Prague and Beyond

« Return to Czech Republic

KABOOM!!!! Thunder broke right over our heads, rattling the cabin, shorting the lights, almost throwing us from our chairs. There was no storm, no thunder preceded nor followed this one explosion. “I think I’m becoming Jewish,” says Mike, a little white in the face. I put down the fork of pork. There are signs, and there’s thunder. I am not a superstitious guy. At least, I never used to be. No more pork adventures for me.

Burning sugar into the absinthe like a junkie cooking up, the bottle of bright green 70% proof liquid soon took its toll. Absinthe, the liquor that inspired artists like Monet and Van Gogh, is still banned in many countries. It is a drink that gets you high, softening the colours, inspiring ideas, and also, alcohol poisoning. We hit the village’s only pub where the lady behind the pub kept bringing up pints, even when we had wandered onto the street to look at a nearby ski hill. Mike, Mike and Luis were all young US Army guys, and had all fought in Iraq. It was a new perspective to hear their reasons and ideas about why they do what they do. Long-haired Daniel from California and short-cropped Mike from Tennessee got into a lengthy discussion about their country, the two Americas sitting at a table over a pint. If only it were that simple. We walked through the field back to our house, getting chased by only one angry farmer and with only one of us falling into the river and losing their wallet. Elder Mike, a social worker from Canada, has passed out on the steps. Back at the house, we finished the rest of the absinthe, laughing at bad jokes and blessing Peter’s Road Trip. The next morning, Daniel and I inquired about staying longer, and that’s where I am writing this. In a house, somewhere in the Czech countryside, looking out the window at hills and fields, up the road from the eerie ruins of a 13th century castle. Peter is arriving later with another group and then I’m hitching a ride back to the tourists in Prague. It is quiet, beautiful and peaceful. Last night I slept like a baby, and the culture shock is finally being replaced by open-eyed awe and wonder.

Peter’s Resthouse
Dalecin, Czech countryside

Gonzo Gallery for Prague and Beyond

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