Okay, so where was I? Oh yeah – Angela and I meet up with our group on the Charles Bridge and cross over to the other side for dinner.
Along the way, we stop in front of the nuttiest art installation/fountain, near of the Franz Kafka Museum. It’s of these two guys peeing into a small pool shaped like the Czech Republic. I guess when both guys actually work, they wiggle their bottoms – and hence their wee-wees – so that the “pee” makes patterns in the water. (Only one was working, though.)
To make things more interactive, people can send the word of their choice to an SMS number somewhere, which programs the guy(s) to spell out said word with “pee”. (One of our tour-mates tries this; it actually works.)
Next stop: the restaurant which, I must write now in hindsight, I am not completely impressed with. The waiter takes forever with our orders. I request the beef goulash and when I receive it, I’m looking for the beef. I’m not trying to be an elitist when it comes to trying new things. But I love my meat, and when I just get beef-flavoured gravy, I want some answers.
And after ALL this, Mr. Waiter Man has the bald-faced nerve to ask for a 10 per cent tip.
We leave the restaurant and as we make our way through the streets, our group shrinks and shrinks – we seem to be losing track of our mates. By the time I stop for ice cream with two fellow Canadian girls (Akila and Chrish) and two American dudes (Will and Surabh), we’ve completely lost the rest of the gang.
From there, our small posse of five decide to chill out and have a drink on one of the patios in the square near the Astronomical Clock. Okay, I think as we sit there chatting. I can handle this. Nothing too out of control. And we’ll be back at the hotel in plenty of time so I can pack and sleep.
And that’s when a couple of the others decide that, since it’s our last night in Prague, we should check out a club – for a little bit. Uh. Oh. This is what I want to avoid. It’s creeping closer to midnight, and I really just want to go back to the hotel, pack my things and sleep.
But for those of you who actually know me, convincing me to go to any sort of party – even if I’m not sure if I want to – is about as hard as moulding Play-Doh. So off we go, and find a club that’s suggested in Surabh’s guidebook.
Well, going to the club for “a little bit” turns into a tequila shot and two beers … which equals about two hours longer than I expect. The DJ turns out some half-decent mixes, and I cannot say that I didn’t dance. Oh, but I did. And it was good.
By the time we catch the night tram and return to the hotel, it’s 2:15 a.m. And because I never spoke to my roommates before we split up earlier, poor Angela’s waiting up for me when I get in. I feel badly that I have her up late worrying about my whereabouts. She’s just glad I’m all right.
So all’s well that ends well … at least until I have to get up in about four hours’ time to leave for Krakow. Ohhhh – and that will most certainly suck.