Prague

Prague has been, perhaps, the most hyped cities I have visited. Ever since my first year of college, I have had people shouting at me, "Go to Prague!!" Even in Berlin and Munich, fellow hostelers were singing the glories of the mystical city. And, with three years of build-up, I was waiting to be disappointed. And, to a certain extent, I was.

Prague is beautiful and picturesque, no doubt about it. And it would be the perfect town to visit when there aren't that many people around. However, that may not happen ever again. Prague has been found, and the tourist trade has taken hold. So, after a day of wandering in the Old City, I was done rubbing up against other sweaty tourists waiting in line to join more sweaty tourists in our quest to "see Prague." Prague Castle was cool (and seeing the room where the Defenestration of Prague occurred completed my 9th grade History Day project for me), the views were incredible, the Charles Bridge at sunset is a sight to behold. But, after a day, I was done with the biggies. And, with the hype, I was determined to find out why everybody loves Prague.

My second day in the city, I decided to do two things. Tactics that have worked in other tourist towns (most notably Florence). I hopped a tram and rode it as far as it went, determined to walk the entire length back, taking as many back roads as possible. In this case, I would up walking back through a cemetery, with tombs going back as far as the early 1800s. I noticed the differences in tombstone styles, especially those produced during the Communist era. The crosses and religious artifacts began to disappear or become much smaller under the Communists, and the graves took on a more manufactured, boxy form. Naturally, after the fall of the USSR, the religious symbols came back in full force. This little observation was made even more interesting because I wound up watching a funeral in action. A few yards away from the bench where I chose to sit for a few minutes was the site of an open grave. Intrigued, but hoping to remain discrete and appropriate, I watched from a distance, fascinated to see the mix of grief and jubilation that followed this person's burial. Perhaps it was an invasion, or perhaps it was truly "through the back door." Either way, it was fascinating.

After lunch at a little, out-of-the-way family restaurant (where I dined on the "national meal" of beer, pork, sauerkraut and knedliky, or dumpling, for the ridiculously low price of Kc 99, or about $5), I returned to the "main tourist drag" and employed tactic number 2: sit down and stay seated. It was a beautiful, sunny day, just right for an afternoon relaxing on the grassy banks of the river Vltava, which runs through Prague. I found a spot, spread out my jacket, grabbed my novel and started to chill. Suddenly, I heard over my shoulder every actor's favorite words: "Quiet on the set!" I turned around and realized that, yes indeed, there was a movie in action behind me! I have no idea what it was, or where it will be showing, but I watched take after take of a romantic love scene between two Czech actors who, it appears, couldn't figure out how to make out well enough for the close-ups. After their repeated failures grew tiresome, I turned my gaze to the print sellers along the river. With the sun at the right angle, the prints of typical Prague scenery turn into little shimmering "stained glass windows," producing vivid images that glow, lighting them up in a deceptive, but utterly intriguing, way. From a distance, I watched as artists peddled their wears, as tourists threw coins into the case of a sidewalk guitarists, as boats floated town the Vltava, past the towering castle. And I stayed there until the sun set.

That's the Prague I will remember. And that's the Prague that didn't disappoint.

My Own Love Parade

I survived the dreaded 5am train ride to Berlin by wrapping myself in my sleeping bag, inflating neck pillow and doing all that I could to imagine that the drunk German tour group behind me was not actually there. Funny how the brain has a way of making things more fun when you are really sleepy!

I arrived in Berlin at around 11:30, raced to my hostel (in the former East), dropped my bags and went down to reception. You see, I had only been able to book one night this hostel because, for some strange reason, July 15 was all booked up. It turned out that they were indeed full, as is every other hostel in Berlin, excused by this mysterious occurrence known as "Love Parade." Yes, from what I have learned, this techno music parade/protest/excuse to take ecstasy and dance all night, has been on hiatus for the last two years due to funding problems. Well, now that the "love" is back, there's no room at the inn(s) for Ethan. Literally. I called around to few neighboring villages with the same result. Nada. I temporarily thought about partying all night in true raver spirit, but my night of no sleep and my 10am checkout time at the hostel got the best of me. So, faced with the probability of 24 hours in Berlin, I planned for Prague, knowing it was only a quick train ride away.

But not before another bike tour, a lightning fast look at the Berlin Wall and related sights, another evening of smooth, tasty German beer (mmm...) and a night walk with two older German men and their dogs. Neither spoke any English, but we bonded over our love of Golden Retrievers (a love which has no language barrier).

The next morning, I raced to the EurAide office at Berlin Hautbahnhopf and prayed for ticket availability. Indeed, there were tickets to Prague! Four trains leaving that day! Hurrah! Salvation and a hostel bed! However, the next train with availability left at 16:42, giving me a leisurely five hours to hang around this train station (hey, I never said I got up early!) With that time, I figured that a trip to sights and the Love Parade were more or less out of the question, especially considering that the line for bag check was up to an hour wait. I slumped against a wall and decided to make the best of it.

My first discovery was that German fast food is amazing! I hopped over to the food court, searching for some sort of lunch, and discovered a (get this) fast food fish restaurant. Not the breaded-and-fried variety that we are used to in the States. No, this was a filet of the best (and salmon too!) Comes on a real plate with potatoes and salad for the cost of a Big Mac Extra Value Meal. I ate greedily as I read a copy of the International Herald Tribune.

My next, and perhaps most entertaining, discovery is that the Love Parade unofficially starts in Berlin Hbf. Not any sort of really parading, but more the whole "we got dressed before we came to Berlin and are holding a boom box blaring techno so we're gonna party like it's 1989" kind of parade. Everywhere. I passed a group of guys with spiked hair dyed orange in platform boots, jamming out to some sort of funky beat. Then it was the woman in what appeared to be a only a thong and pasties, strolling with her boyfriend, clad in a silver Zoot Suit with dreads down to his waist. My favorite, however, were the pack of Playboy Bunnies (in rainbow colors) of mixed genders. Not only were they a sight to behold, but they somehow figured out how to slow dance on the platform to some sort of techno sound. The station's shiny globalized non-place-ness was punctuated by these bright bits of color and locality, making my five hours of people watching (accompanied by salmon) almost as good as a day at the Parade.

Despite the fact that I missed the view from the Reichstag, a relaxed stroll through the Checkpoint Charlie museum, any sort of quality time with the Berlin Wall and all of the theater that this vibrant city has to offer, I'm not calling it a bust. It was a side of the city most people only whiz through, but I got it all. And, boy, was it fun!