Praha, Pivo, Prosim

As much as it sucks to have one, living on a budget is a bitch. If I could afford steak & crab legs & whiskey every night, believe me, I’d live it up big time. But, the pesky thing called reality bites us all in the ass and provides an anchor for which the budget-minded are required to subsist. That said, I thought I’d share some of my budget meals with my fellow budget-conscious cyber friends.

Everyone that knows me knows that I like to cook. For some the process of shopping, preparation, and the actual cooking is a tortuous concept. They just hate it. Hate everything about it. I’m not one of those people. Going to new and fancy grocery stores is something I like doing. I enjoy slowly cruising the aisles for good little edible treats. I enjoy mincing garlic and chopping onions and all that other stuff even if these things make my hands stinky or make me cry. I enjoy sauteeing random things in a pan and making sauces. It’s just fun. For me, it’s a good time.

Breakfast

A month or so ago I was craving some good American-style breakfast goodies. Other than Bohemia Bagel, it’s rather difficult (if not impossible) to find a place that serves hash browns, bacon (American style–and yes, there is a difference), bagels with cream cheese, omelettes, pancakes, etc. you get my point.

First, I love bacon. Yes, love it. There are really two camps when it comes to bacon: those from the school of ‘burn it’ and those from the school of ‘I’ll take it floppy and greasy, please.’ I am from the latter. Crispy burnt bacon, in my opinion, is a disservice to the bacon. Respect the meat. If it can disintegrate when picking it up, what’ the freaking point of that? The glorious streaks of fat in the bacon are what make it so damn good. Fat = flavor. Go ahead & deny it but it’s the truth. Any butcher will agree.

So, I really wanted some bacon on this particular day… I decided to go full out and make other stuff because I figure that if I want just one thing specifically and am required to go to the store to get it, why not go ahead and make all the other delicious breakfast accoutrements. Bread? Gotta have it. Carbs = life. I toasted up some fresh baked goodness and slapped cream cheese all over that bad boy. Huevos? Gotta have those, too. Scrambled with cheese. Check. Potatoes & onions? Ok, sounds good. Oh wait, let’s add some cherry tomatoes, too!

Lunch

I made some egg salad last week. I don’t eat egg salad regularly but I have to confess I think it’s great. Sometimes I’m pretty easy to please and egg salad is just one of those comfort food items that makes me a happy person. I don’t know about you but egg salad makes me think of picnics and the summer. You know what else makes me think of picnicking? Potato salad. Not being one who usually likes the cold side dishes associated with picnics, I felt a wild rash of potato love this morning and made some potato salad. This is an item that I had never made before but I quickly Googled a recipe and threw some things together. It actually worked and is quite tasty. It also helps that the potatoes were on sale at Albert. One kilo for 7.90Kc is pretty damn reasonable. When it’s on sale, you fucking buy it. It’s an unspoken rule to me.

Since I didn’t want to eat the potato salad by itself, I also made a grilled cheese for the side. Well ok, I’ll be fancy and call this a croque monsieur because I piled some ham on this baby. There is no cheddar in this country. Actually, all the cheeses I’ve seen have been of the light yellow variety. They love their Edam here. It’s everywhere. But, I sprung for some kind of local bleu cheese so my grilled cheese was a variant on the traditional.

Dinner

Unless you live under a rock or a terrorist regime, you’ve probably had a roast chicken in your life. Roast chicken is certainly one of my favorite foods to eat and prepare. Why? Roasting a chicken is super easy and almost impossible to destroy. Whole birds are usually reasonably priced as it requires YOU the purchaser to do the work of skinning and boning the meat.

So, how does one prepare a roast chicken? Here’s what I do and I’m basing this on using a whole chicken…

Preheat your oven to 350 or 375F

Wash your bird and pat dry

Make a delicious compound butter–I typically like minced garlic, salt & pepper, butter, lemon juice, lemon zest, thyme
(You’ll be putting the compound butter underneath and on the skin so make sure you are using an adequate quantity)

Rub the butter all over the bird and separate the skin from the meat using your fingers–this is easy to do but be careful not to pierce the skin as the mixture will of course melt and run out from under the skin

Put the bird in a roasting pan and just let that baby go!

60-75 minutes is usually ample time for the bird to cook through

How to test if a chicken is done? Pierce the meat around the leg and if the juices run clear, you’re good…. also if the legs wiggle freely, that’s a good indicator that the meat is cooked

Of course this can be done with smaller portions of meat (breast, thigh, etc.) but your cooking time will be quite a bit less as your quantity has been reduced

Another tip is to cook the meat on a bed of potatoes, onions, etc. (of course your choice) Depending on how much chicken you are using, you might want to alter when you put in the vegetables as they won’t all necessarily require the same cooking times

The vegetables will also absorb the delicious juices/butter mixture that slowly drips from the chicken so essentially, you will have a pan of damn good eats. Crack open a beer or a bottle of wine and enjoy your meal!

p.s. Good girls like me make leftovers!

Voila!

I imagined purchasing a ticket and subsequent return here would be a big hassle and a pain in the ass. To my surprise, there was no line and the ticket agent spoke English. Hooray for me & my dumbass monolingual self. Like most modes of transport here, I can report that the trains are efficient (aka on time) and really very nice. The car I was in had approx 12 other people so it made me feel like I spent a bit more than 1176Kc. I’m not suggesting that they were plush accommodations with a complimentary foot massage and bottle of Moet but it wasn’t a sub-standard Eastern European shitty railcar filled with stinky people. Quite nice so color me impressed.

 

RANT:  I was up at 530am and for some GD reason the Finn and his girlfriend (who I NEVER saw and she was here for a WEEK) were both up at the asscrack of dawn, too. That never happened. Dude usually likes to sleep. Anyway, as per his usual messy ass, he promptly went into the kitchen to prepare some vegan breakfast extravaganza that included a gross kind of paste from a tube. Here’s a question: Ok, so vegans and vegetarians don’t eat meat but they eat ‘meat substitutes’ and stuff that kind of ‘looks’ like meat…why? Isn’t the point of being a vegan/vegetarian the AVOIDANCE of meat so why bother with foods that give the meat illusion. Own your fucking status.  So anyway, he was toiling away with the toaster (as he always did) and cut up some vegetables and, of course, left them all sitting out on the counter with the cutting board, knife, loaf of sliced bread and crumbs all over the fucking counter and floor. Let’s hear three cheers for cleanliness. WTF. Good thing he hauled his ass back to Scandinavia. 

 

Profiling? Racist? Never. Here’s an interesting observation–or at least I found it to be…

 

At the last stop in the C.R., the Czech police stroll through the train just looking at people and I suppose checking random papers/passports. Nobody on my car was checked. Then, the overhead p.a. system throws out the ‘thank you’ announcement and the train crew switches over to a German one. Once in Germany, the German police stroll through the cars going through the same process. Again, they walk right past me and everyone else. No wait, they randomly ask for the paper of the Indian family sitting a few rows back. Racial profiling? You decide. Good thing they didn’t find the 4 kilos of hash & heroin packed away in my laptop. 

 

I arrived in Dresden at 11 with 2.5 hrs to kill. What to do, what to do? As it turns out the Czech Consulate is super close to the Dresden-Neustadt station  so that was no problem.  The Brits bombed the shit out of Dresden in WWII. But, in recent years apparently many landmarks have been refurbished/reconstructed so Dresden is really nice. I walked around a bit and was a total tourist. 

 

Consulate appointment at 1:30. There was an American college student trying to get a visa and I thought she was going to have some kind of mental breakdown. Apparently she didn’t have the right insurance papers and I was really sure the girl was going to flip the fuck out. Why? Not only did she not have the right papers but also if she did, they would be in English and since the foreign police are the ones who accept/deny/process your papers, the stuff needs to be in (big surprise!) Czech. She begged for permission to use a fax and the very patient woman behind the counter at the Consulate had to explain multiple times (and quite nicely) that it wouldn’t matter if she got a fax because of the ENGLISH on the document. Anyway, this dumbass girl went on her merry way and probably cried her way back to the train station. 

 

 The interview. First, the Consulate official asked the other people to leave the room as the interview was ‘private.’ There was a series of questions but none of these were terribly personal. She didn’t ask when I had my last period nor did she ask what color underwear I was wearing. Alas, the interview was over shortly and I GOT MY STAMP which is what I came to do. Of course, I’m still not here 100% legally but at least I am permitted to stay longer than the alotted 90-day run from my initial Schengen entry date. The Czech foreign police have 90 to 120 days to approve or deny my visa application so I’ll be here (at least) for a little while longer.

 

The train back to Prague was better than the first. All the cars on the return run were private (6 seater) compartments only. These are the ones you see in the movies. I didn’t even pay for an actual ’seat’ on either leg of the journey but this train was rather empty as was the dining car. The dining car was nice. Real nice. I promptly headed to the dining car and to my dismay there was no Capt. Steubing or ‘Julie Your Cruise Director’ waiting for me at a big table. But then I remembered that I wasn’t on the fucking Love Boat. Damn. Oh well, at least they served beer. Glorious beer. I love you. 

 

 

 

           

 

            

 

      

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Blog, 

I haven’t forgotten about you but I’ve been a bit busy this week. I will post some details about the ‘Dresden Run’ and some photos later today or tomorrow. I promise we are still BFFs.

 All my love,

Andrea

 

I went back to the SAPA market yesterday and ate some lunch that I still have no idea about the meat within the dish. That is, what it was or could have been. I suppose it could have been dog but let’s hope not. On normal circumstances, I don’t usually allow my mind to wander to such culturally different options but considering the odor and smell of what I ate, I’m not entirely sure there wasn’t a domesticated house pet in my lunch. My fear of being taken to the back somewhere and beaten by small Asian men prohibited me from snapping a quick pic of said meal.

I can’t even quite recollect what the dish was called so I’ll do my best to describe what it was. In appearance alone, it looked like Pho. A big steaming bowl of golden broth with noodles and ‘meat’ as well as a plate of herbs & things to mix in at my leisure. Of course, as per usual there were the condiments of Sriacha, hot chilis/oil and some hot garlic as well that was in a jar next to the other condiments. I also ordered a beer (25Kc) and it arrived unopened. The waiter brought me a glass afterwards as well as a bottle opener. The work was to be done by me I suppose. The food arrived in less than 5 minutes which was bonus. I like that. I was fully prepared to fiddle with my iCal on the iPod but alas, my plans of killing time were dashed by quick food arrival. The bowl of steaming ingredients had an odd odor. The ‘meat’ was all fried and doing the backstroke across the top of the piping hot liquid. Even 24 hours later, I’m still not sure on the meat part. At first I thought it was pork and then I thought it was fish. I know, one has hooves while the other has fins. Actually, I think ‘it’ was a mix of both but the ‘kind’ of fish it may have been was a mystery. All the little food markets at SAPA have tanks outside with barely fish (catfish, carp, not sure?). So, by using my powers of deduction, I’ll say that the fish was from one of those establishments. My lunch actually tasted better than it smelled which I think is perhaps a bit odd. Smells and tastes are usually associated with each other and one can usually ascertain a taste by how something smells.

The end result? Well, I’m not dead which is a bonus. And if it was dog, cat, or hamster, it was consumed. You make the call.

I’m headed to Dresden, Germany, in the morning. For those unfamiliar, I suggest you Google the Schengen Zone. As a current Schengen resident, I get to do all kinds of fun bullshitty stuff associated with making me ‘legal’ here. Although the process had already begun, I get to do a quickie day trip to the Czech consulate tomorrow to submit my visa application. If all goes according to plan, and this government decides not to evict me, I get to go back to Dresden at a later date and pick up my approved visa. Then…. I get to hit up the Foreign Police and ‘activate’ my visa. This is all AFTER I’ve obtained a zivnostensky list (trade license). The z-list (as they are abbreviated here) was only acquired following the acquisition of a notarized criminal record check, a signed affidavit from my landlord permitting me to set up ‘business’ at this address and also an additional document from the building owner. Hooray for diplomacy and bureaucratic redtape. Goody goody gumdrops!

Perhaps I’ll blog again from the train to Dresden. Photos and videos of my journey to Deutschland to come at a later date.

Here’s just something that cracked me up. I saw a link for a foam creation light fixture. Yes, really. Anyway, some guy made the following light fixture from foam pieces that are shipped with Apple computers. In the actual instructions, he mentioned that he used low-wattage bulbs so I supposed that reduces/eliminates the pesky worry of safety and fire. Anyway, when I was looking at the pic of the fixture in the office, I noticed that the office has some of the most hilarious framed ‘art’ I’ve seen. I love it and I want to work there. Where can I buy these?

**Oh also, I went to the Prague Zombie Walk on Saturday. In short, a very cool event. Lots of blood, and moaning through the Old Town area. Good times. Stay tuned.

The Beer Gods

In Czech, when a sign reads AKCE, you should follow said sign. My Czech vocabulary is limited but this is a good thing. I’ll explain why.

There is a beer God and he exists in the form of 3.90Kc per beer. Yes, we have a winner! Bargain! While the currency exchange rate fluctuates, I keep a standard 20Kc per 1USD in my head when I’m doing the conversion. So, if you include a 3Kc/bottle return rate, the beer is 7.90Kc each. That said, there is no unit of currency here smaller than 1Kc so when anything is listed as say X.90 or X.50Kc, the store (or the magic money Gods) keeps the difference. I can’t figure why stuff just isn’t listed at whole Kc units. Rounding up the amount is the only way to go. Moral of the story? A half liter of Czech-made brew for 8Kc each. See, I bought six!

Branik isn’t the best beer by any stretch. But, it’s certainly not the Czech equivalent to Milwaukee’s Best and it’s far from being as catastrophic as hexavalent chromium. (Was that reference too vague?) Alas, when the beer is practically FREE and the store wants you just to take it off their premises, you must do your duty as a human and bring the stuff home, chill it and then bask in the bubbly golden glory that is pivo.

Here’s something about the beer here that I don’t think I’ve mentioned….beer is on draft here. It’s everywhere. That’s a given. However, when the guy is pulling your beer from the tap (or tank–but I’ll cover that in a later post), he does something wonderful and magical. All the beer here (best to the worst included) is served with a thick foamy head. No, this isn’t like the head you get off a beer from a bottle and certainly not like the head you get off a US domestic draft. This is different. Other than actually seeing it for yourself, I can say the apparent difference is immediate. This famed foamy head that rests atop your beverage does not dissipate quickly nor acquiesces quietly into submission. No, this stuff lingers. Of course, the more you consume your beverage, the head will decrease but little foamy bubble rings will slowly creep down the sides of your glass as the amber hued nectar backstrokes through your digestive system, becomes incorporated and welcomed friend into your evening and more importantly, incorporates into your soul.

Flea Markets

If you haven’t been to one, go find one. Flea markets are great people watching locations as well as being hubs of activity for the dirty, the unwashed, the perverted, and for many varieties of the species known as mullet. That said, there really isn’t much difference between American flea markets and the flea market at Kolbenova. I’m calling it that because I don’t know the real name; it’s across the street from the Kolbenova metro stop so thus my assumption. I have a 90-day metro/tram pass that permits me to go anywhere and since I’m on a rather ’shoestring’ budget, I figured I’d go maximize what I can do for the least amount of money. (Plus, this allowed me to work in my new nerdy hobby of metro/tram/bus riding. Yes, I know, it sounds like an activity for an indigent individual who just wants a quick thaw from a cold and blustery winter evening.)

There is an entrance fee to the flea market at Kolbenova. Twenty Kc isn’t ridiculous but I was expecting the place to be free. First off, I’ll say that the flea market is located in/around/behind a worn-down industrial swath of buildings. Well, its basically a big parking lot behind some shithole asbestos landmines.

Upon entry, there is an immediate food and beer vendor. Nice. But then the place opens up. This dusty parking lot is huge. Vendors set up their wares either on blankets on the ground or on tables or even on the hoods of their cars. There was actually quite a lot of stuff I wasn’t expecting to see there: washing machines, refrigerators, satellite dishes, windshields and bumpers, bras, guns, and super cheap porn. I almost considered buying some cheap Eastern European amateur porn just so I could mark the stuff up 3,000% and sell it on EBay. I could make a killing. And to clarify…how cheap is ’super cheap’ porn? Well, is 20Kc cheap enough for you? That’s less than 3 of the cheapie Braniks from Albert.

Aside from the flesh and ammo peddlers, there was also a fair amount of stuff that looked like it was scavenged right from the the attic of a dead of Czech lady. In fact, I think her crusty, rotting, and partly dessicated heart still beats the heartbeat of Communism. From her Communist regime decorated home, the vendors scavenged and fought their way to plenty of Cold War era boots and helmets to make available for purchase. The most interesting thing I saw at the flea market was actually a collection of old (and rather artistic) post cards. Some had been written on and posted and some were still blank. Most had scenes of a tranquil Czechoslovakian countryside while others were from local pubs and miscellaneous points of interest. This was another mental note I made that if I bought this stuff, I could totally sell it on EBay. There is always something oddly personal and fascinating about not only reading someone else’s mail but also getting a unique perspective of history. I don’t know, maybe it could be called a written snapshot. A moment frozen in time now available for sale for only 100Kc!

Although I mentioned that the flea market is quite large (which it is), a few of these were snapped in the ‘empty’ part of the lot so it appears more bleak than reality.

Flatmate Rant

One of my flatmates is incapable of doing his dishes. I understand he is from a foreign county as am I, however, in my native language there is a little word called CLEANING. I’m fairly sure it has a linguistic counterpart in every and all parts of the world. However, somehow I think the Finnish version of this word was not taught to my flatmate. I do his dishes everyday. Not a joke. The fact that he’s a vegan is cool with me but he makes some real funky vegan food. For example… for a while he was concocting some stuff and putting it in a plastic container in the fridge. It is/was a warm yellow (I’ll call Yukon Gold potato yellow) paste-like substance but it was not potatoes. I peeled the lid back once and I couldn’t determine what the fuck it was or could possibly have been. The vegan diet eliminates any and all animal meats and animal derived products so I’m at a loss to how he prepared this stuff and/or consumed it with glee and fervor. So anyway, he (to be named later) likes to cook pasta and tofu and sauce. He does this a lot. A couple times a week, actually. But, I think something happens to him physiologically when he’s stirring the pasta in the pot as his arms are rendered useless. What? ‘That doesn’t make sense,’ is what you are thinking. Well to my expertly trained eye, I gather that the excited motions of constant stirring send his muscles into a post-stirring shock. His arms lock up and dangerous chemicals are released into his bloodstream. He is only barely able to finish the intensive process by plating his meal and leaving the dishes for the god damn dish gnome (me!) to wash. Oh glorious day! I love it when I get to wash the dishes of a grown ass man that I haven’t even seen naked.

So, I came home the other day and as per usual, there were dirty dishes to be cleaned. Oh joy. (Now wait, you might be thinking I’m some kind of neurotic germ-o-phobe or just a super anal bitch. I can certainly be bitchy but I’m by no means anal. I do, however, have (and know) the concept of what it is to live with others. I have also lived alone and I am aware that I have to do my OWN cleaning. Why? Because unless you live with your Mother, nobody else is going to do it for you. And before you tell me what an idiot I am for doing his dishes, I should tell you that the supplies in this flat at LIMITED. There isn’t enough to go around for multiple meals so if you want to use a piece of cookware or a plate, it has to be clean to use it. We ain’t go no backups, yo.) Back to my story…. I came home the other day and as per usual there were dirty dishes on the stove and in the sink. Great, awesome, fun, I love this job! My flatmate was gone but he left his creation sitting in a container (no lid) on the counter. I don’t think he did this inadvertently, he just doesn’t give a shit. The ketchup was also mysteriously out on the counter. I hadn’t used it that day and the 3rd flatmate is out of the country so by my amazing skills of deduction, I knew that HE was the guilty party. My conclusion was that this guy squeezed a big mound of generic Euro ketchup upon his vegan pasta nightmare. Dude that’s not vegan, that’s just gross. He usually uses bottled pasta sauce and he loves to keep the jars. Keep the jars everywhere, I mean. Most of Europe is recycle friendly but HE just lets these jars pile up all over. He doesn’t DO anything with them just like he doesn’t DO anything with the pile up of empty wine bottles. (Note: I finally threw the wine bottles away last week because I was tired of looking at them.) On another note, he also likes to leave out random half eaten vegetables. For example, there is a sliced lemon on a plate that has been sitting out for 3 days. But, with greater frequency there is usually either a tomato, cucumber, or a random pepper sitting out waiting for bugs to spread their diseased legs on for which to spew forth their vile offspring.

Aside from his genetic predisposition at being incapable of cleaning (maybe it’s an allergy? his body is rejecting the geographic relocation away from his Nordic homeland?), he also contributes nothing to this flat. No wait, sorry, he pays rent. Now of course I’m not expecting some kumbaya circle-of-friends dynamic and hand-holding and for us to all be the best of friends. However, it would be nice if a) he bought some fucking toilet paper b) bought some soap c) thanked me for doing A and B. Ok, I realize the buying soap might be a stretch because then that would be an admission that he knew what it was for….WASHING THE DISHES. Smart move on his part? Perhaps.

Count the jars. There are more unseen. They’re like ghosts.

Also, please note the random tomato and pepper. The pepper was only in the refrigerator because I put it there. True story.

OK, end rant.

Nerd Hobby

Going back to the random fun hobby I have of riding the metro/tram/bus….I took a journey to the SW part of town on Friday. I like to check out mapy.cz and find someplace with an old building or church and figure out the directions and go from there. Anyway, seeing this car cracked me up so ladies, if you are available, call Jaroslav!!

Food Budget

That shoestring budget I mentioned earlier? If you look for and purchase the right things here, groceries can actually be relatively inexpensive. Namely, potatoes, onions, and pork are super cheap and you can easily buy a fair amount of all three for a total less than 5USD. This is good for me as thankfully, I love some roasted potatoes and onions and well, according to Anthony Bourdain, porky goodness is just that. Tonight, I bought some random red curry paste (with the English directions conveniently covered over with a sticker), vegetables and rice. Cheap veggies and rice combinations can make your food dollar really stretch. One doesn’t have to be a coupon-cuttin’ Momma to know how to make the most of your food dollar. Ok, so I had a bag of frozen peas and frozen cauliflower. Both delicious and nutritious. The refrigerator in this flat is half-sized. Boo, I know. But, due to the size of this horribly small freezer, I was trying to maximize what little space there is by consolidating said vegetables. BRAINSTORM! ‘I’ll just marry the contents of the bags–it will save space! I’m a genius!’ Ah well, therein was my problem. Because I decided to marry the peas into the cauliflower rather than vice versa, I had a rather comical moment. And also, because the openings on the bags were both too small, this compounded the issue. Let’s just say that the sound of PLINK PLINK PLINK echoed throughout the kitchen as the little green balls from hell went everywhere. I think perhaps the top of the cabinets and the walls were the only surfaces unscathed by pea madness ‘09. These little frolicking bastards even got INSIDE the refrigerator. Jumpy little fuckers. Good times.

Just a quick post as I’m sitting in the Glossa teacher’s room but I have some time to kill and I have yet a few more random things on my desktop that I’ve saved just for the sole purpose of mentioning here.

While skimming Prague.tv the other day, I found this.

Good to know they just require someone who is pleasant and sane. Do people want the crazy? Why yes, yes they do.

I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever seen the word facesitting in print before. First time for everything, I guess.

On another note, I love eggs. That’s a completely random statement and has nothing to do with anything but it still doesn’t change the fact that I do enjoy my eggs. Not unlike Bubba Blue and his love of shrimp and all ways they can be prepared, the huevos are tasty treats. A few of the ways I enjoy eating them include: poached, scrambled, in quiche, omelette, egg salad, hard boiled…eggs are also most excellent when making mayonnaise, bearnaise and how could I forget ICE CREAM? Ice cream is one of the greatest things ever made on this planet. There is no discussion on that point. I could like ice cream off some really dirty things. Yes, that was meant to be naughty.

But that said, I think someone/something might like eggs more than I do. In fact, I’ll go ahead and say they love eggs to a degree that I can’t even contemplate. They made a song about it. It’s strange, funny, cute and bizarre–not a typical combination but it might make you want to go fix an egg sandwich.

Speaking of sandwiches, I was a bit creative with some eggs a few days ago. 

No, that’s not your typical sunny side up egg.Let’s look closer.

Why yes, that’s an egg on TOP of a grilled cheese sandwich. I’m a genius. I have to say the toast + gooey cheese + runny yolk combo is a nice treat. Anything with melty goodness is alright by me.

In the Czech Republic the first of May is a big holiday. Schools and offices are closed and everyone gets to enjoy a day off. Also, it’s a day when Czechs are quite amorous and expressive of their love and libidos. You see, the first day of May is also kind of the Czech version of our Valentine’s Day. According to tradition, you must kiss your lover under a blossoming cherry tree on May first and you will be granted love/luck/prosperity. Frankly, I’m not quite sure if all three of those are true but you get my point. So, a bunch of us headed up the Ujezd funicular to the Petrin where there is a nice park and plenty of cherry trees.

Petrin has a big observation tower that looks quite like the Eiffel Tower. As a whole though, the locale in its entirety is called Petrin Hill (as Prague is a city of hills) so there are great views of the city from there. I cannot confirm this as yesterday was my first trek to Petrin and my ass wasn’t about to hoof it up the tower. I’ll certainly do it another time but I had already walked enough this week and I just wasn’t in the mood to wait in line and get all sweaty when my priorities were elsewhere. Where else could my priorities have been? Ah well, one of the political parties here sponsored some kind of even at Petrin and thusly sold beer and klobasa (I supppose it’s like a Kielbasa–just a big damn sausage that is served with thick sliced Czech bread and spicy mustard). There were also miscellaneous treats for kids (cookies, marzipan confections, etc.) as well as a few of those stupid bouncy-type rooms where kids can toss their lunch onto a plastic vibrating surface. But, going back to the beer and klobasa thing…this was by far the cheapest beer I’ve experienced in this country. The sausage and beer were only 10Kc each. Yeah, EACH. That’s about fifty cents. They WANT you to drink it. It’s an offense to the beer Gods if you do not do so.

So, going back to the Czech day of love and romance and all things sex. I actually really like the idea of kissing your lover under a tree and somehow it guaranteeing continued love and happiness. However, the skeptic in me realizes that’s just a silly tradition but at least it gives people a way to make out as much as possible. That said, Czechs are very open with affection. Much more so than anyone would ever be in the US. Sure, there’s the occasional kiss and hand holding but nothing to the degree that I’ve seen here. There are more than enough make-out sessions on the metros and trams. But they don’t stop on public transport, these folks will be kissy and grabby in most places. Similarly, this openness to sex and love is part of the Czech culture; this behavior is not unique to May first. As I mentioned in a previous blog post, this is a rather sexually liberated country and they have little issue with sexuality, discussions of sex, prostitution, or pornography. So, knowing this, I was fully expecting a flat-out park sex incident yesterday at Petrin. Color me disappointed when all we saw was a bit of spooning and a guy engaged in some kind of yoga/stretchy thing. In fact, the afternoon was low-key which was quite the opposite of what I was expecting. I suppose I was likening it to the ‘if you can shoot up on the sidewalk and not get arrested’ scenario, then why can’t you copulate with your burly hairy backed man lover in the park?

I uploaded some random videos I’ve snapped with my cheap point & shoot over the past few months. Enjoy. Note: they are out of sequence and I didn’t bother to edit them or make them more interesting via iMovie.

On a final note, today is Derby Day and I’m missing it. Something tells me though that my friends back in Kentucky will be having great time!