Praha Pivo

Thursday:


I'm sat in a park before a panorama of Prague. Above hangs a strange bunting of shoes on a cable suspended from the giant, functioning metronome to my left. To my right a scurry of red squirrels are practicing parkour. I am mildly hungover. Some of those shoes look new, testament to Prague's artistic streak (or didn't fit?). I'm tempted by some leather daps, they're slung low but I'd still need a triple, or at least a leg up. By the time I left, Germany was warm. The Czech Republic is scorching; crossing the border was not unlike stepping off a holiday plane. It is good to be in another country although I'll miss the functionality of everything German. And the language, not that I spoke it but after a month I could deliver my meagre range of bastard phrases with just enough confidence to invoke pitiful assitance. Back to square one with Czech. So it goes. I arrived in Prague last night, ditching Joe at the city limits to meet my couch surfing hosts Kamila and Ondrej at their local. The pub was out of Goulash so it was pork loin and mash with X amount of Pilsner before I slept on the absent flatmate's yoga matt. Perhaps tonight the yogi will return and I'll cook dinner for everybody. Even the most basic kitchen is a joy after my two pan camp stove plastic bag tupperware routine on the road. Meanwhile I'm waiting on a lunchtime rendezvous with Kamila and Ondrej. Gracious hosts are fast becoming a happy theme. After Bettina's tour of high culture in Dresden, the Gothic and the Baroque; the bombed and rebuilt, Felix and Kristine further indulged me with an equally edifying Saturday night concert party at an(other) anarchic but well organized Wagenplatz. Felix's band were great and I enjoyed seeing another functioning commune space. Tonight Ondrej will take me to a beer festival in the enormous Stromovka park; I am being spoilt (literally by beer). 

around the Czech border

soundchecking

Friday:


It was nice, then, to spend some time in company to whom I felt no debt. Joe was one of a trio of young men with laden bicycles I found convened over maps in a square in Litoměřice on Tuesday afternoon. The two Italians were headed for the Norwegian fjords by way of Dresden, Berlin and Hamburg. Joe the Frenchman, like me, is headed for Istanbul. Mapless again I was glad of the geography seminar, the mutual exchange of topographical experience. Alone again it was with more than a sense of politeness that I suggested to Joe that we ride together to Prague. There are of course different ways of going about cycle touring. I tend to be bashfully well equipped (except cartographically), enjoying the fact that all my gear is high spec and works very well, but careful to avoid discussions of its cost. Joe, au contraire, is proudly ill-equipped; waxing lyrical about the virtues of budget fleamarket kit, boasting his bargains but complaining incessantly about his myriad equipment failures. We rode slowly and I enjoyed his company. Perhaps we'll catch up en route Vienna.


There was something about the overwhelming potential of cities in a previous post. Looking at all the Italians' maps I started to feel that same kind of vertigo about the spaces in between them. There are so many roads to Istanbul! So yesterday in Prague I visited a map shop and am starting to feel a little more on top of things in that respect. It gets more difficult from here, with hills and heat (I burned through my shirt on Wednesday) so I am trying to engage with the problems responsibly. I have three maps, new suncream (thank you, Shiv, yours was indespensible) and even some mosquito repellant. In a few minutes I'll head South again, this time along the Vltava. First proper stop České Budějovice, aka Budwies - no prizes for guessing what they make there.


Oh and with sixteen days riding (I think) I´ve just hit 1000 miles on the odometer. I'm sticking with miles for now because I get a better rate of exchange against the roadsigns. 

bike crew

company

litres

Kafka

Praha