Friday, September 14, 2012

Czeching Out

Oh, where to begin? Prague is quite a lovely city. Too bad my first impression was being scammed out of my money, but after the initial two days and nights of picketing in a pirate costume, I moved on as I remembered the sage advice of Yoda, that "anger leads hate; hate leads to suffering." That's not my bag, baby. Different movie, I know, but this is my blog, and I can do what I want. Sufficed to say, I've been more discriminating in my dining choices and have had better luck as of late. However, as some people claim to be true, there is more to life than food, so I've done a lot of wandering, especially by the river. This city is old and wondrous, with magnificent architecture and many photo opportunities - no compromising shots of members of the British Royal Family, but I guess that's why I'm still small-time.

Speaking of things other than food, does wine count? I actually had no intention of furthering my wine studies after Greece, but I happened upon a wine bar here in town. I figured, "okay, one glass of tasteless grape juice, and I can say I tried it." Well the owner saw me taking notes and discerned that I was a professional (I get that a lot), so he kept pouring me tastes of some of his favorites. A lone Argentine, who may or may not be gay (definitely suspect), and I start conversation... you know: fashion, favorite actors, pink things, etc... Wait a minute... Well, next thing I know, these eight sixty-something English women traipse in looking for a good time. The Latin music was on, the lighting was right, so we started a dance party. Usually, I'm nervous competing in this arena with a hispanic guy as my competition, but these were married British senior chicks; I'm golden. Well, we had fun, but we cleared the place out of younger locals; I guess they just weren't into it. It's like the old Bohemian saying goes, "when life hands you cheap obscure wine, dance salsa", or something like that. Sam would approve.

I gotta go. Train to Munich tomorrow. Happy Friday.

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