From Peaches to Prague, and everything in between

I was unaware that Laura Branigan was an International Superstar. This is probably because I was born a year after her biggest hit single, "Gloria". I know this work of art as the song that played in my Aunt Cindy's car. Little did I know that it's worldwide popularity has demanded the song's words be sung in what I've counted up to now, 3 languages (English, Estonian, and Czech). I thought I would put a link to her video on this posting, but then decided I did not want something so trashy attatched to my sparklingly stellar narrative. I heard this familiar little diddy upon entering a grocery story in Prague, my latest adventure. This brings me to:

Peaches: Realizing that I neither wanted to visit the ATM again, nor had the energy to find one, I came to the conclusion that it would behoof me to simply purchase my lunch for the next day at a grocery across the street from where I happened to be standing at the time. I figured if I could manage a grocery store in Estonia, the Czech Republic couldn't be too much of a challenge. How wrong I was... After scowering the aisles for about 30 minutes trying to figure out where I could buy something other than bread, I came upon the dairy and produce section. I grabbed a yogurt, and started to check the apples. Then I noticed the juicy peaches looking up at me. Finding two small, but perfectly ripe specimens, I bagged them and looked to see what everyone else was doing. In some Estonian markest you must weigh your own produce and put a priced sticker on them. I did not see a scale or a single person doing this. Next, I found some water, a snicker's bar, and grabbed a croissant from "bread-land" and proceded to the check-out where I stood in line longer than anyone around me (this theme carries into future stories). Finally reaching the register, the woman scanned my items. She said something to me in Czech to which I replied something like, "eehhoohuu". She then confiscated my peaches. It was obviously not the answer she was looking for. Trying to hide my despondency, I gave her money slowly, trying to gesture towards the peaches. I suppose, realizing that I was obviously a moron, she refused to make further eye contact, took my money and the next person in line moved up. I never saw my peaches again...

Prague: Oh yeah...I went to Prague this weekend. It was...nice. No, it was beautiful. Let me explain: Uttering the motto, "I can sleep when I'm dead", I chose to go out with friends to a club the night before flying to Prague at 8am (getting to the bus to the airport at 6.20am). Two hours of sleep later, I hopped the plane and flew to Central Europe. For the first 7 hours of Saturday, I dragged myself through sunny, humid Prague in a slight malais. It was sorely disappointing. Nothing spectacular stood out. I went to the Eastern-Side Old Town. It was cool, but I live in a city which has one of the most spectacularly beautiful Old Towns in all of Europe (or at least I think). At about the time I decided I did not like Prague and wasn't quite sure what I would do for 2 more days, I turned the corner and saw the river, as well as the first photo in this post. I was a changed man. Suddenly I got my second wind, and started taking pictures like it was my job...which it is when I travel. In total, I took between 400 and 500 pictures. Thankfully I scaled them down to 180 which you can see if you want, and you know my e-mail! The next two days flew by, and I ended up absolutley loving my time in "The Paris of the East". I'll let you know how it compares if and when I ever get to Paris.

Petr: In English, this name is spelled Peter. In Estonian, it is Peeter; Czech Petr. I know at least one in each of these languages. This year, I can't escape this name and the people attatched to it.This was my host in Prague's name. For those of you that know the stories behind this name, it's just not fair. For those of you that don't, please don't ask. It's not worth the emotional energy it takes to tell.

Plane/Post-traumatic Stress Syndrome: I love to travel. There are no words to describe my love for this pastime. It is my greatest hobby, one I will continue to pursue until I no longer have the ability or means to do so. I hate planes though. I have such a loathsome repore with planes that I can feel when something bad is about to happen to me, like getting bags searched in Amsterdam, nearly missing the plane to London, nearly getting kicked off my flight home for Christmas, and the ever present, inevitabley choosing the longest line to stand in. On my flight back from Prague, I fell into this last trap 3 times. The first was checking in at the airport. Every teller-person was moving faster than the one I'd chosen. The second was going through customs. Trying to learn from my first mistake, I chose the shortest line. There were 4 lines, and each one around me was moving in lightning speed compared to mine. They have lines for "All passports", and "EU Citizens". The EU one moves really really fast which is why I'll never understand why there are French and British people in my line complaining about how slow it is! Move over!

And then I boarded the plane. After finding my seat, I had a feeling like something was missing. A flight-attendant then came back and asked a man behind me if he would switch with a mother and her infant who had be put into the Emergency Exit line. Of course, I was missing the neverending screams of an infant. Granted, had I been this infant, I'd have screamed the whole time too. Just in the aisle next to my seat, her dad decides to stand her up (I don't think she was more than 3 or 4 months...definatley not standing), and of course she falls down. Now she is this tiny thing staring up at strange legs, faces, and crammed into a dark plane aisle. Her mom then puts the baby into the plane seat while she sets stuff above. The baby of course falls onto the floor again, I think hitting her head on the way. That kid will someday develope an phobia of flight.

The third line disaster came at customs in Estonia. This time I tried to just randomly select a line. Wrong again! I was the LAST person to go through, though I was one of the first off the plane. But as you can see by the last picture, it was all worth it!!!!