Take my advice, unless you actually LIKE the idea of walking like a cowboy for the first few days of your holiday, avoid knocking hot tea all over your lap during your outward flight. My lack of hand-eye co-ordination in a confined space is a recipe for disaster. Luckily this turned out to be a minor blip during an otherwise extremely pleasant week that we spent in the Czech Republic.
We landed in Prague on Monday 20th June and, despite slightly blistered thighs, had a great three days there exploring the city. We rented an apartment right in the centre of town - an incredible location which seemed to be five minutes walk from just about everywhere you'd want to visit. If you stood on a footstool and craned your neck slightly you could just about catch a glimpse of the skew-whiff gravestones of the Jewish cemetery between the neighbouring roofs. Not quite 'a room with a view' but very nice all the same. You could lie in bed and listen to the horses hooves on the cobbles outside as they carted Japanese tourists around the many photo-opportunity spots of this beautiful city.
Prague was drenched in sun for the whole time we were there, which made it ideal for a bit of hanging-about on terraces. The 'interesting' approach to customer service (the first waiter to break a smile - around day three I think - got a big fat tip!) didn't spoil the experience too much. I've never seen so many tourists in one place as on Charles Bridge. I had visions of them all spilling over the edge, along with the odd juggler, 'comedy' portrait artist jewelry salesman.
On the Thursday morning we collected a hire-car and along with fellow intrepid travellers, Cobi and Maaike, drove South-East across the country towards Zjnomo, near to the Austrian border. I had downloaded about a hundred different maps and route-plans from the internet for this purpose (it seemed to be a daunting task to tackle in a country where all the road signs make absolutely no sense whatsoever). However, my sense of direction is about as bad as my hand-eye co-ordination so it was very lucky that Maaike happens to be a whiz with maps. She managed to direct us smoothly and efficiently towards our hotel before I even worked out which way up I should hold the map.
Zjnomo didn't know what had hit it. Suddenly there seemed to be more Dutch than Czech citizens wandering around town in the lead up to the weekend. Everyone was gathering to see our friends, Ton and Alice, get married.
On the evening we arrived we all assembled for a wine-tasting evening (or, more accurately, a wine-drinking evening, as there was absolutely no sloshing and spitting going on). By the time we'd reached the 8th or 9th glass someone started singing and the songs (Czech, Dutch, English, Swedish..?!) continued into the night.
Peter and I had a lovely visit to the outdoor pool on the Friday, although we both came back red and sore as boiled lobsters - we were not a pretty sight the next day, even when we covered our burnt bits with posh wedding clothes.
Nonetheless, the wedding was a really great day. There are worse ways of spending a Saturday, being wined and dined in a castle overlooking some spectacular scenery. Ton and Alice have more than their fair-share of musically gifted friends, who seemed to relish in the opportunity to provide us all with some fantastic live music. I tasted my first authentic Czech roasted pig, fresh from the spit (the only thing in the place more sunburned than me and P) and downed a few too many Slivovich shots to toast the happy couple.
Here's to Ton and Alice - thanks for a great day!
