Isaiah 55: 6 - 7
Alright, I need to apologize:To my dear readers, I apologize for my lack of experience in blogging. I hope I didn't let many of you down. For the ones I did - let's take another shot @ this, but slower.
It is hard to write everyday! Including editing photos, wording the stories accurately, reliving the moments... no wonder blogging can be a profession.
:]
Daily won't be required, but stories are still pretty accurate. ;)
.....Friday, August 10th, 2012.
Today was the second day, and as Russian tradition would have it.....
We woke up late.
Breakfast was rushed. Poppy.
Food was delicious. Seed.
Leaving was not. Roll.
But good thing we ordered our days in halves*!
Meaning: (1 evening/night + 1 following morning/day) per city = afternoon driving + evening arrivals in new city
*exclusions: two days in two amazing cities ;)
So,
we were able
to breathe
Prague's airs
one more
time.
Before we could gawk at more architecture, there was a peculiar scenario on Karlov Mohst that turned the eye of many Disney-fanatics & Panama-hat wearers:
a man in his weaved hat & red vest
spinning the handle to his musical "box" cart
with a boy dancing his heart out,
among the dull crowd of gazers.
Even better, the boy was dancing with his plush best friend.
The happiest scene alive, not a care in the world, with music as his background.
And everyone was happy.
As legend has it (for my sister saw him 5 years ago), the musical man spends his retired days there, making people happy with is old-fashioned musical cart!
I feel like he's been in Disney movies before...
Anyway...
We visited the St. Vitus Cathedral once more, per my request.
I needed to embrace the gargoyle cousins of Quasimodo & the rusty sanctuary of old once more.
Don't you ever have a feeling to try soaking in as much of a place as possible, not knowing if you'd ever see it again?
At least, I did.
I hope you have those feelings, too.
They make memories juicy.
And at the same time, it feels like it never happened.
And guess what we found on they way back from St. Vitus?
A remote-controlled lawn-mower!
That's right folks: a 2-foot machine that squiggles across your lawn in a rotary fashion, snipping away to an even 1.5 (ish?) inch grass height.
Pretty cool ey?
So my father thought.
(insert: video of awe)
Also, during our roaming:
I saw for the first time (and probably last time) a gold Porshe. Ah! :]
Praha was by far the most colorful city I have ever visited, and hence... I was sad to arrive later that evening to a dreary, tan-gray Vienna (or more accurately, Wien).
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
These were three things that constantly amazed me in Europe:
1) the size of towns were dimes compared to our American suburb quarters.
2) chapels & cathedrals & churches were the center of attention always.
3) smoking is breathing.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And a few valuable lessons I learned on my second day:
1) it is my DESTINY to always have someone photo-bomb my pictures EVERYWHERE
2) "pozor" in Czech really means "warning"/"caution" in English, even if it sounds like "shame"/"disgrace" in Russian.
If you were Russian, you would read this signs like this:
SHAME!
How DISGRACEFUL of you, that bikers are in
the right lane of you!
Instead, it should be read to the Czech & everyone else:
Caution, bikers are in the right lane.
See the cultural issues I could have been having, had we not moved to America?
We wouldn't even know how to enjoy a vacation.
Moving on...
3) green lanterns exist. But beautiful, instead of creepy. Like at castle entrances.
4) for the drivers:
if you are driving through a city,
and a car going the opposite direction FLASHES their headlights at you,
it means ... there is a cop
on your way!
WOAH! + blink the emergency lights = "thank you"
and finally...
5) pork is a staple.
You know, my friends have told me it takes pork 2 weeks to leave your body.
Guess I was permanently Czech for a few months.
Now, every place served pork, and cheap (comparatively).
I've never known that such unclean swine must be served with such embellishment, and eaten with finer finesse.
The pork knee (budgeting goodness!) we ate (to celebrate our stay in Prague) was delicately slipped through an embellished spike, browned so perfectly, you would have thought it was Christmas dinner waiting for you.
And lo, it came with roasted white onions, the size of marbles.
And more lo, the waiter was Irish, working in Czech Republic, living in the country Georgia, recently from vacation to Vienna.
I mean... how bizarre is this situation?
Truly, a delicious experiment, nonetheless, and only finished with more fascination:
And so, we left, with full bellies and sad dreams to return to Praha again.
Of what would be next?
The highways between Praha & Wien: OH MY.
Lots of teeny-tiny towns scattered across the plains of Bohemia, with steeples stapled to the city centers, keeping the culture & town together by hymnal lyrics & religious deacons.
(Not to mention pubs & cafes, with cigarettes as floor decor nearly everywhere.)
But the further you go in, the better it gets? Mmm, maybe.
At least they played music in the city streets (literally, through the intercom-ish things!)
(But quick funny fact: I saw a city named "Velka Bites". :]
Those of you Rus-English people, it sounds like "the fork bites". hehe.)
And the hills are gorgeous, I got to tell you, but after a while, you only see the bland grayish/tanish road and speckles of cities glimmering in the distances.
Ah, but it did feel like Italian Job or The Bourne Ultimatum (or any action movie requiring cars) once we hit the big city streets through Austria, especially Wien.
Lights cascading at the tops of hills where the tunnel ends...
Swift-turn swerves forging into calm intersections of cheap cars waiting...
Mercedes, or even better, Austin Martins swishing past us in the dark alleyways as we try to understand where the GPS is taking us, while feeling ripped off, cuz we want THAT car...
(but we didn't break faith with our Fiat Panda. She was a trooper.)
It was a dream.
Until we reached the hotel.
Which was a sad dream.
It looked... ugh, plastered?
Fake?
Maybe counterfeit?
What if I had booked a room at a scam place, and we'd have to sleep in our yellow-angel Panda, parked on the side of the road, losing Euros because we didn't cancel in time, cuz we didn't know this place was fake??
But no, it wasn't a scam.
It just was a witty disguise for thieves not to rob a place that was beautiful inside.
[P.S. Many European places do that: outside = unattractive, inside = score decor]
The inside of our Vienna hotel was modern design.
NOTHING like my Father's or my style.
Green-padded Mackintosh-style chairs.
Glassy geometric chandeliers.
White.
White.
Black... ish.
I dunno. My favorite part was the Russian Vinni Pukh balloon painting that hung by registration.
It was kinda cute. :}
Our room.
061.
[Why put a zero there?? It still isn't a sig. fig.]
The room was hot.
And the A/C don't work.
And we can't open the window.
Why?
We're on the first floor, at the end, with window facing the sketchy parking lot, where 3 whispering men lurk in a huddle of cigarette smoke.
Mmm, we'll pass.
We're thankful for safety and 350 grams of deli-meat.
And so, midst the sticker orchids on the walls & the humid sniffs of cleaner, we dined eloquently in pajamas, sharing a tomato, 350 grams of deli-meat, and fluffy bread.
With Olympics on, of course.
We faired well, praise God. :)
Onto tomorrow's explorations!
Breakfast was rushed. Poppy.
Food was delicious. Seed.
Leaving was not. Roll.
But good thing we ordered our days in halves*!
Meaning: (1 evening/night + 1 following morning/day) per city = afternoon driving + evening arrivals in new city
*exclusions: two days in two amazing cities ;)
So,
we were able
to breathe
Prague's airs
one more
time.
Before we could gawk at more architecture, there was a peculiar scenario on Karlov Mohst that turned the eye of many Disney-fanatics & Panama-hat wearers:
a man in his weaved hat & red vest
spinning the handle to his musical "box" cart
with a boy dancing his heart out,
among the dull crowd of gazers.
Even better, the boy was dancing with his plush best friend.
And everyone was happy.
As legend has it (for my sister saw him 5 years ago), the musical man spends his retired days there, making people happy with is old-fashioned musical cart!
I feel like he's been in Disney movies before...
Anyway...
We visited the St. Vitus Cathedral once more, per my request.
I needed to embrace the gargoyle cousins of Quasimodo & the rusty sanctuary of old once more.Don't you ever have a feeling to try soaking in as much of a place as possible, not knowing if you'd ever see it again?
At least, I did.
I hope you have those feelings, too.
They make memories juicy.
And at the same time, it feels like it never happened.
And guess what we found on they way back from St. Vitus?
A remote-controlled lawn-mower!
That's right folks: a 2-foot machine that squiggles across your lawn in a rotary fashion, snipping away to an even 1.5 (ish?) inch grass height.
Pretty cool ey?
So my father thought.
(insert: video of awe)
I saw for the first time (and probably last time) a gold Porshe. Ah! :]
These were three things that constantly amazed me in Europe:
1) the size of towns were dimes compared to our American suburb quarters.
2) chapels & cathedrals & churches were the center of attention always.
3) smoking is breathing.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And a few valuable lessons I learned on my second day:
1) it is my DESTINY to always have someone photo-bomb my pictures EVERYWHERE
2) "pozor" in Czech really means "warning"/"caution" in English, even if it sounds like "shame"/"disgrace" in Russian.
If you were Russian, you would read this signs like this:
SHAME!
How DISGRACEFUL of you, that bikers are in
the right lane of you!
Instead, it should be read to the Czech & everyone else:
Caution, bikers are in the right lane.
See the cultural issues I could have been having, had we not moved to America?
We wouldn't even know how to enjoy a vacation.
Moving on...
3) green lanterns exist. But beautiful, instead of creepy. Like at castle entrances.
4) for the drivers:
if you are driving through a city,
and a car going the opposite direction FLASHES their headlights at you,
it means ... there is a cop
on your way!
WOAH! + blink the emergency lights = "thank you"
and finally...
5) pork is a staple.
You know, my friends have told me it takes pork 2 weeks to leave your body.
Guess I was permanently Czech for a few months.
Now, every place served pork, and cheap (comparatively).
I've never known that such unclean swine must be served with such embellishment, and eaten with finer finesse.
The pork knee (budgeting goodness!) we ate (to celebrate our stay in Prague) was delicately slipped through an embellished spike, browned so perfectly, you would have thought it was Christmas dinner waiting for you.
And lo, it came with roasted white onions, the size of marbles.
And more lo, the waiter was Irish, working in Czech Republic, living in the country Georgia, recently from vacation to Vienna.
I mean... how bizarre is this situation?
Truly, a delicious experiment, nonetheless, and only finished with more fascination:
a layered latte.
The best eating experience one could encounter in the Czech Republic.
And so, we left, with full bellies and sad dreams to return to Praha again.
Of what would be next?
The highways between Praha & Wien: OH MY.
Lots of teeny-tiny towns scattered across the plains of Bohemia, with steeples stapled to the city centers, keeping the culture & town together by hymnal lyrics & religious deacons.
(Not to mention pubs & cafes, with cigarettes as floor decor nearly everywhere.)
The ride on their autobahns was often like driving to Salem: something to see... somewhere.
I mean, maybe many of you would say, "But Angie, you're in Europe!
Embrace it!"
I know, I know... be thankful.
Alright, but seriously: some of the streets of Austria are crummy, okay.
At least they played music in the city streets (literally, through the intercom-ish things!)
(But quick funny fact: I saw a city named "Velka Bites". :]
Those of you Rus-English people, it sounds like "the fork bites". hehe.)
And the hills are gorgeous, I got to tell you, but after a while, you only see the bland grayish/tanish road and speckles of cities glimmering in the distances.
Ah, but it did feel like Italian Job or The Bourne Ultimatum (or any action movie requiring cars) once we hit the big city streets through Austria, especially Wien.
Lights cascading at the tops of hills where the tunnel ends...
Swift-turn swerves forging into calm intersections of cheap cars waiting...
Mercedes, or even better, Austin Martins swishing past us in the dark alleyways as we try to understand where the GPS is taking us, while feeling ripped off, cuz we want THAT car...
(but we didn't break faith with our Fiat Panda. She was a trooper.)
It was a dream.
Until we reached the hotel.
Which was a sad dream.
It looked... ugh, plastered?
Fake?
Maybe counterfeit?
What if I had booked a room at a scam place, and we'd have to sleep in our yellow-angel Panda, parked on the side of the road, losing Euros because we didn't cancel in time, cuz we didn't know this place was fake??
But no, it wasn't a scam.
It just was a witty disguise for thieves not to rob a place that was beautiful inside.
[P.S. Many European places do that: outside = unattractive, inside = score decor]
The inside of our Vienna hotel was modern design.
NOTHING like my Father's or my style.
Green-padded Mackintosh-style chairs.
Glassy geometric chandeliers.
White.
White.
Black... ish.
I dunno. My favorite part was the Russian Vinni Pukh balloon painting that hung by registration.
It was kinda cute. :}
Our room.
061.
[Why put a zero there?? It still isn't a sig. fig.]
The room was hot.
And the A/C don't work.
And we can't open the window.
Why?
We're on the first floor, at the end, with window facing the sketchy parking lot, where 3 whispering men lurk in a huddle of cigarette smoke.
Mmm, we'll pass.
We're thankful for safety and 350 grams of deli-meat.
And so, midst the sticker orchids on the walls & the humid sniffs of cleaner, we dined eloquently in pajamas, sharing a tomato, 350 grams of deli-meat, and fluffy bread.
With Olympics on, of course.
We faired well, praise God. :)
Onto tomorrow's explorations!
