Not happy with the no web situation. Not getting the work done that I want to get done. But happy with the fact that haven’t kept up with world of WORLD POLITICS. Instead I’m immersing myself in art, literature, writing, and eating good Czech food. 
Moje ucitelka, Sylva, recommended in Czech class that we read children’s comic books to learn practice pronunciation and learn basic sentence structure. CtyrlÃstek (CH-terzh-leestek) is a famous comic that is now in its 40th year. All my students know it, and most grew up reading them. The comic has funny characters — a pig, a cat/human, a bunnie, and a doggie girl (one student said “she’s a bit of a bitch”). They get into all sorts of hijinks.
There are also short strips of cats, two guys drinking in a bar, and one with a dog w/glass, a chicken dressed in a suit, a fox, and what looks like an alligator. Anyway, the strips are fun, and get me speaking Czech, which is a tough language but one I’m determined to learn at least a bit of.
I read to myself on the metro, when the train is in motion, so that I can hear my words but no one else can. I get a few strange looks, but fcuk ‘em if they can’t take a joke.
But not the work. Summer hours will commence in July, with anticipated half loads or even thirds. Better than nothing at all, and with likelihood of one-on-one classes continuing, I could do alright the month of July & Aug, even while taking a two-week holiday when M & D come over for a Prague – and outward-bound road trip. Then onto the new novel upon return, with the idea to have a completed draft by Jan 1, 2010 or shortly thereafter.
As far as economy goes, that’s something to deal with as it comes along.
When I was first in Prague back in 1994, I stayed in a sort-of hostel-cum-dormatory connected to the Goerge Soros foundation school housed in a couple floors of the Olsanska Hotel in Zizkov. I passed by the hotel this morning while riding the #5 tram on my way to class, a new route for the new dom. Things — memories — began to fire. I new I was close to the school (if not looking at it), and close to the dorms, and to that little namesti with the statue and stone walkway through the grass, and the little bar whose sign simply showed a frothy beer mug, and also the little German restaurant run by the young couple whose son, Otto, would come running naked from the back room, screaming that he didn’t want to go to bed yet. This was that old neighborhood that held so many memories from 19 years ago.
After I came home from class, while the light was still fresh in a bluish sky, and dinner settling nicely in my stomach, I decided to take a walk. I packed a book and a journal. I made my way over to the TV tower (called “the giant spark plug” so many years ago). I wanted to find a cozy spot with a park bench so I could read and take some notes. But then the tower intrigued me, so I took a couple photos and got closer and then was right below it, and then walking past its fat silver cylindrical legs.
At the top of the next street, the avenue sloped downward toward a busy street below, and then further down to a far street. I felt close to that Zizkov area I used to walk around. The Tower was one of the neighborhood landmarks, but I hadn’t come up here often as most of my journeys want toward the Vltava and Prazky Hrad. But I walked down to this street and then turned right, up a subtle incline into Zizkov. This is a (or at least was) working class neighborhood with lots of block flats and narrow streets and pubs and small food & butcher shops.
I came to a very familiar street: a steel-tube fence protected a stairway and sharp downhill street. Okay, I thought, I remember this. I walked down the stairs and along the cobblestone street until I came upon that park I had caught a glimpse of while on the tram. And then an epiphany wrapped my brain memory: a flagstone path cut across the lower quadrant of grass, and it was on this path I had tread every day back in July-August 1994 from the hotel just around the corner. The hotel is still there — the Hotel Koprokova.
Back up the hill I went and followed the street over and up and around to the Hotel Olsanska. It was just the same as I’d remembered. I saw in through the window at the restaurant cafeteria where we were invited for daily breakfast of cold ham and salami, sliced red peppers and cucumbers and tomatoes, dark bread and seedless rye, yogurt and muslie. I remember that on the top floor, the sixth, was a small pub that let out onto a brick balcony overlooking parts of Prague.
One other landmark that I had to know if still existed was the little German restaurant I’d found back then, down two streets from the dormer hotel. I forget the name now — it was not the typical Czech restaurant name “U something or other” — the space was small, good for five or seven tables, no more, simple but clean and nice. The chef served an excellent pork schnitzel with potato pancakes and saurkrat. The beer was good. I recall paying the equivalent of $4 USD for a meal and a beer.
The young German couple who ran the joint had a young son named Otto, who often came from behind the kitchen door, running away from a spanking, deserved or not I don’t know. One night Otto came out of the kitchen door naked and screaming and his mother in hot slap-happy pursuit. I finished up my beer and left, never returning. I sort of draw the line in a restaurant with cats on the table and naked children in the kitchen.
Alas, the restaurant has changed hands. There is now a pizzeria, but in that same corner sits the table I used to sit at. The inside looks just fine, with warm browns and burgundy drapes and cloth table sheets, wine bottles in a rack, mirrors and artwork on the walls, a lighted Gambrinus beer sign over the door. I think I’ll visit this new joint for a pizza and some beer, and revisit more of that old, familiar neighborhood.
Praha 2 is on a hill well behind Old Town, but not too far that a 15-minute walk won’t suddenly find you beneath “the horse” (King Wenceslaus statue) at the top of Wenceslaus Square. From there it’s just another 10 minutes to Karlov Most (Charles Bridge). So you see, Prague is not such a big city, though there is a lot more of the new, block-construction “flat cities” reaching far out from Vltava River and Praza Centru.
I went out walking today after dinner, around 6.30, when the sun was still 30-degrees from the horizon. I want to get the lay of the land around Lezska street. So I found a billiards hall two blocks away, with real 9-ft billiard tables and 8 or 9-ft pool table. Prices are 140 Kc per hour during peak evening times. I poked my head in there at 8 pm and many table were open. They have a bar, and above the outside door is a Jack Daniel’s sign with some Czech slogan on it which I think translates to “Jack’s birthday is the month of September!” Can’t go wrong with that.
Just down the street is a Puerto Rican restaurant (or at least its Czech equivalent). Kitty-Korner across the street is a hole-in-the-wall watering spot that has Gambrinus beer for 23 Kc for a half liter (that’s about $1.09).
Around the corner and over by St So-and-So’s church (at Jiriho z Podebrad metro), there’s another pub with outdoor seating that gives a great view of the huge square, surrounded by some amazing architectural apartment houses. (more cheap beer). St So-and-So’s church isn’t the prettiest church in Prague, but it has a significant variation on the standard church-a-chock’a-block style: a huge transparent clock is set in the center of a wide, flat tower. The clock doesn’t work. It’s stuck on twelve o’clock. Midnight or Noon is not specified. Perhaps this is a sign to Jesus: if you’re still interested in your own “second coming” you’re a bit late.
So, to recap the neighborhood: pubs (pivovarska), restaurants, wine bars (vinotecka), fresh fruit & veg stands, supermarkets, mom-and-pop shops of all assortment, parks both LARGE and small, squares of breath and beauty, rehapped apartment building that recapture their original art deco or baroque themes, noise-some namesta and quiet gardens. Paradise.
Last Saturday the 16th I moved from Suchdol — packed Bert’s car with my stuff and got a drive — to my new flat in Vinohrady. It’s bright, clean, and close to everything. For example, my Wednesday afternoon class at Zelivskeho used to take me 45 min to get from Suchdol. Today I made it there in 12 mins (its pretty much up the street and around the corner about 1.5 k).
I’m liking the quiet courtyard outside my window. It’s pretty-roofed buildings scream Europe and Old. The sun floods the room in the afternoon. Morning’s are quiet and my bed is firm and cozy.
I need to get some art on the walls. I’m thinking map posters, from a map store that has lots of old-world maps, ones I’ve seen in offices that are quite smart and interesting. A couple of scatter rugs will mask the old gray carpet, too, so I’ll take a trip to IKEA over the weekend.
Ann is a great flatmate and becoming a fast friend. She’s lived in Prague for 15 months now, and plans to hang around awhile, like set roots. We’ve got differing schedules and see each other just in the morning and evening, but those are two good times to talk about the day and city life and students and Prague and what-all else.
I’m looking forward to getting web set up in the apartment so I don’t have to take my laptop to school just to write some posts (with pics) and get some other work done, too.
Life is REAL good.
I leave Suchdol tomorrow, and in some ways I’m so glad never have to come up the hill again on an overcrowded bus (the Uni is just across the street) to live. Of course, I’ll come out to visit Bert & Iveta, but long waits and sort-of hassle to get home when “home” can be so much closer ….
… that’s to end tomorrow.
Vinohrady here I come! Supermarkets just around both corners; bank ATM down the street; practically fall out of bed and into the tram. Now to figure out rerouting for class travel. Hmm.
I think this calls for a fresh bottle of Jameson and lots of coffee.
Prague has a big botanic garden in Troja, pretty much right next to the zoo. As it’s springtime, the flowers are in full bloom, with some just coming into their prime. Poppies are vibrant and plentiful, with dozens of pods ready to burst. I think I was actually a week early for some of these plants.
The botanic’s Japanese garden is superb, with lots of bonzai trees of all varieties. I found a quiet spot in a small grove surrounded by streams and bamboo and wandering duck couples. There I ate a sack lunch and wrote mini scenes for my next novel while the world walked by, eating ice cream and yelling at their children.
Later I went for a coffee at a small café overlooking the slopes of wine plants. This small vineyard has about fifty varieties of grapes. I think the land is used just for that, to show the many varietals found throughout Bohemia and Moravia. Now of course the grapes are the size of bird seed. Now that’s really young vintage.
Last night (actually, this began at around noon) I went on a pub crawl with Cal, that started in the sunshine at a Czech beer garden. The bar/garden was outside a sports center, inside which was holding a gymnastics show with young athletes. They were performing rhythmic gymnastics, and they needed lots more practice. Not like you see at the Olympics, that for sure.
A few 1/2-pints of Pilsner Urquell fueled us up for the next stop … a bar across the street, in another park. We sat indoors this stop, because the place was old and very Czech. Pizza was are intent, and when we ordered the waitress made a big production (twice), arms windmilling and loud explanation. Then she walked off. We figured we either weren’t going to get a pizza, or maybe there was going to be a wait. Sure enough, 45 minutes later our pizza arrived. No problem, because by then we were onto our second Zlatopreman, a dark beer that tastes great and works every time. The pizza was worth the wait: thin crust, crispy, with fresh thin-sliced sausage and banana peppers.
When we left the skies were clear and the air warm. We walked the kilometer or so to a famous restaurant/micro brewery, were more dark beer was ordered. More talk … Cal has lived in Vancouver and Japan, where he’d acquired some good stories. I always have good stories, too.
There are lots of Prague restaurants whose theme is beer. Or put this way, breweries have their own restaurants and pivovarsky: Pils, Kozel, Bernard, Staropreman, etc. Kozel is one of my favorite Czech beers. It’s dark beer is a sweet variety that is quite tasty. There’s a modern pub near Andel, so me and Cal walked from Nam Miru, across the river, and onto the pub. We got a great seat by the door and watched all the action of people coming and going, trams stopping just outside, ladies strutting their Friday night wiggle.
Finally it was time to call it a day. About 10.30 I hoped onto an alternate bus (tram reconstruction fucked my route up), which took me in a big circle and dropped me off were I’d started. So I went into the metro and finally made it up the Suchdol hill by around midnight. Naturally, this morning I was hung over.
And that would be candy.
The college girls plied my good nature with a little bit of heaven: a chocolate sphere filled with nugat and delicate chocolate and amandula … marzipan! They threw in a bottle of Austrian wine (long gone, thank you).
The Mozart balls can be found in three cities: Vienna, Salzburg, and Prague. They are fabulous treats for before, during, and after dinner. Addictive, aromatic, and fattening, they can only be indulged as a splurge: 4-5 per night until their ranks have been exhausted. And then … double duty on the walking, sit-ups, push-ups and sprints.
Is there any other more perfect substance that complements cabernet so well?
