I can't find it in myself to be kind about Prague. I can't. I actually want to, but it is impossible.
We got there late at night, and it had been raining for what seemed like, and probably was, hours. The entire city was wet. Hell, my hair was soggy just after a 40 foot walk to the front door of our hotel (which, for some weird reason, had a sculpture that looked like a large vagina on the wall. I still don't know what the hell it was.) We were absolutely thrashed after Berlin, so we crashed, and crashed hard. The next day, after getting up early for breakfast, I went back to the hotel room and slept again until late afternoon (sorry 'bout that, Jen!). We finally got up and decided to go check out the city.
Courtesy of shit directions from the receptionist, we couldn't figure out how the hell to get to our tram to take us into town. It was supposed to be close and really easy, but that's only if you know that "right" means "right" and "left" means "left", which the lady at the reception did not know. We wandered out, again in the rain, and found a bus stop, which was not what we needed. We walked back through the mud and muck to our hotel, got new directions, then promptly got lost. Thank god for the young girls walking down the street that spoke english-they helped us figure it out. So, after strolling down the street, past what was quite possibly the dreariest, saddest little storefronts, we found our tram.
...An aside about the storefronts. No bullshit, one of them was wire racks decorated with aluminum foil. Which was then used to display the oldest, most busted crap I have ever seen in a store. Garage sale, yes, actual store, no. Then the auto parts store, with its sassy selection of 1987 Communist motor parts, was also a damn shame.
We took the tram to Muzeum, which is the center of old town, the super touristy part. The buildings there are quite pretty, but the whole area, like most super touristy areas, was rather cheap and tawdry. Money changing offices everywhere, overpriced and overproduced trinkets in every window, the always present McDonalds. I came for the beautiful and historic Prague, I got the Eastern European Las Vegas. Disappointment. I was starving, and looking for a good Czech eating experience, so we went down some alley and found a little restaurant that sounded pretty good. And the ribs were yummy, but that's about all that's positive I can say about the place. So we wandered some more and headed back to the hotel.
We were back relatively early, which meant "random shit on the internet" playtime. I introduced Jen to prisonpenpals.com, which is always good for a laugh, and we found that having a mustache might mean that you have criminal tendencies. We also tried to plan our next day, and knew that there was a free tour running twice a day through the city. We were super excited about that- we had done tours with the same company in Berlin and Munich, and always enjoyed learning more about the city, and hearing about what else to go see.
So we got up at the crack of dawn (9 am) and busted our asses to get down to Muzeum again by 1045. We made it, just in time. But....no tour guide. No other people waiting for the tour. So we hustled our asses down to the 11 am meeting point and...no tour guide. Other people waiting, that also got disappointed. Well dammit! So we wandered around old town again, decided to grab the tour at 1 pm. Prague has a christmas market (like 20 stalls, tiny and pathetic compared to the christmas markets in Germany), but they had this delightful little cinnamon donut thing that was like a muff. Not the perverted muff, but the kind of muff rich ladies wear to keep their hands warm. Still, we had a lot of hilarious and totally inappropriate muff jokes after that ("my muff is nice and warm, want some?" and "mmm, your muff tastes so sweet" were but two). Regardless, it was delicious, and sugary and cinnamony and delightful. Eventually, we head back to the tour meeting point around 1230.
And omg, guess what? No fucking tour guide, again!! We were so pissed off! We were really looking forward to doing the tour, learning about the history of the city, and twice in one day we get screwed out of a tour. We were not happy campers. We pretty much had no other idea of what to do. So we did some people watching.
And oh. Oh dear. What a FANTASTIC idea!
It was fashion epic fail as far as the eye could see. They love their leopard print there, and weird boots, too. Everyone looked like they had gotten dressed in the dark. We saw one well-dressed old lady. Just the one. Everyone else was a hot mess. Plus, their hair...oh my. From what I can only guess, magenta hair dye is the only thing available in Prague, and those mofos buy that shit in bulk. But it must be expensive, because they only dye small chunks of their hair at any given time. Someone might have magenta bangs, while someone else has a magenta rattail, and the lady next to that person has a magenta chunk on one side of their head. It is the weirdest shit.
But....the award for most awe-inspiring hairdo goes to the guy with the dread rattail. Yes, let that sink in for a minute. Dread. Rattail. Not dreaded rattail, noooo. A rattail that was a single, lonely dreadlock. It was incredible. Jen and I both stared in horror until we could no longer see him, at which point we both said "what the fuck?!? did you see that?!?" Oh yes, we saw it. I can never unsee it now. Sadly, fashion fail watching can only last for so long.
So, we do what would do in other cities-hop on a bus and get a cheap tour of the city.
It is important to note, however, that unlike other cities, there are no places to buy bus or tram tickets. You can buy subway tickets in the subway, but nowhere to get bus or tram tickets. We looked. Oh yes, we looked. They were only 33 krona (1 euro), and there were price lists at every stop, but no. fucking. ticket. machines.
^Don't do this on a tram in Prague^ (whatever that is)Moving on... we ended up in some weird industrial section, so we hopped off and waited for the return bus. At this point, I saw something weird that I have to mention. It looked like there was a building on fire, but there was no smoke. What I was seeing was the reflection of the setting sun in mirrored windows- it was really cool looking. Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of it. But I clearly remember the effect-sorry I can't share it lol!
Anyways, here's the best part of the trip, the rotten cherry on the top of our sad little sundae... on the bus on the way back to our hotel, we were talking, as we are wont to do. In English, of course. So these 2 guys pick us out of the crowd and begin to hassle us. I get mad just thinking about it. The unfairness, the inequality, the jackass-ness of it all....that's it, we were done. Back to the hotel we go, for a yummy dinner, the packing and sleep.
In the midst of all this, we learn about the sex trade in Prague. Apparently, men come from all over Europe for their choice of hot young poontang. That a lot of these women are sex slaves means nothing. I am so glad I was not born in a poor country, and that I didn't have to be sold in order for my family to be able to eat during a long, cold winter. I am so glad that I do not have to sell myself to any one of repuslive, slimy men to support my drug habit, or pimp. I know that some women do it because they enjoy it, and they make a lot of money and they are in control of the situation. But most of these girls don't get that choice. It's literally do or die. And yes, I'm sure they get an occasional hot guy, but still, I'm sure the majority are gross men. I've seen Cops, you don't see hot guys buying hookers! It's Cletus with one rotted tooth left in his mouth and a sweaty $20 he had left over from his most recent drug deal buying a quick and dirty romp behind a dumpster, not the hot guy with a heart of gold. It is one thing to do something because you want to, and another to do something because you have no choice but to. Ok, rant over.
Next day, we got our ride back to Munich, and I swear that I felt better just being over the country line. Getting back to Munich was good for my heart and my soul. Just being there was healing.
Up next, my last day in Munich... *sob*
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