Across the Bridge Into the Jewish Quarter

Since tomorrow is my last chance to see the sights I decided, before eating dinner, to see what it would involve to cross the river and check out the Jewish Quarter which is supposed to be the best part of Prague. This is the start of the bridge, looking to the left and you can just see the Franz Kafka museum there on the left side.
Here is straight across looking into the Jewish Quarter.

Here is to the right.

And here is the other side of the Jewish Quarter.

It's actually an easy walk and so that is where I will be tomorrow afternoon.

Looking Back over the Bridge

There are about five layers of awesomeness in this picture.
This is looking from the Charles Bridge back to where I was walking yesterday. If you enlarge the photo you can see the wall I was talking about on the extreme left of the picture and the tower I climbed over to the right. My legs are still aching but my calf muscles are TIGHT!

After my late afternoon constitutional I headed back to my favorite street-side cafe to eat dinner. It was only about 6:30 which is early here, but my body is so messed up I don't know what meal I should be eating--all I know is that there will be potatoes and/or pancakes involved.

By now the waiter grins inanely when he sees me. I don't know what I do wrong or strange but he's loving it. He's very tall and skinny (weedy) with black hair and big bulgy black eyes--and very white skin. A bit like a vampire, now that I think about it. Anyway, whatever I order he tells me is an "excellent" choice. (I was even told that the buttered string beans were "Excellent!"--and, actually, they were pretty good and, as Simon knows, I know green beans.) I read through my paper which I am giving tomorrow and cut out about 1000 words because everyone is going over their time limit and people are starting to get really resentful. By the time I present there may be a riot.

Morning, Day 2

This morning I woke up around 2 a.m. Prague time and was wide awake and bored. I tried for about an hour to make myself fall back asleep (which is actually hard to do when one aspect of your internal self is pointing out to your other self that you are, quite disobediently, still awake.) I must have fallen asleep eventually because suddenly my alarm was going off at 7 and it was light out. So I showered and headed downstairs to eat and make myself a plan for the day. The breakfasts served at this hotel are MASSIVE. I'll have to take a picture of the serving table because it looks vaguely like Cinderella's coach in the Disney movie. But we are given platter after platter of pink spotty pork (which I have avoided), many kinds of cheeses, fruit salad, lettuce salad, three platters of various danishes and doughnuts, two platters of breads from the local bakery (which is about 4 doors away)--the rye and black breads are THE BEST!!!--and never mind the hot plate which has 3 (!!) kinds of potatoes, eggs [Brief interlude: the eggs, I believe, were fried in deep fat so that the whites are crispy black and the yolks are creamed as if, after being fried, were removed, whipped with mustard and mayonaise, and then scooped back into the white egg pocket--sort of like a twice-baked potato. I had one yesterday and that was enough.] and more sausages [Another brief interlude: I really had no idea how many shapes and colors pork sausaged can take. This morning's were light brown, thick and short with little knots on each end--sort of like a really tiny, fat bologna link.] I haven't eaten any of the sausage, which is always pork, and yet my clothes stink of it. When I showered this morning I could smell pork steam coming off me. As I was eating my various breads and pastries, I was going over my paperwork, throwing out stuff I no longer need and became slightly uneasy as I looked over my hotel receipt. Despite the fact that my reservation was made to last until 5/6/10, I kept seeing the date 5/5/10 being tossed about on the receipt. The whole thing was in Czech so it was not obvious what it was saying. So I asked the receptionist and he said, "Oh, no, that is just a number. Ah, but yes, HERE is does say that you are leaving on the 5th." I showed him my airline ticket itinerary which clearly showed that I am NOT leaving on the 5th. "Ah, yes. That IS a problem. I'll have to find you a room." Hmm. Another room that I'm not really supposed to have? I was assured that he would "talk to the management" and then "let me know." What a way to start the day. So, with an hour to kill I set out to see some sights, the first of which was an ATM. Here it is, just off to the left (which you can't actualy see). It is more than a little thrilling to get 2,000 of anything out of an ATM. The math is too complicated for me so I'm not exactly sure how many $$ that is.

Here (again, I think) is the Panna Maria Vitezna which my travel book describes as a "rather plain church" (I think the writer really needs to see the insides of the ones I sat in as a child) which houses the Bambino di Praha, which is wax replica of Baby Jesus, encased in glass an illuminated with flashing lights. This is an arty shot that I couldn't resist. I love the store signs. What the hell do they mean?

It was about 8:15 by the time I got my cash and got to the church but found that it didn't open until 8:30. So I waited on the steps for the doors to unlock and watch the people go by. One young man came, pulled a pair of work gloves out of his backpack and set to picking up all the cigarette butts off the steps. After he was done he did the crossing business, then got back on his bike and went on his way. Penance or OC disorder? Another rather unclean person (the phrase "the unwashed masses" sprang to mind) came sidling up the steps, looking about the place from underneath her mess of hair. She waited until 8:28 then, seemingly panicked, bolted down the stairs scuttling sideways like a crab. Finally at 8:30 the doors were unlocked from within. Just at that moment, another older lady came quickly up the steps and rushed inside. The inside was, not surprisingly, ornate, dark and stank slightly of mold. Smells like religious spirit, I suppose. I saw about 12 of these signs above collection boxes scattered about the main inner chamber. Does baby Jesus need the hellers (Czech pennies--one heller is worth about 1/27th U.S. cent)?

And here he is, Bambino il Praha, in all his glory. I didn't get too close as you can see the earnest woman is still going through her prayers, or whatever. She certainly knew her ritual because as I walked around her she could watch me like a hawk while not slowing the flow of her incantations one bit. She was obviously annoyed but also really curious, too. Maybe my existence has given her something to speculate about today. I hope so. Since Bambino is capable of performing miracles I had vague hopes of my achy knees being cured but, so far at least, no such luck. I'm sure the fact that I lack faith is part of the problem but, wouldn't it be even more miraculous if my knee pain was suddenly cured despite my lack of faith?

Unlike the Catholic missionaries in Arizona I was forced to visit on school trips in 8th grade, this one didn't have a giant plexiglass casket filled with hair and toenail clippings people had brought in for...well, I'm not sure, actually, what that was about but, anyway, there were no body-part offerings here so it was a bit of a disappointment, really. Still, Jesus' outfit was pretty flash. (That's him up there, near the top, in the middle wearing the red satin dress and white ermine cape--click on the picture to enlarge it for a better view.)

Early morning adventures

It's quite amazing how stupid a person can be in a strange land after a 20 hour travel ordeal. It took me about an hour to get the point of this little gadget just inside my hotel room door. The first thing I wanted to do yesterday after getting my room was to take a shower but I couldn't get the bathroom lights to go on. In fact, none of the room's lights would go on. I half wondered if this was part of the "you really shouldn't even be in that room" deal. Finally, I noticed this key pad and mused, "Now why would I want to unlock the inside of the door?" and then the penny dropped--this is the electricity trigger. I was feeling very stupid until I went back downstairs yesterday and my pretty/nice receptionist was trying to explain to another guest in broken English that "the key goes in something like a pocket and when you do that--poof--you have lights!" The guest either had even worse English or was simple because she just stared open-mouthed at this explanation and, then, wondered off looking very confused. I wonder if she ever did figure it out.
This is cool. It is a two-button toilet flush. The big button is for big flushes--the water pours round and round for a good full minute. The little button is for a little flush--just a spritz. I was half-fearing that one was a bidet flush and jumped up out of the way until I could test both and see what happened.

I haven't figured out yet what this little thing is--small bits of paper in a canister very low to the floor just near the toilet.

This is the stairwell from my room which I need to go down to get to the breakfast room and get outside. I was a bit surprised this morning to find it gated shut. I couldn't get the door to open and the knob didn't work. Finally, after standing there feeling very stupid (I really did not want to have to call out for someone to come and let me out) I noticed a TINY button on the wall, very high up. It buzzed and opened up the door.

I woke up about 4 this morning (I fell asleep about 8 last night) and was exhausted, hungry and bored of laying in bed. I also felt really icky from using body soap as shampoo yesterday. So I pissed about with the internet for a while (couldn't get it to work) and, finally, had a shower and got up to eat around 6. The breakfast was being set up so I ate and drank a ton of tea (the tea in the green packet is green tea, the tea in the blue packet is black tea) and decided to (a) find a store that sold a pen and notepad, (2) find a store that sold shampoo. I also wanted to find out about tipping. Yesterday at the cafe I got the distinct impression that I committed a faux pas when I tipped the waitress 20%. So I asked the guy at the reception desk what the respectable amount was. He shrugged (this gesture is becoming familiar) and said, "Oh, nothing much. Perhaps 5% at most." I thanked him and mentioned that I tipped about 20% yesterday. He gaped at me, said, "20%--for a waitress?!?" and then broke into silent convulsive giggles.

I did manage to get directions for a Tabac and grocery--only neither were where he said they were and, anyway, the stores aren't properly labeled here. Nothing has big, glass doors or windows that you can see into to see what is for sale (the doors are solid wood with giant knocker/handles) and the windows are display windows and they have very old, faded things in them). I did find shamppo and soap in a small corner grocery but it is amazing how difficult it is to buy shampoo when the labels are unintelligible. All the body soaps, shaving cream, washing liquids and such were all in strange bottles in strange colors (a lot of light purple things here). I took the one labeled "shampon". I went into three stores to buy a pen and finally found a stationary store that had one. I also asked for paper, and she first handed me a binder. Then when I gestured that I wanted what went inside the binder, she handed me a ream of printing paper. I said, no, I wanted something smaller, "not so much." So she handed me a tiny stack of stationary with Miss Kitty designs. So then I said I wanted something bigger in size but with lines. Then she got me a ream of lined A4 paper. I gave in at that point. (I would have just taken what I wanted but everything is on shelved behind counter, you can't just mill about grabbing what you want.) Well, the pen only cost about 5 cents and the paper was only about $2 so I took it. Now, my bag weighed about 10 pounds and it was just starting to rain. I was ready to start my morning walk.

In Search of a Castle

After having accomplished all my tasks for the morning I was feeling bold and decided to seek out the castle in town. Everything in this neighborhood (my hotel, the palace the conference I am attending) is described as being "under the castle." If I am going to live here for almost a week, I should get a look at the damn thing. This wall looks promising, so I set out to follow a path that winds up into the woods up along this wall.
Hmm. This isn't cheering. I'm assuming the walk will be rough but this seems needlessly grim.

Ah, while I have the chance: here is one of those electric trams that this city is famous for: they are cheap, reliable and run very regularly. But I have also heard that buying a ticket is maddeningly confusing and, if you get it wrong, the undercover ticket agents who ride the trams will get'cha and pack you off to a formerly Soviet holding cell to shake you down for a big fine. So far I haven't risked it. (Thank Christ there is a McDonald's in 700 m.)

About 1/10 of the way up the hillside I saw this statue. Don't know who he is but he has a pen in his right hand. (According to the dates below he only lived 26 years--some romantic poet, I am guessing.)

This was about 2/13ths of the way up the climb. It didn't look that magical to me, I must say.

By now I was seriously wondering if I was going to ever see anything. There were a lot of green arrows and promises of restaurants, but so far no sign of a castle.

Almost to the top...

Still no sign of a castle. But plenty of beautiful gardens. I'd love to sit and enjoy the beauty but it is raining steadily and all the seats are soaking wet.
Ok, my first sighting of a large structure but it isn't a castle, it's an observatory. And it didn't look like it is open to tourists but I did see rather nerdy looking sciency types bustling around, being very careful to close all gates completely after going through them.

Ok, now I'm getting somewhere. I'm guessing "hrad" means castle and "klaster" means churchy-type thing.

Another scenic garden. If I wasn't so winded I'd have spent time taking pictures of all the gardens for those that appreciate such things. They go in for lilacs, rhodededrons and roses in a big way here. The roses already have buds but no flowers. The city, too, is covered with flowers--tulips are the thing right now.

Hmm. This looks like the thing I need to climb to get a good view of the city. But by this point my shoulders are killing me from carrying a 40 pound bag filled with electronics and paper, I'm soaking wet and I am supposed to be going to a conference later today. Once I get there and see elderly Asian tourists trotting happily to the top, I decide to go for broke and attempt it myself.

Inside the base there was a young woman running the ticket counter. You could get two tickets, one for 100 crowns or one for 50 crowns. The 50 crown ticket was clearly for the elevator to the top of the tower. But it wasn't clear what the 100 crown ticket was for--was it for the castle/church/garden grounds or that AND the elevator? I asked and was told, "50 crowns for lift." I asked, "But the 100 crown ticket--is that just for the castle or the lift as well?" She shrugged and said, "Yeah, sure." I paid the 100 crowns but still am not confident of what exactly that entitled me to. I went round the backside and found the elevator door but it only goes up once an hour and had just left 2 minutes ago. Well, bugger that, I thought. So off I went to climb the tower under my own steam. I was very much reminded of climbing the tallest steeple in Europe (or so I was told--note, not highest steeple or even biggest church, just tallest steeple) in Ulm Germany. I was done in by the time I got to the top and was more than 20 years younger than I am now.

At the top...

Here is that oval garden mentioned before, as seen from above. The climb up the tower was an ordeal. One of those ordeals that you know is going to be bad before you begin and, about 1/3 in you think, "Oh God, this is worse than I thought." and then about 1/2 way in you think, "Oh God, this is worse than I thought even conceivable." and about 3/4 in you think, "Surely this cannot go on." and by the time you get to the top you aren't capable of lamenting, only trying to not fall over onto someone. Everyone hears that Eastern Eurpean women are sassy, and I've seen some evidence of that so far. Behind me were two couples, one woman in one of the couples clearly did not want to climb up the tower. Her boyfriend kept chivvying her along with words that I couldn't understand but imagined being something like, "You can do it! Almost there!" When they got to the top, about 3 minutes after I did, he cheered and opened his arms to give her a big hug. She popped him one in the chest, lit up a cigarette and smoked moodily while overlooking the cityscape.
This is the Charles Bridge I mentioned yesterday. It's a lot bigger when you're on it.

More of the city. I am sure it would be even more spectacular is the sun was shining but it is forecast to rain all week. And, anyway, even if we get sun I'm not climbing up this again.

I think my hotel is down there somewhere.

Oh, I get it. This is why I was one among about 5 people on the trail up the hill but there were mobs of people at the top. Anyway, I made it and didn't need to ride a sissy funicular tram. And I've heard that paying for tickets for trams is even more confusing than buying a ticket to ride a lift to the top of a tower.

After climbing back down I was seriously wondering if I would make it back to my hotel room. Obviously I did, though my legs were shaking by the time I got to the bottom of the hotel steps. Christ almighty this town likes its steps! I made it back to my room and used my well-earned shampoo (shampon). It is EXTRA MENTHOL and now my scalp is so tingly it almost hurts. (Maybe it isn't shampoo after all...)

Flint School of Performing Arts Showcase Concert

Well, the last post was Thomas strutting his Bassoon stuff, this one is him on percussion. Our regular reader(s) might remember last year's concert that featured the theme from the Pirates of the Caribbean. This year's (also at Flint's Whiting Theatre, which hosts just about everybody, including people like Bill Cosby and Jerry Seinfeld) was both less classy (Mamma Mia/Dancing Queen - as seen on this Blog earlier this year) and more so (the following selection from Sibelius (Symphony #2 in D Major)). As before, this is the final all-out knees up with the combined might of the Flint Youth Philharmonia (Thomas's gang) and the older Flint Youth Symphony Orchestra (on which he has his eyes set). The conductor is some hot shot from Venezuela (which, as those with their fingers on the pulse of the classical music scene will know, is the current hotbed of talent thanks to Hugo Chavez's obvious ambition to recreate the Soviet Union) of whom Thomas just said that he had the coolest accent. The two groups practiced separately all year and only got to (a) meet the conductor and (b) each other for one 2 1/2 hour practice last week, so the effect is nothing short of miraculous.

[Yes, I know the video isn't here.  I spent an hour trying to upload it.  Now I'm tired.  I'll try again tomorrow.]