Hello boys and girls, greetings from Prague!
We are comfortably squatting in a sweet little flat belonging to our friend Petr. We have our own room and have been keeping ourselves pretty busy here in the mysterious lands of the Czech Republic.
Before we delve further into details about our favorite little Slavic country, let's shove out some stories from our dearly departed Deutschland!
So the last you heard from us, we were about to switch to a hostel next door called Wombats, a highly recommended and top rated facility. A nice refreshing change from the hostel that appearred to be infested with nothing but 17 year old American girls who spent 3 hours in front of the shared bathroom mirror, blowdrying their hair and giving makeup feed back such as, "Oh yeah. That makes you look
really mature." We also encountered a massive amount of insensitive guys, who would turn on our lights at 2 am while we were sleeping, meanwhile talking full volume, even though they weren't even occupying our room.
Anyway, so Wombats. We check into the hostel, which is very very nice, very offbeat, and very "cool". There are all sorts of odd jokes on the wall, and the personel were all very personable and funny. The room, of course, was clean, and nice, and shared with a couple of girls who were great! Their names were Evalina, who had a Polish accent but lived in Pennsylvania, and Stephanie, who was from Texas and was a Biochem major. They were so sweet,and Tina and I bonded with them right away. Our other roomates, however, were not at as agreeable.
Our first night in Wombats we had returned for the evening at about 1:30 am, were very tired, and I was very headachey and grumpy. So I take a shower, while Tina goes to sleep listening to music, and afterwards I sat down and begin to organize my then overwhelming backpack (I have since decided to ship a bunch of stuff home, freeing up a huge amount of space and hopefully resulting in much more comfortable travel days, when we spend 6-12 hours with those suckers at a time) When someone walks in the front door. It's a young guy with buzzed, shaved hair, a stocky frame and baggy clothes. I look over, and say, brightly, "Hello!" Meanwhile flashing a smile I was quite proud of. His response? A blank, unaware stare, and a quick dash for the bathroom, where he immediately closed the door. I hear his gruff voice, ask rudely, "Where's the light?" I respond flatly, "It's outside the door." He pees, and leaves the room immediately.
I was pretty angry, and so climbed up to the top of our whining wood bunkbed, and began to read the final pages of
Monkeyluv by Robert Sapolsky (a verrrry good read). A half hour later they both walk in, my stocky man spilling about 20 coins all over the floor, yelling out the eff word, and going straight into the bathroom to throwup. His companion climbed to the top of the squeaky top bunk and slept right away. I went to sleep.
Later on we found out that Sleepy Bear woke up in the middle of the night, walked over to the window in between Tina and Stephanie's bed, proceeded to urinate on the ground, fart, and walk back to bed. I woke up barely to hear his flatulence and vaguely recognize the sound of running water, but was too sleepy to figure out what was going on.
We left them a note the following day:
Hey,
Either use the toilet to pee in, or get an adult diaper.
Sincerely,
The four other people you share a room with.
Munich itself was really enjoyable though. We did go to Dachau, which I know Steve and Erin were opposed to, but found the experience enlightening and important. Our tour guide was a thin, smart American named Eric, and I think we made the right choice by going.
Later on that day we tried to mellow out and cheer up by going on that Ghost tour.
That was a fun experience.
Tina here. So, Devsky and I are a little bummed, how you say...introspective after the Dachau tour. We got to enjoy a nice, quiet meal at this really fun bakery near the Glockenspiel. We still had a little time before the ghost tour began. We decided to read our books by a fountain facing another beautiful clocktower in the middle of Marienplatz. I remember the sky was a really beautiful, creamy yellow and the moon was visable up in the sky. When it was time to meet for the tour we glance over at the meeting place. Suddenly, I shriek, "Devra, I think I see our tour guide." Low, and behold, here was a figure, cloaked in a black robe yielding a long, formidable sycthe...with a blade and EVERYTHING!!!!
Hesitantly, reluctantly, we made our way over to the column and said hello. Firstly, he flashed a smile revealing his less than mediocre teeth. Also, he was very bad looking...long, greasy hair, a chubby frame...I'd go as far to say that he looked like a larger, tubbier Toby Jones.
We were accompanied by only one other person from the tour. Some jocked-out bro from Conneticut.
The tour began. When he began to speak, we found out that he DID NOT speak the best English. I personally found this to add a great amount of pizzaz to the tour. Devra, while she found it endearing, mentioned that it sort of took about from the mystery of the stories (which I have to agree with).
If you want to hear some good stories about Munchen, ask us. We have plenty.
After the tour, we went to a Beir Garten called Augustiner. There, we joyfully shared two soft pretzels with sweet/spicy mustard and a Dunkel Beer.
Working there, was a VERY strange employee, possibly Italian, possibly a heroine addict. Devra and I laughed so hard at him, we had to leave.
The next morning we went on a "Third Reich Tour". Then checked out of Wombats and took a 7 hour train ride to Prague. There, Petr met us and brought us back to his adorable place.
To keep it short and simple, Devsky and I went to the Jewish quarter, visited some synogogues, ate some panini, hung out with Petr who's really sick with a cold (which I sort of have as well), got some mosquito bites, giggled,went to bed.
Good times.
We're tired of blogging.
Over and out!
