Czech Republic - Prague

We spent our last day in Berlin on the banks of the Spree river at the DDR museum which exists to show the quality of life for the average citizen of communist East Berlin.  One does not need a museum to ascertain that the quality of life was not that great, but it was still a kitschy, inexpensive way to fill the time before we were due at the central bus station at 3:00.  We spent the early morning packing, cooking breakfast, and cleaning the flat, and we even managed to catch the early bus to the train platform.  Our flat in Potsdam was so comfortable that it was hard to lock the door and walk away for the last time.  

Back in the center of Berlin, we discovered large lockers for rent at the Alexanderplatz, and we were able to stow all our gear—walking around was then a lot easier.  The DDR museum was not too crowded, and thanks to our sacred printer, we already had tickets in hand and could sail through the entrance.  Overall, exhibits in the museum were kind of hokey, but there were excellent maps and explanations of the the government setup, and culture references were posted everywhere in an easy-to-follow format.  The curators did their best to provide English-speaking visitors proper translation. I got a kick out of reading signs with out-of-date idioms like “...a dishwasher was as rare as hen’s teeth.”  I enjoyed seeing the two cars on display:  one was the tiny Trabant, the ONLY car available to citizens of East Berlin, if they could survive the seventeen-year waiting list to get one, and the dark blue Volvo Landaulet reserved for the ruling class...or whatever they were since the society was supposed to be classless...hmmm.  The main point of the museum was to show the disparity between the average citizen living in fear and want and the government living in plenty with laser focus on controlling the lives of the people.  The creepiest display was a kindergarten classroom which was considered the gateway to grooming a child for service to the state. It was full of propaganda appealing to children.

We got our eight euros worth out of the DDR museum, ate our lunch of peanut butter sandwiches and apples on the bank of the Spree, and watched the tour boats glide by in the early afternoon sun.  We hiked back to the train station, retrieved our luggage, and spent an hour searching for a non-existent bus stop due to outdated information from one of our trusted navigation sites.  Fortunately, we had plenty of time and were able to figure out an alternate route to the central bus station, and made it there after a thirty-minute train ride and a half-mile walk.  We found our platform, loaded our gear on the bus, and settled in for a four-hour ride to Prague, our home for the next nine days.  The ride was smooth and  uneventful, and we arrived in Prague around 8:00 in light rain and darkness.  Deena negotiated a taxi ride, and fifteen minutes and 300 kronus (12 dollars) later, we were greeted at our new flat by Monika, the cheerful and efficient owner.  The flat is beautiful, well-stocked, and inexpensive, a great combination.  Monika spent a lot of time with us explaining the public transportation system and showing us the locations of nearby grocery stores and restaurants.  Eastern Europe is known for less expensive goods and services, and we’re hoping for a little lighter tension on our budget.  We settled in quickly and crawled into soft beds with thick comforters, ready for some good rest and excited about exploring a new city.

Next day, we began a new routine that will be our modus operandi through eastern Europe.  After our stay in Prague, we’ll be in Krakow, Poland, followed by Budapest, Hungary.  Since we’re staying in each area for a longer period of time, there’s not so much pressure to pack in the sights, and we can get a lot of schoolwork done.  After breakfast, the kids started their assignments about 10:00 while Deena and I ventured out to explore the neighborhood and to buy groceries.  There are several small markets within a couple of blocks of our flat as well as a huge drugstore that has more than one brand of deodorant and toothpaste unlike the stores in other countries where we've been traveling.  We enjoyed a big lunch together around the kitchen table and gave the kids the option to do another session of school after lunch or in the evening upon returning from sightseeing—they chose the afternoon.

 

Today was the first day of autumn, my favorite season and one that brings me a strange mixture of comfort, reflection, and yearning—for what, I do not know.  Maybe it’s for the small, simple joys of youth and the pleasures of being a reflective child during the fall.  Growing up, I loved this time of year when the trees were tipped with red and gold, and the low angle of the sun stretched longer shadows on the ground all through the day.  The air became dry and crisp with a slight chill that was just enough to warrant pulling on my favorite faded jeans and trusty denim jacket.  I didn’t mind that darkness came earlier, and I enjoyed riding my bike in the twilight as the smell of crunchy decaying leaves and woodsmoke from neighborhood chimneys took me deeper into the reverie of the season.  School didn’t provide much pleasure for me, but I endured the long days in the classroom anticipating weekends, Halloween, and Thanksgiving.  

When I was twelve years old, I discovered The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, and the pattern of my life was forever altered.  Along with The Hobbit, these three volumes became my escape from the realities of life, and I spent hours in my room reading every word wishing I could travel to Middle Earth.  Since that time, I’ve read Tolkien's masterful trilogy every year beginning on September 22, Bilbo and Frodo Baggins’ shared birthday, and I started reading it again for the 38th time yesterday—call me a geek, I do not care.  The Lord of the Rings is my literary mountaintop, and I have read every word of the forewords from many editions, the prologue, the works themselves including every line of every poem and song, and the appendices at the end of The Return of the King.  After lunch yesterday as I opened our sitting room window, I could see the courtyard one floor below lined with oaks and evergreens and the grass already partially covered with yellow leaves.  A light breeze carrying a slight chill softly swelled into the room as I settled into a chair and entered Middle Earth one more time.  As locations and points of reference shift in life, I’m thankful for the few small alcoves that are unchanging and offer comfort and refuge through the course of the journey.

We determined that we would tackle the Prague tram system, have dinner in Wenceslas Square, and return to our flat before darkness set in.  With that lofty goal in mind, we hit the streets in search of a place to change paper money into coins for the ticket machine, and then find a ticket machine—and then find our tram stop.  All those things accomplished, we finally boarded a tram an hour later about fifty percent sure we were headed in the right direction.  Even though the Czech language sounds softer than German, it’s just as undecipherable with added symbols making it appear Elvish.  Many helpful people have already offered assistance by counting change and pointing directions down the angling avenues.  

Our research paid off, and we stepped off the tram into Wenceslas Square to join the throng of people strolling the square, enjoying the sights, and searching for a suitable restaurant.  Our aim this early in our stay was not historical but to start getting a feel for this 1,100 year old city and life in eastern Europe.  A popular meeting place for citizens of Prague is “under the tail”—the area around the statue of good prince Wenceslas sitting on his horse, presiding over one of the largest and busiest squares in Prague.  The stirring view from this statue overlooks colorful buildings and distant spires, and we began our search for food from this spot.

The Side of the Square

Like any good travel enthusiasts looking to sample local Czech culinary staples, we had dinner at a Chinese restaurant located on the second floor of an alley building right over the Zombie Bar.  The fried rice and sweet and sour pork was delicious and cheap, and we enjoyed our repast looking out the window onto the square below.  There was a gelato stand right outside the alley, and of course we stopped there to order cones of limone, fragola, chocolate, and Snickers to top off our meal.  We strolled to the far end of the square about a half mile away and found ourselves in the midst of a fall festival complete with mulled cider and wooden carts full of bright orange pumpkins.  There were vendors roasting whole pigs on a spit, craftsmen offering their creations for sale, and a blacksmith was working in his shop right in the middle of everything, the smoke from the forge tinting the air with the acrid tang of bituminous coal.  We wished we had discovered the festival upon our arrival on the square, but we decided to return over the weekend and sample some of the food.  We achieved our goal of arriving back at our flat before dark, and by 8:00 we were settled in and doing a little reading before bed.  Much to our delight, a quick review of our expenditures for the day revealed that we were under budget by half—welcome to eastern Europe!