With beers to a variety of beers to pregame with we headed back to our hotel to clean up for a night out. Distracted by exhaustion and reports of turmoil in Egypt, we moved slowly through our beers and primping. Knowing full well, that this was not the time to watch news in bed (not that anytime really is), we rallied with a half ass power hour. Finally we were ready to brave the cold again…..
Armed with recommendations from fellow travelers, we headed for the Little Goat Bar but as fast as we were in, we were out to find the non-dinner crowd. On our way to the next stop we ran bumped into the bar crawl crowd. 50 tourists, in matching tshirts, overpaying for the comfort of other internationals and an American drink leader….that and a few cheap shots of vodka. But blind promises of the best night ever, were not enough of a reason for us to part with £35.…nonetheless, the leader took a liking to us and told us to follow along, sans matching t-shirt of course. We followed along, unimpressed by the group and the cheap shots of vodka, so we decided to make our on way when the leader urged us to follow to the next stop. After the bar was pretty cool, it looked as if it had been carved out of a tunnel system and the beers were cheap. As we left, we avoided the crisscrossing crawl crowd and headed to the Harley bar. It was, as recommended, crowded and wild. The bartenders donned in drag, were the first to serve us the burning that is absinthe. The taste of fiery black licorice lasted longer than it probably should have. Making friends with fellow Americans and the crowd around us, we spent the rest of the night there… With the help of another shot and one too many cheap beers we were stumbling lost on the streets toward the hotel by 2.…so much for a 5am night….
It may have been the dehydration that woke us but for the first time in our travels we were up early enough to take advantage of the free breakfast (even if it was just rolls and yoghurt). Even with an after roll nap, we were still out in plenty of time to seize the day. But first, we had a score to settle with the sausage cart…what kind of food cart closes before the drunks have a chance to stumble out and make questionable eating choices? Much to our disappointment we never got to take advantage of the glorious looking pretzels and sausages after our crawling. So before any sites were seen, we were determined to soak up the green, unfortunately it looked much more appetizing than it was. The chewy, hardness of it made me almost loose my cookies. With a quid wasted, we opted for the save bet of pizza. Greased up, we were off to check out Josefov, the old Jewish ghetto. Despite the Nazi occupation, a few synagogues, a cemetery, and town hall still remain, preserved on Hilter’s orders. In a twisted fashion, only Hitler could muster, Josefov was his planned museum of an extinct race. Much to my disappointment, virtually everything is closed on Saturdays during off-peak months. We peaked through gates to view the cemetery where one grave topples on top of another, the crowdedness of it all is disturbing. From there we tried out the trolley system to take us to Mala Strana to pick up the funicular railway for Petrin. The trolley dropped us at the Memorial to the victims of communism. I’m rarely one for modern art but there is something striking and eerie about it. A series of statues, standing on steps, each more broken and cracked than the previous. At the end, there is virtually nothing left of the man.
The railway climbs up the hill bringing small groups up to a large park area atop the slope. Home of the Rozhledna aka a mini Eiffel Tower is what draws the tourists. For only £2, you can climb the tower, 1/5 the size of the original, as see stunning views of the city. Descending back down the hill, we mapped our way to Wenceslas Square, Prague’s ‘New Town’ for dinner and trinket shopping. We found a traditional Czech restaurant and gorged on salads and goulash, comfort food after comfort food, we were stuffed to food coma status. As much as I wanted to crawl into a warm bed, we forced ourselves to enjoy some pints at a traditional pub,U medvidku, a beer hall dating back to the 13th century. It reminded me of a cafeteria, long wooden tables filled a big hall, nothing fancy, just budvar and a cloud of smoke. A beer called Olgott and an order of warm apple strudel was just about my idea of heaven….when I die, I want to wake up surrounded by strudel and a case of Oldgott! But just like the UK, pubs close way too early for my liking… tired but not defeated we followed the sounds of music and pint glasses clinking. We stumbled right into expat country…not ours but the Aussies….if there is one thing we have in common, its that Americans and Aussies are everywhere! We chatted a little with some Brits, had shots poured down our throat by some over-excited Aussies, signed our name to the collage on the wall, and sang to along to some classic live music, and we even said ‘no’ when pressured to stay and enjoy the last ever night of that bar. Afterall, we can’t have a repeat of Spain!
Armed with recommendations from fellow travelers, we headed for the Little Goat Bar but as fast as we were in, we were out to find the non-dinner crowd. On our way to the next stop we ran bumped into the bar crawl crowd. 50 tourists, in matching tshirts, overpaying for the comfort of other internationals and an American drink leader….that and a few cheap shots of vodka. But blind promises of the best night ever, were not enough of a reason for us to part with £35.…nonetheless, the leader took a liking to us and told us to follow along, sans matching t-shirt of course. We followed along, unimpressed by the group and the cheap shots of vodka, so we decided to make our on way when the leader urged us to follow to the next stop. After the bar was pretty cool, it looked as if it had been carved out of a tunnel system and the beers were cheap. As we left, we avoided the crisscrossing crawl crowd and headed to the Harley bar. It was, as recommended, crowded and wild. The bartenders donned in drag, were the first to serve us the burning that is absinthe. The taste of fiery black licorice lasted longer than it probably should have. Making friends with fellow Americans and the crowd around us, we spent the rest of the night there… With the help of another shot and one too many cheap beers we were stumbling lost on the streets toward the hotel by 2.…so much for a 5am night….
It may have been the dehydration that woke us but for the first time in our travels we were up early enough to take advantage of the free breakfast (even if it was just rolls and yoghurt). Even with an after roll nap, we were still out in plenty of time to seize the day. But first, we had a score to settle with the sausage cart…what kind of food cart closes before the drunks have a chance to stumble out and make questionable eating choices? Much to our disappointment we never got to take advantage of the glorious looking pretzels and sausages after our crawling. So before any sites were seen, we were determined to soak up the green, unfortunately it looked much more appetizing than it was. The chewy, hardness of it made me almost loose my cookies. With a quid wasted, we opted for the save bet of pizza. Greased up, we were off to check out Josefov, the old Jewish ghetto. Despite the Nazi occupation, a few synagogues, a cemetery, and town hall still remain, preserved on Hilter’s orders. In a twisted fashion, only Hitler could muster, Josefov was his planned museum of an extinct race. Much to my disappointment, virtually everything is closed on Saturdays during off-peak months. We peaked through gates to view the cemetery where one grave topples on top of another, the crowdedness of it all is disturbing. From there we tried out the trolley system to take us to Mala Strana to pick up the funicular railway for Petrin. The trolley dropped us at the Memorial to the victims of communism. I’m rarely one for modern art but there is something striking and eerie about it. A series of statues, standing on steps, each more broken and cracked than the previous. At the end, there is virtually nothing left of the man.
The railway climbs up the hill bringing small groups up to a large park area atop the slope. Home of the Rozhledna aka a mini Eiffel Tower is what draws the tourists. For only £2, you can climb the tower, 1/5 the size of the original, as see stunning views of the city. Descending back down the hill, we mapped our way to Wenceslas Square, Prague’s ‘New Town’ for dinner and trinket shopping. We found a traditional Czech restaurant and gorged on salads and goulash, comfort food after comfort food, we were stuffed to food coma status. As much as I wanted to crawl into a warm bed, we forced ourselves to enjoy some pints at a traditional pub,U medvidku, a beer hall dating back to the 13th century. It reminded me of a cafeteria, long wooden tables filled a big hall, nothing fancy, just budvar and a cloud of smoke. A beer called Olgott and an order of warm apple strudel was just about my idea of heaven….when I die, I want to wake up surrounded by strudel and a case of Oldgott! But just like the UK, pubs close way too early for my liking… tired but not defeated we followed the sounds of music and pint glasses clinking. We stumbled right into expat country…not ours but the Aussies….if there is one thing we have in common, its that Americans and Aussies are everywhere! We chatted a little with some Brits, had shots poured down our throat by some over-excited Aussies, signed our name to the collage on the wall, and sang to along to some classic live music, and we even said ‘no’ when pressured to stay and enjoy the last ever night of that bar. Afterall, we can’t have a repeat of Spain!
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