Far Between Eastern Europe Part 3.1: Prague and Recreation

Although, as you’re reading part three of this travel blog, you may expect some kind of order, I cannot guarantee the linear nor the chronological. In fact, we are returning to the beginning, before the chaos of a vineyard trespass was a twinkle in my eye, when the belief that being within was an utter acceptance of being without. Sam and I arranged accommodation and transport for our travels, and I let fate convince me that the basic aspects of travelling would go without challenge. All the history that was contained in galleries, museums, monuments and food would all spill out onto our crooked, ant backs, or we would stand for a moment and move on.

Prague was our first stop after a short flight from Stansted and an even shorter (and far cheaper) taxi to the accommodation. We prepaid for a twin bedroom at a hostel in Zizkov which had its own sink and was a short walk into the city centre. Zizkov was a lively area, dotted with bohemian bars and clubs, lit with discreet neon arrows pointing past ajar doors and down stone steps. Signposts and banners spelled out somewhat familiar names, words and shapes, along with some egregious use of trademarked characters because fuck Disney (and kudos to Lego Doctor Octopus). Despite returning here to traverse the streets with tipsy conversations after active days of reading, writing, drawing and sightseeing, this evening—our first evening—had no intention of anymore than settling into the comfort of our own space and switching off for a refreshing sleep. Therefore, we arrived at the hostel, waved off the taxi driver, and I pulled out my phone to find the code for the door. I typed on some worn buzzer digits, and we laughed about how likely we could’ve guessed the combination by the most battered numbers. On entry, we were met with two young girls perched in an alcove on the tiled floor and an older gentleman spread out on a wicker bench in the dim light at the end of the hall. He had a laptop open and what looked like a paper register beside him, so we wandered past the girls and stood in front of the unconventional reception.

‘Hello?’ I smiled at the gentleman and lingered over his laptop, scanning the papers on the table in front of him for our names.

The man said nothing, and the more we waited, the more I noticed the little details in his clothing which suggested that he was perhaps as disconnected from the hostel as I was. His trousers were frayed at their hems, his beard was adorned with breadcrumbs and damp patches, and his woollen hat was far from formal.

‘Is there a reception?’ I questioned further.

He looked over his shoulder at the door labelled “RECEPTION” and shook his head. His movement seemed to disperse a smell I could seldom place my finger on but was somewhere between fish and wine.

‘Is there a number I could call?’

The man stared at me, nibbling on the dry skin of his bottom lip as if he’d mistaken it for a stray piece of food from his beard. Then he reached down into his rucksack that lay splayed on the floor, routed through its contents, and pulled out a short, sharp-looking knife and placed it on the piece of paper I had once thought was a register but now disregarded as something he had found on the table and not bothered to move. I took a step back and ushered Sam behind me, looking over at the two girls to see if they were paying enough attention to stand witness. Their eyes were glued to the light of their phones like plants in the shade and would only know what was yet to happen when the contents of my arteries sprayed across their petals. The man reached into his bag again, rummaging around quickly now, and I urged Sam towards the door, following closely behind. When I turned back around, the man had pulled out an apple and had begun peeling it in his hand with the blade.

‘Closed,’ one of the girls blurted from over the top of her phone.

‘Thank you.’ I nodded and took out my own device to find a hotel for the night.

After a brief conversation with a nearby establishment, I had reserved a double room that was a 20-minute walk from where we were. With a low running battery and maps on my phone, I led us across the Zizkov streets and into a shortcut through Riegrovy Sady park. Although known for its scenic vantage point over the old town, we could see very little past the LEDs of my phone screen or further than the cobbled paths beneath our feet. In stark contrast with the rickety bustle of trams in the city we’d passed only an hour prior, the remaining whispers of activity encouraged us towards the large hill in the centre. Despite the continued lack of streetlights, when we found ourselves at the hill, it was dotted with burning cigarettes like the stars that weren’t visible above a proud city. It was at this point that my phone decided we’d had enough visibility for its battery to be necessary, and we were left stranded amongst the Czech locals, conjuring up the courage to ask for directions.

Before we’d had the chance to decide on the victim who would be guilted into guiding us, the Czech accent of a woman speaking English beckoned us over. My friend and I looked at each other, unable to distinguish precisely whether it was us they were talking to or where the voice was coming from.

‘Hey!’ A slightly gruffer-sounding woman joined in, followed by a giggle from the first.

I glanced over at the other side of the path to see two women stretched out on a park bench with a bottle of wine each. We waltzed over to them with caution and introduced ourselves, detailing that we had arrived late to a hostel and therefore couldn’t get a key.

‘Sit,’ the first woman directed us. ‘Drink.’ She passed my friend the bottle of her half-full red—it’s label torn and peeled. ‘Are you lost?’

‘We know we’re in a park in Prague, but not much else. I forgot to get data roaming, and their phone just ran out of charge,’ said Sam.

‘It’s my mistake for not looking at the check-in time, but I think we have another place nearby that we can go to,’ I added.

‘So you need tour guides? I’m Heather, like the colour of my hat.’ She plucked the beanie from her head, ruffling the thick, brown locks beneath, then pulled it back over her forehead.

‘And, in Rocket style, I’m Red.’ The other struck her lighter at a distance close enough to her hair to illuminate the scarlet strands which burnt through to her roots.

‘Are they your actual names?’ I asked, not wanting to laugh for manners sake but not wanting to take them at their word in fear of being perceived as mindless tourists without a sense of humour.

‘Red was nicknamed that in primary school because she was ginger but dyed her hair red as a sort of reclamation,’ Heather explained.

‘And Heather wears a stupid purple hat she found at a market so she can deliver corny pick-up lines to femmes.’

‘Don’t hate the player.’ Heather took the lighter from Red and pulled out a small plastic tube containing a roll-up cigarette. ‘What are you doing here in Prague, then, tourists?’

‘I’m Will, named for no particular reason, and this is Sam, like the firmean. We’re interrailing down Eastern Europe, and I plan to use it for writing inspiration.’ 

‘Anything inspired you so far?’ Red asked, with no idea that she would eventually be transcribed into a travel blog (with her name altered).

‘It’s only been a couple hours since we landed, and it’s been a bit of a nightmare,’ I replied honestly.

‘No doubt,’ said Heather, ‘but at least you know it’s all uphill from here.’ She struck the lighter against the end of the roll-up then placed it on her lips before retracting her hands back into her grey peacoat.

‘I suppose so,’ said Sam.

‘What about you?’ asked Red. ‘Or are you just tagging along?’

‘I like to draw, so I’m hoping to get a portfolio of landscape sketches.’

‘Heather can help you with that. She knows all the best places for views around Prague, even the ones most locals can’t access.’ Red drew the cigarette from Heather’s mouth and placed it onto her lips. ‘Do you smoke?’

‘Not really,’ said Sam.

I shook my head.

‘Have you smoked…?’ Red raised her eyebrows. ‘Not tobacco.’

‘On occasions,’ I said. ‘Not for a while.’

‘Would you like to?’

I looked at Sam, and she smiled encouragingly, although I could tell that most of the joy emerged from the break we were having from our rucksacks.

‘Go on then,’ I accepted the invitation, lifting the cigarette out of Red’s hands and wrapping my mouth around the lipstick or wine-stained filter. I inhaled gently several times before passing it around to Sam. She did the same, coughing a little between puffs, but steadying herself with some sips of wine.

‘What do you think?’ Red smiled like a cat with crooked whiskers, and I rocked side to side, watching her fade in and out of the cityscape.

‘If you really want something to draw, you ought to go out at night. Everyone knows Prague during the day, but most people are inside drinking at night. That’s when you’ll find the real gems,’ said Heather.

‘We’d take you round, but tonight is the only one we both have off work, hence—’ Red gestured to her nearly empty bottle of red.

‘What about tonight, then?’ Sam stood up from the bench with her hands on her hips.

‘I’m not sure,’ I spoke before the others had the chance. ‘We’ve got our rucksacks, and it has been a long day.’

‘I’ve got an E-Locker app. There’s a drop-off down the road,’ said Red. ‘But I completely understand if you just want to get back to your hotel.’

I glanced over at Sam, who now leaned eagerly towards the temptation of lights that simmered down to the river and up into the castle grounds. I shifted my gaze to Heather, and she shrugged with such nonchalance that I could hardly refuse. If only they’d been really pushy and insisted we go with them, then I could’ve been uncomfortable and kindly rejected their offer.

‘Sounds marvellous!’ I forged the energy to revel. 

Sam pivoted towards the hill and crouched down like one of those monster jump-up toys, primed for launch. Then she propelled herself forward and onto the bench, mounting the table as a frog would its lilypad.

‘Is she always like this?’ Heather chuckled.

‘No,’ I confirmed, ‘the cigarette must have calmed her down.’

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To be continued...