Spring Park 2

After our afternoon drink and excursion around the castle hill, Giovanni bid me farewell, and headed back to his apartment outside the city center. Before he left, he informed me about a nice park, nestled near the river, just outside the city center that mostly locals and long term visitors utilize. The area, called Vysehrad, boasted a massive public green space as well as a smaller cathedral, similar to the one on near the castle that we had investigated that morning. Empowered by my newly discovered public transit prowess, I ventured on my own down into the metro to find the stop for this park. Turned out easier than I had expected, just one stop from the station where I had entered. I exited the station and tried to follow the people, but upon exit, they seemed to scatter in every direction. I headed off toward the river, considering Giovanni had told me that the park and church could be located there. After taking what turned out to be the very long route, I found my prize. The park, filled with families and couples walking hand-to-hand, delivered a peaceful paradise compared to the tourist mobs elsewhere in Prague. I strolled along, appreciating this park - watching people play tennis, eying dogs doing their thing, listening to children beg for ice-cream, and savoring the overall tranquility. I found the church easily, the peaks revealing its location. A large cemetery, to the right of the church, invited me in for a what I thought would be a quick walkabout. As is customary for me, I wandered up and down the crammed graveyard, reading the enormous headstones and appreciating the small landscapes which are planted directly over many of the older plots. Something magically poetic, these robust plants growing on top of the deceased, reminded me about the chain of life. Compelled, I photographed the monuments and statutes, the little gardens, with the cathedral itself serving as a wonderful background.

After some time at the cemetery, I found myself sitting on a wall, observing the action on the river below me. From here, I spied an amazing vantage point for the castle/cathedral too the right, far off in the distance. Below, rowers navigated the river to the south. Pedestrians did their best to find their way to and from their destinations. Lost in my thoughts and considering my good fortune, I sat. After an hour, I made my way back to the hotel for a nap.

Giovanni sent me a text, I discovered when I awoke. He wanted me to meet him at the Cechuv Most tram stop on the castle side of the river at 9:45 PM. We had discussed doing dinner earlier that day, but I did not hold out much hope, considering people sometime flake and change their minds once they get back into their minds and personal routines. Excited to have a plan, for this was my last night, and I had decided to stay awake until my morning train which I would need to depart the hotel for at around 7:30 AM. Although Giovanni told me the trams/metro from my hotel would take me 15 minutes, the journey ended up consuming nearly 45 minutes, leaving me a half-hour late at our meeting location. I felt a bit stressed, one of the few times during this overall journey, due to my tardiness. When the tram stopped at Cechuv Most, I spied Giovanni waiting for me. He had changed his shorts and t-shirt, as had I, into a pair of jeans and a light sweater. Too funny, I amused myself, as I greeted him with a peck on either side of his face. Quickly, he led me to the north, along the river and informed me that he wanted to share another piece of Prague heaven. After a 10 minute walk, we crossed the street, to the left, to find a large set of stairs heading up the hill. We followed a few other people, heading the same way, and at the top of the staircase, found a large expanse of space that housed multiple restaurants and bars, each with enough seating for what seemed like hundreds of people. I loved this spot immediately. From here, I could see a complete view of the city at night - one of the most stunningly fantastic of this, or any, trip. I certainly understand what the tour books mean when they tell travelers that Prague must be viewed at night.

Giovanni and I sat at a table, it was now 10:30 and most of the restaurants had stopped serving food. We inquired about a meal, and the hostess did a little sweet-talking with the cook (who did his thing at an outside grill/kitchen to our right). She informed us that yes, we could eat, but that we had to be quick about it. The male server, customarily rude like all servers in this city, tossed us the menus and immediately asked for our order. This, before we could even open the menu. It made me laugh and Giovanni informed me that this was typical Czech service, especially for tourists. I had previously encountered this same type of service, but had tried to dismiss it. His confirmation of my initial perception, saddened me. I remarked about how much better the Czechs would do with tourists (and thus the capitalistic dollars we offer), if they only grasped they importance of proper service and attitude. Since tourism is probably one of the largest sources of revenue, it seems odd that many of those involved in its delivery are so cold. Nonetheless, we did not allow their attitude to disrupt our nice meal. I ordered a lamb skewer and Giovanni a chicken ceasar salad - both were delicious, as we shared bites.

After dinner, we followed custom and ordered some travel beers - plastic cups filled with Budweiser (which was actually invented here by Czechs and brought to the US where it enjoys market dominance). The recipe is essentially the same in both countries I am told by locals. We wandered to the right and found a place on the ground among the masses of others who had beat us to the ritual. There we talked and talked, Giovanni quite happy to share time and space with someone he said was open and warm. After nearly a year in Czech, he was feeling extremely homesick, wanting to be back among his culture of warmth, openness, and love. His assessment of the Czech people certainly matched my own. A ride on the tram or metro revealed only stone faces, people lost in some kind of perpetual funk? Perhaps the transition out of communism and into capitalism, complete with the expected growing pains of such a profound cultural and social movement in a relatively short period of time, is causing this angst. I felt it in Hungary too, but it seems more profound here in Prague.

Around 4 AM, Giovanni, who had been so gracious to help me stay awake all night, called it quits. He had to work the next day, at the hotel we watched from across the river, and needed to gain at least a few hours of sleep. We wandered a different path to find the bottom this time, ending at the tram station by the bridge. Giovanni checked the night tram schedule and as the tram approached instructed me to get on board. Rushed, I barely was able to say goodbye or thanks. I left this nice Italian man on river bank as my tram tore into the night. After about a minute, I realized the tram was not going the way Giovanni had hoped, back toward the city center, and instead was taking me deeper into suburbia. After a little panic, I pressed the button and jumped off, making tracks quickly to return to the bridge. I crossed the bridge by foot, hoping to find another tram station there, on the correct side of the river. I boarded the next tram, filled with drunk, obnoxious American tourists, and did my best to pretend that I was Czech so that they did not pull me into a conversation. Twelve stops later and then two blocks by foot, I arrived back at Hotel Saint George. It was now 5:30 AM. Breakfast starts at 7, and I needed to head to train station at 7:30. My plan was working nicely.