Piece a Pisa

Prague Part 2: The Actual Trip

After class Thursday we got on the first of 3 trains, starting our 10 hour trip to the  Czech Republic. So glad we have German rail passes because we only had to pay for the train from the border of Germany to CR and it was 20 euros. Normally the entire trip costs around 300 euros.

Once we got to the train station in Prague it was around 10pm and the place was completely empty. We had a map but we had no idea how to find our hostel. We asked the taxi driver how much it would cost to get there and he had the nerve of telling us 700 korunas for 4 people. The map said it was 1km away. 28 euros. 1 kilometer. I felt like saying, “Bitch paaaleeaseee”. We debated over which exit out of the station we should take to start our journey when the driver came back and told us 400 korunas for 4 people (4 euros a person). Then I felt like saying, “You learn quick young grasshoppa”.

When we got to our hostel I was surprised to see how clean and modern it was. I’ve become accustomed to third-world-country-hospital-like hostels. Traveling on a budget. They placed us 6 females in a 12 person dorm (again, traveling on a budget) where people were already asleep. We all had our computers so we immediately thought this was a bad idea so we transferred into a 4 bed room and had 2 of us share each night. Good thing we are all tiny. It ended up saving us a good amount of money and we didn’t have to worry about anything being stolen (paranoid Sophie over here). The next day we woke up and paid 120 korunas (5 euros) for BREAKFAST BUFFET! HELLOOOOOO PERFECT START TO MY DAY! They had everything from toast and jelly to real, fresh fruit (insert excited profanity) to homemade granola (@$*&!) to cheesy, scrambled eggs (0_0 ßcrackhead seeing a mountain of crack). On this entire trip eggs have become such a rarity that my soul grows a little every time I have the opportunity to consume such a heavenly source of food. I ate half my body weight and then made a sandwich to-go for lunch (I know, I’m such a good financial planner- you’re welcome, Dad).

We started on our free walking tour when we graced by the presence of our raspy voiced tour guide. Yayyy I love having tour guides who’ve lost their voice give 30 person tours around heavily crowded, loud areas. After 2 hours of not hearing much, except for really important facts like his grandfather was an Olympic runner for Czechoslovakia, we ditched and went to do our own exploring.

Funny story- we were trying to find the famous Prague Palace, aimlessly wandering, when Charlotte asked a passerby where it was. He laughed in her face and responded, “You passed it”. We walked back the direction we came and Charlotte asked another. He laughed and answered, “You’re standing in it”. We are some damn touristy tourists! Apparently the whole gated area with all the buildings inside it is considered the Palace. Who’da thought.

That night we went to the 5 floor club!!!!!! Or as I like to call it, a dream come true. The first floor was radio hits, then came hip hop (or as the stairs labeled it, “black music”), then oldies (inhabited by, you guessed it, old people) and, finally, the chill room. My main headquarters was hip hop where we avoided creepers by standing on a ledge over the dance floor. This might be why people tried to take pictures with us after…I think they thought we worked there. Don’t worry I made some really unattractive faces for those pictures. Tag me!

Forgot to mention how before we got to the club we had THE BEST MEXICAN FOOD I’VE EVER TASTED and I’ve been to Mexico. Charlotte and I split a taco salad with really tasty, shredded chicken and spicy salsa inside a fried tortilla shell. Claire and Maria split nachos that were DAAANNKKKK and, like the vulture that I am, I swooped in and finished their leftovers. I missed you spicy food. I had to hold back from sneaking the hot sauce into my purse.

            Prague was fun and definitely a good sight to see but it was also sketchy and a slight let-down. I think because it was a holiday weekend a lot of people left the city to go travel elsewhere. It seemed eerily empty, especially around the non-tourist attractions.

prague palace

dad?

Lennon Wall

<3

weirdest thing i've ever seen- GIANT crawling babies on a tower

trideln'ks: cinnamon pastries that are crispy on the inside and doughy on the outside. HEAVEN.

Happy Birthday America!

So even though I'm supposed to be studying for my BIT final tomorrow, I figured I'd update my blog. As you all know, unless for some reason Germans are starting to read my blog, this past Monday was the 4th of July. Some of the German students here organized a little barbeque for us by the lake here in Munster and it was...very American. Our group wore ridiculous outfits to show their pride, drank a lot of beer, and instead of the usual hot dog eating, we had bratworst on a bun with ketchup and mustard. We were rowdy and annoying, and spoke loudly to each other unnecessarily. There was beer pong (obviously) on tree stumps, chugging from mini kegs, an excessive amount of food (duh) and festive paper plates. I felt home again. And, needless to say, by the end there were drunk people stumbling, excessive food amounts being thrown out, garbage everywhere and more beer pong. It was easy to notice everyone around us staring because they wanted so badly to be carefree and American. At one point, some guy stole a beer from the boys' case right in front of us, but we knew he was dying inside with jealousy, and we were in such high spirits, we just let him have it. Land of the free, home of the brave...does it the best.

american hotdogs german style

bunny invasions all over

Prague Part 1: The Explanation

            So this weekend I was really supposed to stay in Munster and try to save some money butttt I was too scared to stay by myself because of The Creeper. I don’t know if I ever wrote about The Creeper but here is the story (again maybe). When Jill and I went to London we inconveniently got ourselves a flight from Dusseldorf “Weeze”. You may already know that Dusseldorf is an airport in Germany. However, Dusseldorf “Weeze” is an airport NOT in Germany, but in Holland. Weeeee I love when airports name themselves the same thing in completely different countries! HURRAAYYY, so much fun! Basically you can imagine what happened here: we arrived in Dusseldorf, Germany 2 hours before our flight only to receive the best news from the information desk- we were in the wrong place. We could take a taxi and get there in an hour and a half for a mere 160 euros. Pocket change. When I handed the driver my 80 euros, I kissed my weekend to Prague goodbye. Or so I thought.

            On our way home from London we had the awesome opportunity of riding every type of public transport there is (other than a police car I suppose). We took a train to the airport, a flight to the other airport, a shuttle to the train station, a train to a train, and we were getting ready to get on our last train when we realized our current train was running 15 minutes behind. Sooooo lucky little devils that we are we miss our last train to Munster (by the way this is around 12am). As were slowing down to where we were supposed to make our connection, I watch a crazy man running up and down the aisles saying something in German but I catch one word: Munster. We are getting our bags down and walking towards the doors when we ask the conductor how we are now supposed to get to Munster. The crazy man comes back yelling out the same conductor in German. The conductor tells us we missed the train but the crazy man is going to Munster too so he will write us a voucher for a free taxi. I immediately have a bad feeling. CrazyMan has 3 camera tripods, and giant duffle bag and spastic, unnatural mannerisms. He starts talking to us in English and I immediately turn my British accent on. The usual conversation starts with him asking where we were from, what were our names, etc. I have goosebumps writing about this. “My names Sophie, that’s Michelle. We’re from London, England”.  Looking back this whole scene is probably God sending me a message that it’s time to start my acting career. But back to the story- CrazyMan starts telling us about how he was in Budapest taking pictures because he is a photographer which in Sophie’s paranoid mind (my alter ego) is heard as, “I was in Budapest stalking females around your age, taking pictures without them knowing and later murdering them and taking pictures of their dead bodies”. Fun fact- in my spare time I enjoy marathons of relaxing TV shows such as CSI, Law and Order and Criminal Minds. But you would never guess, right?

Anyway, we get into the cab and my next wave of panic floods in. The taxi driver doesn’t speak English, but CrazyMan does. He asks us where in Munster we are going. Jill tells him our address, our real address, and I almost peed myself. I wanted to lie and say something like the train station, where we could take another taxi back to our dorms. He instantly replies, “Oh, I know where that is! You live right next to me! That’s the student dorms, yes, I know exactly where that is.” So just a brief review of the situation: we are now in a cab, with a driver that doesn’t speak our language, in a country where we can’t speak their language, with a creepy guy who is probably some type of sexual predator, and who just so happens to live right next to us. Yayyy uncomfortable, life-threatening situations are THE best! If I wasn’t already in panic, clenched-teeth mode, I’m now on the verge of tears. He tries to make conversation in the cab and I honestly don’t remember what I was even saying because my words weren’t matching what I was thinking. I was thinking about the potential weapons I could use at any moment.

Stab in the neck with my key? Might not puncture quick enough. Should’ve bought that mase. Jill knows how to put a guy in the sleeper hold, though, that’s good. Maybe the cab driver has a gun. But he might be in on it. He’ll probably want our money so he’ll just let The Creeper kill us. Is the door unlocked? I’d have enough time to roll out of the car and run away before he could reach across to the back seat. Note to self- buy hand knife, mase or a taser when we get back. If we get back.

The funny thing is I can remember every thought running through my head at the time, but I can’t remember where I left my cell phone every other 5 minutes. CrazyMan asks about where we had been and starts going off about London. Where abouts did we live there? Why were we studying abroad in Germany if we didn’t speak German? Why was our study abroad so short? Were we undergraduate students or graduate? Converted into Sophie’s brain as: I know you’re not from London so now I want to know where you are really from. It’s funny how easy it’s going to be to kill you because you’re in unfamiliar territory. I need to act quickly because you’re going back to wherever you’re from soon. If you are undergrads, you must be young.

Funny how you’re mind can play such tricks on you.

               To sum up the story, CrazyPsychoScaringTheCrapOutOfMeMan keeps talking even after I pretend to sleep, going off about how he used to work in a circus in Paris- WTF!???? Fortunately, he gets dropped off first and then proceeds to come over to my window, KNOCK ON IT TO GET MY ATTENTION, and wave goodbye. We drive 5 seconds and get dropped off at our dorm where I had an entire plan to walk to a different building, wait, and later go into our dorm and not turn any lights on (because clearly he was going to linger and see which halls I went down so that he can find me later). But, once we got out of the cab all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball in my bed so Jill and I went straight to our rooms. There I proceeded to barricade my door with my desk chair, look for possible weapons around my room and place them next to my bed. I had a plastic knife, my computer, and mug that I could smash him over the head with. I knew I was doomed. I stayed up talking to my dad on Skype- thank God he was on because I was having more than a panic attack at this point. I tried to go to sleep with classical music on but every time I closed my eyes I pictured him standing over my bed with a knife (I know I’m crazy but I’ve never been so scared in my life). I had to turn the music off at one point because I felt like it was droning out important background noises such as his footsteps coming towards my door, or the car engine he would shut off before he got there. World’s most paranoid female right here.

                 Basically the point of this story is that I am still scared he is going to find me. So much so that I’ve saved a document on my computer titled “Creeper” with descriptions of what he looked like. In case I ever go missing the police will find it and easily identify him. I know I’ve watched way too many murder mysteries but I can just picture him waiting in his car every time we come home at night, following me to my room and since we are all in completely different rooms/floors/buildings WITHOUT PHONES it makes it that much easier to panic/get abducted.

I could not stay there by myself for the entire weekend.

Thus, I went to Prague.