Showing posts with label Prague. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prague. Show all posts

Sunday, November 06, 2011

Training for Long Distance

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We had the foresight to shop at the grocery store, stocking up on food for the long train ride home. Seven hours can make a person pretty hungry and thirsty. A manned food cart comes through each train car offering beverages or snacks, but none of it is mouth watering. 

The train ride back gives me time to reflect on the week. It was spectacular even if it was overcast a few days, it never rained. It was cold, but not freezing. I had all good intentions of reading/editing/grading papers, but after the computer had high tea, that was not an option. Thus creating a double edged sword, this being the break,  I had intended to get the paper monkey off of my back, but it seemed I would have that passenger for some time longer; however, it did give me permission to relax and enjoy my surroundings not wanting to rush through to get back to grade papers. A teacher occupational hazard exposed.

Lest I forget, I owe Budapesters a bit of an apology. They are not the only group of people that love to stand in the doorways of the metros, trams, or buses blocking entry to anyone who is unlucky enough to arrive after they do. It seems that the Germans are just as adept at it. They also love to push past on the escalators leading to the metro as if there is a personalize subway just them and they need to reach it before it gets bored waiting.  It must be a people thing.

When it dawned on us that we had actually booked our rail ticket for a full 7 days, we kind of panicked. We generally go on short jaunts, so 7 days? What were we thinking? Ron investigated the castle tours, although there was no mention online about the October 31st closing. He had also checked out a possible side trip to Salzburg, Austria to see if the hills are really alive with the Sound of Music.  None of that was necessary. We found plenty to do and we were busy from the time we left the apartment, generally by 9am until we returned at 10pm or later.  As it is, there are still museums in Munich we did not get to that we would have liked to have visited. It is a rich city of culture interspersed with beer and pretzels.

It also was less expensive than I had anticipated. With each trip I start with great enthusiasm, but as the money goes flying out of my wallet, trepidation sets in. Our accommodation for the 2 of us, was 40 Euros a night including a grand breakfast. Due to some specials with the Hungarian train, MAV, the tickets were 58 Euros each way for both of us; for 116 Euros, we could not have flown for anywhere nearly as cheap.

Finally, thanks to my Press Pass, I did not have to shell out one Euro cent for admission to any museum or attraction, while Ron paid the concession senior fare. This too was a substantial savings.

Once home, back at the computer, it will be time to really get down to grading those papers signaling that the vacation is over and only a memory now. 

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Sunday, April 19, 2009

Vysehrad

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We return home today, but the flight is not until 5:30 this evening giving us tour time. The weather has actually cooperated giving us reasonable assurance to leave umbrellas at the B and B. Jan and Jitka assured us there is no reason to leave our room. No one is coming until tomorrow. Jan encouraged us to see Vysehrad, the National Cultural Monument. Obediently, that is where we headed. It was a fortified settlement dating back to the 10th century. Large enough to spend hours wandering around, this is what we did. When we returned to the B and B, we took advantage of having our room still for a short nap. Jan drove us to the airport. Here are a couple of travel warnings: When we checked in, after receiving our boarding passes, we were asked when we made our reservation. Honestly, I could not remember, so looked at the date on my print out. What was explained was that as of April 1st, Click4Sky changed the rules. You had to print out your own boarding pass or be charged 10 Euro for each. This information was not on the site when we booked it. I would have remembered this. Still, we were not charged extra or informed of this when leaving Budapest. We paid it and moved on. The Czech Republic is now part of the Schengen zone, relieving us of having to go through Passport Control; however, the line for security was through the massive airport taking us forty minutes to make our pass through. The overhead announcements were calling people non-stop to get to the gate or be off-loaded. We arrived at our gate five minutes after our flight was due to take off. We had to wait for the second bus to transport us to the plane, along with ten others. The plane was a propellor job, small and inconsequential. When we reached Budapest, I opted for Zona taxi without an arguement. For the time getting to the airport, the flight, and the ride from the airport, consumed four hours of time. A train ride there is 7 1/2 hours. Is it worth it?

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Saturday, April 18, 2009

Rainy Days and Mondays Really Get Me Down

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There is something about cold wet weather that just sucks the enthusiasm right out of my sense of adventure. Wandering around in weather that is just a few degrees shy of producing snow sends me to cafés to ponder what I am missing while I am toasty warm. One thing that Prague has going for it is that it is cheaper than Budapest. You can get a heaping platter of food, just like here, but with better beer and for half the cost. We were a pleasantly shocked at the cost of food, entrance fees, and other traveling expenses. Of course, we did the mandatory walk over the Charles Bridge, but half of it is under construction. Yet, the vendors are still there hawking their heavy plastic covered wares to protect them from the rain. We did go to the Museum of International Art. One of the exhibits was a functional glass elevator that only transports between the ground and fifth floors. The layout was spacious and extremely well coordinated. Ron wanted to visit the Cubist Museum, but I was holding back. I am a real square when it comes to that type of art work. I am a well rounded type of guy. At the last minute, he decided not to go in either. Walking through Old Town, there were gazillions of street markets set up ready to trap the unsuspecting tourist that wants some cheap piece of tourist crap that is bound to be tossed as soon as the romance of the city has worn off. Most likely it will happen minutes after unpacking at home. Of course, we had to see the astrological clock, but were too impatient to wait the fifteen minutes for it to do its thing. We bought tickets to another theater performance tonight. Don Giovanni performed by marionettes. Mozart composed the opera especially for Prague where he personally conducted the first performance in 1787. Prefacing this with "I hate opera", this was a spectacular performance. Marionettes mesmerize me. I could never really understand how they could train them in the first place. Seriously, this was a show to remember. Though you could see the puppeteers hands from above, their hand work was like an orchestra. The settings and costumes were superb. This is one show I would highly recommend, but get there early. It is open seating.

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Thursday, April 16, 2009

Prague

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This was one of those cheater weeks at the university, when there are only two teaching days due to the holiday overrun. I taught Wednesday and Thursday, done at 12:30 and ready to rock and roll. Two of our guests left this morning before I did and the others were leaving this evening two hours before we started out to the airport ourselves. We leave for Prague tonight.

Most of my time, I spent working on the computer, setting up vacation auto-responders, and answering e-mails, in between reinstalling programs and making a list of those that still needed installation.

The flight was a quick 50 minutes, yet Click4Sky, the budget offshoot of Czech Air served sandwiches and soft drinks at no charge. The driver for the B and B was waiting for us, a lovely young woman who was chatty with Ron sitting in the front seat.

When we arrived at the B and B and approached the large black metal doorway, Elena our driver, rang the bell, then said look at the animal. When we looked down, I could see something scurrying around at our feet, but could not make out what it was. When she said “I don’t know the name in English”, the word rat kept leaping to my mind. In retrospect, I am not certain why I was calm as I said it. Perhaps, I did not want it to be so. After all, who wants to be greeted by a rat where they are going to spend three nights? It suspiciously did not have a long hairless tail. Either it was not a rat or a rat that had escaped from some pharmaceutical research lab. When she opened the metal door, our new pet mate beat us inside, but this door only led to the concrete stairs leading to the house. In the light, this creature was easier to identify. It was a small hedgehog. Actually, it was more like a hedge piglet. It was so small and adorable. Before I could have any thoughts of adoption, Ron mentioned he read an article about a disease they are carrying. But can’t I just pet it? Killjoy!

The room was lovely with a large double bed, but we needed some dinner. Jitka, our hostess suggested a restaurant not too far away, but warned the kitchen closes at 10:30. As it turned out, she was misinformed, it closes at 9:30, but they had cold platters. I did manage to get a grilled sausage. The waitress must have taken pity on me.

The last time we were in Prague was 1996, in December. This balmy April night is much different.

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Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Menu Decoders - Budget Travel

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Menu Decoders - Budget Travel: "Don't know tourte from tartine, or harira from harissa? Before your next trip, print out one of these handy decoders with translations of food terms and popular dishes." Menu decoder BARCELONA • Eat Like a Local: Barcelona www.budgettravel.com/bt-srv/misc/0709_BarcelonaDecoder/barcelona_menu_decoder.pdf FRANCE • Picky and Proud of It: Paris's Top Baguettes http://www.budgettravel.com/bt-srv/misc/0806_FranceDecoder/france_menu_decoder.pdf MOROCCO • My Marrakech Is Better Than Yours www.budgettravel.com/bt-srv/misc/0804_MoroccoDecoder/morocco_menu_decoder.pdf PORTUGAL • Alentejo, Portugal: The Next Tuscany? http://www.budgettravel.com/bt-srv/misc/0802_PortugalDecoder/portugal_menu_decoder.pdf PRAGUE • Eat Like a Local: Prague http://www.budgettravel.com/bt-srv/images/0604_prague.pdf CHINA http://www.budgettravel.com/bt-srv/misc/0808_ChinaDecoder/index.html Do it yourself travel to China http://current.newsweek.com/budgettravel/2008/04/china_doityourself_travel.html?wpisrc=newsletter To get the language 'cheat sheets' go to the link under each country above. For more information about eating 'like a local' go to Budget Travel at: www.budgettravel.com/bt-dyn/content/article/2008/06/16/AR2008061601101.html?wpisrc=newsletter

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Friday, June 27, 2008

Can You Make a Bomb from Fluff?

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We were expecting two guests to arrive, a mother and daughter. They are Americans, but were arriving by train from Prague. I did not know it ahead of time, but the mother and I have a mutual friend. This was another of the e-mail notifications that was lost when the computer died, so we did not know their exact arrival time. At 2:30, I received an e-mail from Kelly the daughter stating she missed the train, to please tell her mother she would be on the next one. I thought this was strange. They were traveling together. There was no additional information to sort the puzzle. Later, Linda shows up at the door. Someone let her into the building. After introductions, she shares that she is a friend of my friend Bev. Then with confusion in her voice goes on to say, "My days have been filled with losses. Bev told me you love peanut butter and marshmallow fluff.|I brought you a jar, but that is the first thing they took away from me. Apparently, you can make a bomb out of marshmallow fluff. Then my luggage never arrived. I have been stuck with these clothes for the last three days. They are supposed to forward my luggage here." As it turned out, due to the lost luggage, Kelly made one more valiant attempt to return to the airport to try to recover it, but on her return, missed the train. In the meanwhile, Linda traveling on public transport, validated her ticket more than once and was caught by an inspector who found her overly validated ticket unreadable. She was fined $45.00 being too intimidated to fight back. Linda went off to puruse the city while waiting for Kelly to arrive. While she was gone, the phone rang and it was Malev Airlines stating they had the luggage for delivery and as soon as it cleared Customs, they would deliver it; however, they would call first. Minutes after I hung up the phone, the new guest in the other room asked if she could use the phone to reserve restaurants. No problem. After ten minutes of getting her business done, she returned the phone to the cradle. I was busy working on the computer, writing the Hungary chapter for the Frommer's Eastern Europe guide book. The phone rang! Expecting Malev again, I answered it. Rather I attempted futily to answer it. Successive attempts at pressing the answer button were disregarded by the phone forcing the call to go to voice mail. There was no message, just a hang up. Within a minute, the same thing repeated. A call came in, I could not get the phone to respond, voice mail and an hang-up. I knew it was Linda's luggage using a life line and calling a friend, only to be presumably ignored. Looking at Malev's website, I could only find two phone numbers. One for the Duna Club, the frequent flyer program and one for reservations. Using my cell phone since the now defunct regular phone would not access a dial tone, I called reservations in the hopes of getting a forwarding number to call for lost luggage. Voice mail in Hungarian was followed by a repeat in English. "To speak to someone in English, please press 2". I pressed 2 on the mobile, but the voice mail did not recognize it. I pressed again, but the initial message continued to repeat itself like a bad stuttering problem. I pressed 2, pressed 2, pressed 2, like a man possessed. What I eventually got was 22, which disconnected me from the system. Calling back again and start over had the same result. Two was just not making the tone that tittilated the system into action, but 22 was definite overstimulation. By the fifth attempt, I was able to claim a modicum of success and move on to the next level. This is where the youth outshine we older folk. Their thumb control is far advanced developed from video games, giving them superior powers. My nephews were always king of the universe while I was still trying to escape the dungeon when playing with them. They sadly left me to be eaten as they flew off to a level I could not even dream of. When I did navigate to the next branch of this phone tree, the message clearly stated for lost luggage press 1. Now we are getting somewhere. Press 1. Nothing. Press 1. Nothing. Press 1 harder like it will make a difference and the system will hear my added efforts of strengh in crushing down the key. The system was unimpressed. It would not budge beyond repeating my options with malicious joy that I was impotent to achieve any of them. My one last attempt scored an 11 and I was disconnected for the last time. Linda, I like you, but you will never see your luggage again. Go shopping. When Ron came home, he suggested I try his phone, a different model. He did not say, he would try his phone, but that I should. Like a miracle, it worked. I reached a living human being and to add miracle to miracle, she spoken English and gave me another number to call for the delivery service. Just when I thought I had grabbed the golden ring, I found I was on the wrong merry-go-round. I called the delivery service and tried explaining that the luggage had arrived, I had been called, they did verify the address, someone has been calling, but the phone was not working and I could not answer the phone. They must have thought no one was here, so they did not bother attempting the delivery. The lady on the other end said "Sorry, I no speak English well." Okay, one more time in monosyllables and s-l-o-w-l-y. That worked! She asked for the reference number. I turned to Linda and asked for the reference number. After a moment of silence, she whispered "Kelly has it with her. She took it to return to the airport." Without that number, my monolingual helper was helpless. The reference number are the keys to the kingdom. End of call. Hours later, Kelly arrived on the next train from Prague. I played the above game again, this time learning from my previous mistakes and scoring faster and reaching the upper echelons of levels with greater speed, but to no avail. I was told the luggage could be delivered at any time, but they could not understand they should call on my mobile and not the home phone. Grrr.... Good night everyone. Maybe the sandman and the luggage delivery man will show up hand in hand.

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