Prague is so beautiful. It might be the most beautiful city I've ever seen. (City- the most beautiful town might still be Interlaken, Switzerland.) It is the town from where the word Bohemian derives; the architecture is gothic and the decorative style is Art Nouveau. The town is completely walkable, with most of it designated as a pedestrian zone, which means almost no cars and lots of cobblestones. There are restarants and indoor/outdoor taverns everywhere, and the Czechs have a great fondness for beer. Which means that there's a LOT of drunk men (and women) roving the streets when the sun goes down. And I mean DRUNK. It has a real Amsterdam-party feel at night, but on a much smaller scale.
Getting to the town center was very easy... everyone speaks English (although, true to my earlier post, I did learn how to say "Thank You" even though I am sure my Czech is completely unconvincing) and a bus/metro combination is painless and cheap (only about $1!) The cobblestones were a breeze considering that my luggage was still at the airport. My hostel wouls have been fine had they invested in some screens - a steal at about $18. Prague was overcast, so it was cool and comfortable walking around.
I just walked and walked. I had a traditional dinner- some kind of overcooked pot roast in a mildly sweet gravy, with cranberry jelly and whipped cream. Yes, whipped cream on my pot roast. Their dumplings, for sopping up the yummy gravy, was really just a special roll that was cut crosswise. Sort of their take on the Ikea Swedish meatball platter. Mediocre. But eastern european fare is all kinda like this: mild, fattening, and very basic.
I caught a jazz show- they're very into jazz for some reason. There's jazz all over the city. I missed the blacklight shows that are also all over the city... Then another restless night at the hostel. I got about 4 hours of sleep before I decided to walk around the city at the break of dawn - 5:00 a.m. to see Prague when everyone else was sleeping. Gorgeous.
The flight back home would have been much better had the woman in the row behind me had chosen to reposition the carseat of her 1-year old son, sitting behind me, so that he would not have been kicking me like a young Ronaldhino for the first 2 hours of the flight.
I was nice at first. I really was. He was shreiking bloody murder for THE ENTIRE TRIP, but that didn't bug me as much as the kicking. Kicking, kicking, stronger than any 1-year old should have had any ability to kick. I turn to her about an hour into it, when I was completely convinced it was not going to stop anytime soon, and said, "Do you think you could put him on your lap for a while?" She said, "It's because he's tired. I can try."
First of all, I don't remember asking "why." I don't really care why. I feel bad for the kid already, because I know that I sure as shit don't want to be sitting on this plane for 9 hours, and it's gotta be 10 times worse for that kid. Why is not the point. And I know he can't help the crying. And I know she can't stop him from kicking. You can't reason with a 1-year old.
Second, and more importantly, what do you mean, "Try?" I have had the misfortune of sitting near a screaming child on a plane for only a few flights I remember, and most of the time, either the child cries himself to sleep, or the parent regularly picks him up, walks him around the plan trying, sometimes in vain, to entertain the rugrat. I kept peeking behind me for the first couple of hours, and this woman was really making no attempt to entertain her child. Perhaps he was sick, or tired, but I think he was mostly bored. For the duration of the flight, whenever someone walked by (often, as I had the seat right next to the bathroom), he threw something on the ground as if on cue. The passerby would pick up the fallen object, smile at the kid. The mom seemed to have no interest in her kid, nor the fact that he was trying to punch a hole clear through my seat.
She picks her kid up upon my request, and, SHOCKER! The kid stops crying.
20 minutes later, she returns and the kicking re-commences.
I'm trying to peek at the kid without making it perfectly obvious that I'm pissed off. I was trying to be understanding. But now it seems that the kid actually isn't crying, he's just making a lot of noise to "talk" or whatever, and he's kicking my seat because it's FUN. And mom is completely pretending it isn't happening. After all, he's not bothering HER.
Of course, I could've been more pushy about changing my seat, but I had the BEST SEAT on the plane. First row, lots of leg room, and a wall in front of me so I could put my legs up. And I was really enjoying the conversation I was having with this young Orthodox Isreali women (with her two incredibly well behaved kids) next to me.
The straw that broke this camel's back was the kicking that was so hard my seat shook and my head bounced off the back. So I turned to the woman and said "JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS?" And now she's all nervously adjusting the kid's seat. BTW, still no apology. Just a "I'm trying to adjust the seat..." Which she did successfully, so that I could enjoy the rest of his screaming kick-free.
Now, why she couldn't have tried that BEFORE she made me yell at her is beyond me. Even the Orthodox woman with the perfect kids apologized when I got on for the noisy flight I was going to have to endure! And she didn't even have to.
I have really grown as a person. I completely realize it's shitty parents I hate. It's just too bad they're so common.
Anyway, I'm home again and so happy to be here. I think I'm going to go buy some Italian designers at Daffy's so that I can have a reminder of this fabulous trip.
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