve read about in fiction, trying to find out if those marvelous cities that inspired so many writers could have a similar effect on me.

Country Hopping Should be a Sport

Some six years ago I spent four days in Germany, basing my travels out of the city of Pforzheim. I remember being slightly giddy at the novelty of being able to cross the border into France and thus spend an afternoon in a different country. I did that again for this trip.

On our way from Freiberg to Heidelberg, Fabio drove us into Strasbourg, the very same city I visited six years ago, and luckily there have been no new conflicts about Alsace-Lorraine, so it’s still France. Everything was just as I remembered it, but now I had educated guides to tell me about the historical significance of the area. And this time I was more able to appreciate the wonders of European borders.

On our way home at the end of the Germany excursion we ended up passing through Austria, then driving along the Liechtenstein border. The novelty of that experience was lessened by the pause at the world’s most terrifying rest stop. It was simply called “Heidiland”, and resulted in absolute terror for the group. Austria did look rather lovely for the five minutes I was there.

Now, some context for these musings: when I returned from Dublin, I called home from the Milan airport. I was asked “What country are you in?” My response was a bit more elaborate, explaining that I had woken up in the Republic of Ireland, passed through Italy, and finally ended the day in Switzerland. Border crossings are terrifically easy, so country-hopping has become so normal to me. I don’t get to do this at home. At the same time, I never encounter the same language difficulties so prevalent with country hopping in Europe. It’s remarkable to travel around with polyglots; the ability to switch between languages so quickly is so amazing to witness, especially on the scale required here. I mentioned to a friend on the bus that it was impossible to do this sort of country-hopping in North America. I don’t think I could manage to drive from Canada to Mexico in just one day. And unless I began in Montreal, I wouldn’t have to know a language other than English for the entire trip, until I reached Mexico.

The United States is a remarkable place, in its sheer size and minimal language requirements. I appreciate the ease of this, but I do love the variety of culture available in a day trip through Europe.

Uber Alles?

I may never get a chance to say this again without certain friends of mine claiming a moral victory: I really like Germany. Germany is a really cool country; and it’s pretty impressive that it can do so much and be so prosperous in such a comparatively short time. It’s been just over sixty years since most cities in Germany were obliterated by Allied bombings, and now it’s beautiful.

I think part of my affection for Germany stems from the simple fact that I feel comfortable here. I mentioned once that I loved Prague because I felt at home in the city, and Dublin was even better, if only because of the prevalence of the English language. I really am a Northern girl at heart I think, even if I grew up in the South under the most technical of terms. This seems to be a worldwide impression, as I am never happier than in a cold, damp city that feeds me sausage.

I understand the appeal of stretching out on a beach sipping sangria, and can’t deny the allure of absorbing UV rays, but I really am happier in my coat and scarf, braving the downpour for a coffee run. That’s not to say that I don’t like beaches, I just happen to like the northern ones, like Scotland or Canada. There’s something very appealing about Viking country, as well as the landlocked areas of mountain and river.

Simply put, Germany is a fabulous place. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed from this trip. We began in Riva, drove to Freiberg, then a day in Strasbourg (France), on to Heidelberg, day trip to Rothenberg, on to Bamberg, day trip to Nuremberg, then finally Munich; all of this over nine days. It’s a punishing schedule, and prohibitive to really getting a feel for a city or seeing many sights. I had lots of fun, and more than a few cultural experiences, and I can safely say that I’ll need another jaunt into Germany sometime in my future.

This trip belonged to the Political Science aspect of the semester, so I spent most days in meetings and watching power points about environmental policy and sustainability. Germany is all sorts of wonderful compared to many other countries with regards to sustainable development, and yet we’re still in trouble. As if that wasn’t enough fun, part of the trip including a visit to the BMW factory and seeing some of the research laboratories. I don’t really understand cars, but I do so love the nice machines that go fast.

Outside of the educational program, I had a full range of cultural experiences, mostly culinary: pastries everywhere and sausage. I have never eaten so well than those street vendors with delicious sausage. I must make a passing reference to the beer: it exists in Germany. As for the history; there’s lots. We saw quite a few rebuilt cities as a result of World War Two, and it’s amazing to consider the state the country was in only sixty years ago. And now it’s prosperous and pretty, as well as a world leader in environmental policies.

I Went Down to Dublin Town, to See What I Could See

I think some of my earliest memories involve books; specifically very detailed children’s books like Jan Brett’s, and in particular one about the production of the Book of Kells. I remember from those bygone days a certain fascination with the intricacy of the Celtic knot work. I got older, and my interest grew. My favorite history comes from the British Isles and Ireland, and when I finally realized jewelry could be more than plastic, I always drifted towards the Highland Games and Irish festivals to find the local jewelers who always had the best options for cheap, pretty knot work. Even now I have a ring of a dog in the Irish style. It never fails to attract interest.

And then there was the music. I like pretty much everything under the sun, but I never had much interest in going to concerts because I never liked any band enough to want to spend the money. That changed freshman year of college when I discovered Great Big Sea, a Newfie band that plays a mix of original works and traditional songs, often of Irish descent. With them came Gaelic Storm, again a mix of original works and tradition.

Suffice to say, there’s a personal interest in Ireland: the people, the culture, the history. Add to that the family background. The Irish side of the family is the only one I can actually claim to know much about. So, a weekend trip to Dublin should have been a good time.

Dublin is pretty much the best thing ever. I’ve had lots of great experiences; Prague was wonderful, I loved Nice, but Dublin is great.

First off: English is everywhere! I don’t speak Gaelic, and it’d be nice to learn the language, but that’s not happening anytime soon. Better than that- oodles of history and literature! Do you know how many Nobel Prize winners hail from Dublin town? There’s Yeats, Beckett, Heaney, Shaw…everyone except James Joyce is on the list. It’s rather impressive to look at the notable graduates from Trinity. Oh, and Trinity. I thought I liked Oxford, but Trinity is just too beautiful, and they have the Book of Kells! My favorite medieval manuscript is right there!

Um, Second- Guinness and Jameson’s. Both of the original distilleries of the city have shut down, but the shells and tour remain. I love visiting distilleries; they’re such fun, and every employee is happy to see you. I like seeing people content with their careers. Then you get out to the pubs, and there’s always music, frequently live, and lots of friendly people and the locals all get confused when the poor little American girls ask for Guinness. It would appear that girls do not drink beer in Europe; far more appropriate for women to take wine or something else. No one mentioned this. I’ve never had such good fun.

Our first night out my party met a number of wonderful people, including one gent who offered us the use of his Masters in Irish history to give us a tour of Dublin. Very nice to be taken around and have 1916 and the process of Home Rule explained.

This is a bit muddled, so let me clarify the past weekend:

Wednesday: Fly out of Milan, and get to the hostel. Kinley house is very nice, and has a bed for tired little students.

Thursday: Up and out. Discover the hostel is next door to Christ Church. We find our way to the Kilmainham Gaol, which dates form the mid eighteenth century; notable for holding many a political prisoner, especially the leaders of the Easter Rebellion of 1916. Out and around to visit the Guinness storehouse; the top level provides a 360-view of Dublin, well-labeled with Joyce quotes. After that it was Grafton Street, and the great quest for fish and chips. Remarkably, it’s far easier to get a kebab than fish, but fish we found! I also discovered that half the convenience stores sold Tim Horton’s doughnuts, further confirming my conviction that Dublin is the greatest city in the world. After food back to the hostel for naps before trying out Temple Bar.

Friday: I did some private exploring in the morning, discovering the Oscar Wilde statue, several parks, and finally Trinity and Kells. No end of wonders, and then across the Liffy. I met the group and our Irish guide at two for touring, and some museums before hunger sent us into Hard Rock. Do not doubt the wonders of a Hard Rock Café; it’s far classier than succumbing to the lure of McDonalds. Again, another evening discovering the local flavor.

Saturday: Rain. Oh, it had rained before, but this was annoying. As was the discovery that on the weekend Dublin Castle is only open 2-4:45. So much for that. We ended up at the Library to see the W.B. Yeats exhibit; pretty good, and lots to be known about Yeats’ mysticism tendencies. Ahhh….the origins of celebrity interest in mysticism religions better left to people who actually understand what’s going on. Well, maybe not. Yeats seemed to know what was going on. Out from there to attempt some shopping and other wondrous activities before Jameson’s. Not my favorite distillery, mainly because it wasn’t active. I like being able to smell the process, and see the whiskey being made, rather than just finding the end product in the gift shop. Still, learned a lot about whiskey I hadn’t known. Irish whiskey is always distilled three times, providing a smoother flavor, and the peat taste of Scottish whisky comes from the roasting process of the malts. Final night of exploring local culture, but not before meeting a boy from New Zealand and a girl from Australia; both were very nice, and I learned quite a lot about higher education. Amazing the power of the hostel.

Sunday was home again, leaving the Emerald Isle. As beautiful as it is in the mountains, I miss Dublin. I’d like to go back and get out into the countryside, maybe the Ring of Kerry and Galway, but that will have to wait for another day. My list of cities still to see or return to continues to grow longer. I may need to get a job with Frommer’s or Lonely Planet to achieve this. Or just find a nice pile of money to support my increasingly expensive needs. Did I mention the Republic of Ireland has one of the highest costs of living in the EU? Might need a work visa, and be prepared to settle for a time.

Resurrection, Birthdays and Tunnels

It’s been a very full week up Riva way. I should have updated sooner, but there’s been so much going on!

I begin with last Tuesday: I took a class field trip to see the construction of the new St. Gottard Tunnel. This is the most ambitious and potentially important tunnel project in the world. You think the Chunnel from England to France and under the water was impressive, well you just wait ten years for the Swiss to finish this! The St. Gottard will be 57 kilometers (roughly 35 miles for us non-metric types), and through the Alps. One mountain in particular that I can’t recall the name off is being burrowed through as we speak. There are actually two lines running though the mountains, one North-bound and one South-bound, and this is designed to allow more freight trains to pass through Switzerland, thus reducing the need for heavy freight trucks on the highways. They’ll tell you all the statistics about saving fuel and road repair costs, and how this train line is so much better than the old overland one which is to be used for tourists if you visit. And what a visit it is.

We began with the informational power point, and then it was down to the Center of the Earth; the nice Swiss miners (who aren’t actually Swiss because as our guide said, the Swiss all work in banks. Mostly Germans down there. ) kitted us out in bright orange jumpsuits, heavy boots, hard hats (mine was blue for “Mechanical Engineer”), and an oxygen tank. I find it’s best to judge the quality of a learning experience by the number of safety precautions in place. Although, it should be mentioned that the mortality rate of this project is fantastically lower than all other projects.

We went down into the tunnel, looked around, saw some people working, and I kept looking for goblins. Surely in the bowels of the earth it would have been good to see some goblins. But they weren’t about, so lots of geologists and engineers. Roughly the same, right?

After the tunnel went out to see the town of Giornico, which was very cute, had seven churches, and a very odd museum. Basically a big block of concrete; I’ll have a photo album up soon to better explain.

On to Wednesday! Which was pretty average…So Thursday! Ah, yes, Thursday; that fateful day that I turned 21. For you see, I finally reached my birthday; as my mother’s e-mail said, the most exciting birthday venue I’ve had, although the funeral runs a close second. The day began with classes, not the finest of hours, but I took the opportunity afterwards to spoil myself with a bit of shopping at the outlet mall in the next town. For my evening entertainment, I went back to that town of Mendrisio to see the Maundy Thursday parade. Basically a procession highlighting Christ’s journey up the hill to Calvary.

We students were informed this even would be quite violent, and not the sort of thing one would take a small child to see. As Americans, this put us in mind of gratuitous and gory violence, blood filling the streets. Something from a Tarantino film, or maybe “300” seemed appropriate for that level of warning.

Culture shock sets in somewhere along the line. I expected blood, I got some pretty nifty costumes and 40 mounted figures. It would appear that Europe, the land of the Hundred Years War, the Thirty Years War, both World Wars, and the plague, can’t be bothered with a bit of fake blood. Alas and alack, I still had fun seeing the parade. It occurred to me later, actually during Easter Mass this morning, that that sort of display would almost never be seen in the States without hue and cry raised throughout the land about “Separation of Church and State” and “political correctness.” I love Europe.

After the parade I got out to the bar for my little celebration. The novelty of going out to the bar is somewhat lessened by being overseas, but it was still great good fun. The company was perfect, and it capped off a fairly decent birthday.

Friday I stopped off at the Lugano Easter Market, which I’m sorry to say was not half as cute as Prague’s, and went to Milan Saturday. Oh, dear, Milan was trouble. Beautiful day, wonderful people, but I couldn’t go into the Duomo. I had decided that morning to wear a little black jumper of mine. Admittedly it’s a bit sort, but I was wearing some thick black tights. Unfortunately the gentleman at the door after the security guard was nonplussed by my decency. The skirt was above the knee, so no observing God’s glory for me. My nylon-covered knees were just too much temptation. So, at the risk of being labeled the new Whore of Babylon, I retreated to some of the local shops. It seemed safer for all concerned, and I’ve already seen the Duomo.

That’s all the news from this week, other than mentioning that classes are kicking into high gear, so I have a busy week ahead. And I made it to Easter Mass this morning, so points for me. However, I’m flying out to Dublin Wednesday night, so that industriousness will have to be better than usual.

Happy Easter Everyone!

Flying Rats

It’s never mentioned in any of the guidebooks, but I’ve come to consider pigeons when I travel. This may seem an odd selection, compared to entertainment, gastronomical, financial, and safety considerations, but I think the pigeon populations are pretty critical. It’s pretty awful to be trying to enjoy the Duomo in Milan, and then have to duck to avoid the dive-bombing pigeon population.

The other main risk when visiting the Duomo is getting scammed by one of the many gentlemen trying to get you to feed the pigeons or to take a bracelet, but there are enough warning about that I should think. No one ever told me that I’d be dodging pigeons throughout Rome.

This came up as a discussion topic while in Prague, observing some remarkably well-behaved pigeons in Old Town Square. Every so often in the news back home in Northern Virginia there’s something about the deer or foxes or other wildlife becoming accustomed to humans, and so they wander closer and closer to human habitation and into roads, and are promptly and horribly killed. In the cities most wildlife is hard to find, but not the noble, filthy, disease-carrying flying rat. I’m not overly fond of pigeons. I’m especially not fond of pigeons that have no fear and have no problem with summoning all their friends and flying over a group of tourists, at an altitude of roughly seven feet, give or take, so everyone has to duck to avoid plague. And feathers.

In Prague, however, the pigeon population was a fraction of what I find in the more southern cities. Even better, they were polite; as polite as pigeons can be which means they kept their distance from me as I sat, quietly hoping I would drop a loaf of bread or other treat, and scurrying off when some other tourist fulfilled their needs. There were still moments of mass flight that would have made me nervous, if they hadn’t been so unobtrusive. Really, there’s nothing quite like it. I think I liked Prague all the more for its pigeons. It reflected the feeling of the city; politely waiting for the tourist to drop some cash, but not pushy about it. In Rome, everything gets shoved in your face, which is partly because of the layout of the city and its many, many sites, and the pigeons have no fear.

I go to London in a few months, remarkably enough in the spring. I recall the pigeons being pretty bad in the winter from previous visits, so I’m interested in what I’ll find this time, when I’m more aware. I imagine charmingly polite, and then shove me out of the way when I fail to do something correctly, like spell words with an excessive “u”.

Czech Mate

The first thing to mention is that I finally have internet access on my laptop. I have since learned how dangerous this is. I have spent two days enjoying all the pleasures of easy access internet; which means having Top Gear-fests with my fellow fans. And of course, paying attention to my schoolwork. Or at least I will when this episode ends.

Other than that, I’ve done it. I mentioned before that I was going off for Spring Break some time ago, and I did. I got all the way to Prague and back to the Villa in one piece. And all by myself no less. That means: I got to an unfamiliar airport (Lugano, with two terminals), onto an unfamiliar airline (SwissAir), made a connection at another unfamiliar airport (Zurich, and they speak German!), and off a plane and through customs in the Czech Republic. And then, I got onto a bus (with a lovely bruise to show off), onto the metro, and to the hostel without incident. And after a week, I did it all in reverse.

This means that I can now mark down March 1, 2008 as one of my personal milestones. I flew alone for the first time in my life. I always assumed my first solo flight would be something domestic, perhaps from DC to Chicago, or other appropriately familiar flight. Instead, I went across country lines, three unfamiliar languages, and managed it all by my lonesome. Quite an achievement, if I do say so myself.

And so, I got to Prague. I met up, somehow, with a friend from high school, and another from that awful camp from last summer. That was wonderful; to get away from all the people I see everyday. I have no problems with the group I’m studying with, but there’s something so lovely in getting away from everything, and seeing people I haven’t seen in ages.

Then, a week in Prague; let’s get on with the list:

March 1: Got to the airport in Lugano some several hours early. So I walked around for ages, then finally the stepstool was brought around for us to board the plane. Had two flights that bounced around horribly, so I landed in Prague feeling rather ill. Got to the hostel, checked in, and then I walked around town, attempting to orient myself with the city.

March 2: Met up with friend, and promptly went out for walking tours. Watched the Astronomical Clock with its spinning apostles, and then got tour of Josefov, the old Jewish Ghetto. It turns out Prague had one of the biggest and most significant Jewish populations in Europe…up until World War Two. Bit of rain, so a lovely lunch of goulash to warm up. Wandered about a bit more, poking heads into museums, and reeling from the cost. I should take a moment to mention that the exchange rate during my visit was 1USD to 16KZ (Czech krona); and nothing was available for 16kz. I tried to keep my purchases under the 100kz mark as much as possible, unless absolutely necessary. Ah, the life of a student. In the evening, went on a ghost tour. Friend and I had some New Yorker tourists join us for that, which was no end of fun.

Aside: The guillotine was actually invented by the Scottish. I believe it was called “The Maiden”, but the concept of getting your head sliced off by a large blade powered by gravity originated with the Scots. The main feature of the guillotine was that it allowed the victim to lie down “comfortably”, while the Scottish version required that person to kneel. This became a topic of discussion with the New Yorker history teacher who seemed to know everything. I, however, have an interest in history, and especially the history of the British Isles. And I sometimes watch the History Channel.

After the Ghost Tour, which was far from terrifying, friend and I got appetizers at a TGIFridays. Now, before I am mocked for going to Central Europe and seeking the most American cuisine possible, understand that I have spent two months in Europe, and all I want is a cheeseburger, buffalo wings, and most of all, Chipotle. Those people responsible for fetching me from Dulles in May take note. Chipotle.

March 3: Out in the morning to do a tour of the synagogues we had glanced at the day before. This meant a full three hours plus of the synagogues, and the Ceremony Hall, and the Old Jewish Cemetery. At the cemetery friend and I were wandering behind a group of elderly French tourists, and followed by some student Italian tourists, both Jewish. Understandable, but then we got to the Rabbi Low grave. Rabbi Low is a bit of a big deal, and friend and I had come to that understanding. That didn’t mean we were prepared for the French OAPs to begin praying over the grave. Being gentiles, friend and I were suitably concerned, and feeling awkward. We finally took the chance to make our escape after dropping our stones on the Rabbi’s grave for luck. After our tour we paused for a Chinese lunch, then into the National Library to see the Gigas Codex, aka the Devil’s Bible. Really wonderful actually. I enjoyed that exhibit immensely. Then the overload of information set in, and it was time for a coffee break at the Charles Bridge. Bit more wandering and poling heads in shops before heading back to the hostel. We’d made some new friends, and the group of us went out for karaoke at some club, where camp friend found me.

March 4: Happy Birthday to Older Brother. The night had caught up with us, so high school friend and I took a later morning, and then promptly walked up a very steep hill to see Prague’s version of the Eiffel Tower and the Hunger Wall. We wound our way towards Nove Mesto (Old Town) through Mala Strana (Castle District). We paused for more Chinese for lunch, and then peeked at the Kafka museum gift shop and the Lennon Wall. We attempted to see the grave of Tycho Brahe, but the church he’s at is closed to visitors, and it was raining, and we were tired….so we went to see Sweeney Todd.

March 5: I wandered Nove Mesto for a bit, and then wandered across the Charles Bridge and up the hill to see Prague Castle, the largest castle complex in the world. Friend and I made it in time to watch the changing of the guard. Fun little ceremony, but would have been better without the snow. Recognizing how cold we were, friend and I retreated to the Lobkowitz Palace for lunch and touring the museum. The Princely Collection at the Lobkowitz Palace is a fairly new collection, recently returned to the Lobkowitz family, and put on display. It’s pretty good, with free audio tours for the public, but there’s something very odd about Americans telling you “Welcome to my family’s collection!” After that it was out to see St. Vitus Cathedral, and I’m fairly sure I saw the saint’s bones. The tower was closed, so we finally decided to head back to Nove Mesto. We had some time to kill, so friend and I visited the very good, however small, Mucha Museum. I really do like Art Nouveau, ever since visiting Glasgow with all its Charles Rennie Mackintosh stuff a few years ago. After that it was time to see some Black Light Theatre, and its production of “Faust”. Let’s just say, it was an adventure.

March 6: Busy day! Visited the train station to figure out tickets for friend, then back up to the castle to see St. George’s Basilica, Golden Lane, and the National Gallery. After lunch at Lobkowitz, out and down into St. Nicholas Church, then back across the river to see the afternoon showing of “Don Giovanni” done by marionettes.

Aside: Prague is the city Mozart was living in when he completed his opera “Don Giovanni”. He was so enchanted by the city and its people; he rewarded them with the premiere of that opera. And now it’s done daily by puppets.

Ran some errands before friend popped of to Poland (how lovely that we can say things like that), and I was left to amuse myself.

March 7: Slept in a bit, as much as possible in a hostel setting, and then set off. I went back up to the Castle to try for the Old Palace, but it was closed for the day. Some great to-so was going on up there, with lots of big black cars with flags on them and extra soldiers, but it was far too cold to stick around. I finally left, paused for some coffee at Starbucks, and then climb the Astronomical Clock. Wonderful views of the city from up there, and a chance to see the tourists gather to watch the hour. After that I did some souvenir shopping, and finally went up to see the National Museum. Cute building, but the collection of dead animals was astounding. Not the best museum I’ve been too, but impressive to see that many dead things. And the room of fish only served to remind me that I really don’t see how people can eat those awful things. Got a dinner of Czech kielbasa off a roadside stand, and wound my way back home to pack.

March 8: Paused at the Easter markets on my way back to the airport, and then got home….somehow. And that was it really. I got to Prague, I had a relaxing trip. I saw wonderful people, a lovely city, and didn’t come home exhausted, like the Italy sojourn.