Making friends with castle guards, transit police, and John Lenon

2/19/2010-- Prague, Czech Republic
Within my first 30 minutes in Prague, I felt like a boss tycoon. Exchanging euro for crown may or may not have been one of the more empowering fiscal transactions I have ever participated in. Walking away with thousands in your wallet puts a definite spring into one's step. My trip to Prague I quickly learned was a trip of what I had foolishly assumed to be exaggerations turned truths. For example: I did not actually believe (halfway for self-preservation) that our bus ride would ACTUALLY be 12 hours long, or that it would ACTUALLY be a high of 15 degrees our first day. Or, that a city could actually be this phenomenal. We participated in a walking tour the first day that hit all the highlights: the Charles bridge, Prague Castle (where we took great pleasure in posing with the castle guards as we caressed their muscles and pretended to kiss their cheeks in order to illicit the slightest smile to escape there usual stony gaze)Lenon wall (my personal favorite), the Jewish Quarter and ended in an Americanized bakery that boasted a plethora of bagels and other delicacies that we have been fiending for. My poison of choice was chili and carrot cake with iced tea, which could not have tasted better. The only tiny (and also unexpected, presumably exaggerated) speed bump we encountered was the Czech Transit Police. After our entry into the subway terminal, we were stopped by a very official (and angry) looking guard who proceeded to explain to us (naive americans)that there was no terminal with which to purchase tickets to the subway and by entering the building some odd 50 feet before, we had violated some super scary Czech law that now facilitated us coughing up 700 crown to ride the subway ONE STOP. This ticket would have regularly cost us under 1 euro. Had we not been compliant with his demands he was quick to point out his slick i-phone was at the ready to phone for backup and send us to the big house. Spending a night in Czech jail is about on par for me with listening to the Beegees everyday for the rest of my life, so we took all necessary measures to avoid this wee little snafu. All in all, lessons learned, advice headed, we returned to Florence up a great many stories and more seasoned travelers than before we departed on our Eastern European adventure. Proust!