Returned from a vacation in Prague. It’s a beautiful city with one helluva history. Dvořák! Kafka! Communism! Jews! Riots! Fires! The word ‘robot’ was coined here. How cool is that?
There are many anecdotes and ideas I’d like to share with you via the medium of these electronic pages, dear reader, but they’ll have to wait a little while until I’ve become reaccustomed to being back in Old Blighty. In the meantime, here are a few photographs from the trip. (Do check them out, faithful reader – I just invested in a one-year Flikr membership, for goodness sake).
Last year, I had the pleasure of attending Edinburgh’s Beltane festival. Somehow, amid the drums and the fire and the nudity, I managed to catch a slight reflection of my white, unshaved self: an aparition I found oddly sobering. The mere glimpse of the same old face I inspect each morning in the bathroom mirror caused me to remember that there was an outside world to worry about and to ultimately go back to. A similar thing happened a few times in Prague: I’d suddenly hear a snatch of English accent amid the rumble of Czeck and find myself reminded of the elastic rope connecting me to Britain, always allowing for infrequent departure but never failing to demand a speedy return trip. Usually, the English tourists were engaged in utterly benall conversation. One guy was saying to another “So she fucking glanced at you – big deal” and a middleaged woman was saying to her husband “I don’t know how to get there, Benjamin, stop asking me”. Bleh. This trip has far from quenched by thirst for travel and if anything has made me hungry for a greater number of prolongued soujournes. I facny next time, a location “off the beaten track” will be enjoyed so that the English lingo and the Suvaneer shops might be avoided. In the British Airways inflight magazine, John Simpson recomends Sudan! Also: Messner Mountain Museum looks wowie.