We arrived at Stansted Airport at 5am. The air was brisk, and the sun had barely risen. This was the start of our much anticipated Eastern European Odyssey. We had just seventeen days to visit twelve different countries. This was to be the first real taste of backpacking for Danny and Catz, and Danny had risen to the occasion in spectacular style. Anticipating that he would be frowned upon by more seasoned travellers, Danny had ditched his holdall, and had acquired the most audacious looking backpack I have ever seen. The size of the pack was impressive enough, but it was the geometry of the pack that was truly astounding. It protruded so far outwards from his back, that he was forced to bend almost double in order to prevent himself falling over backwards. Catz, meanwhile was walking unhindered, holdall on shoulder, wondering now, more than ever, why Danny had been trying to persuade him to buy a backpack for the last month.
After some lengthy delays at the check in desk (mainly due to Danny's backpack getting jammed on the conveyor belt), we were through to the departure lounge. We had to board the airport shuttle to get to the next terminal. Danny let off a trade mark fart, which going on the reaction of the people on board, infiltrated the entire shuttle. Thankfully, there were no such repeat performances on the plane, at least none that warranted the release of the oxygen masks, and we landed safely in Prague.
We were too early to check into our hostel, so we dumped our bags and went in search of Praha-hlavni nadrazi, Prague's main train station. The station was not as straight forward to navigate as we had hoped. It was a vast building, with dozens of different ticket booths to choose from. Danny soon got fed up of trying to speak to the ticket clerks and becoming increasingly hot and flustered decided to buy an ice cream to cool himself down. This didn't have the desired effect. Half of his ice cream fell onto the station floor and the stall owner was quick to make Danny clean up his mess. Bending down, he scraped the half melted ice cream from the station floor with his bare hands. This, as you can imagine, provided much amusement for Catz and I.
We eventually came across a booth with a large queue of people with backpacks. We joined the back of the queue and were pleased to discover that we had found the international ticket booth. We were soon in possession of three one way tickets to Bratislava, leaving at 7:30 am the following morning.
Outside the station was yet another lady selling ice creams. Only, this one was in a much better mood than the one Danny encountered (see below)
On our way back to Wenceslas Square, we noticed how many girls there were with big boobs. Catz explained to us that this was probably because the Czechs are a beer drinking race, and the yeast in the beer makes the boobs grow. From that point on the word "yeast" became our code word for boobs.
We stopped in Wenceslas square for our first beer of the trip. We got less than a pint for £2. If this was a sign of things to come, we were going to have a very sober trip. We went to a nice deli style cafe for lunch, which came recommended by Dean, a cricket mate that works in Prague. Being vegetarian, I ordered what appeared to be cheese on toast, only to discover some ham lurking beneath the cheese. This was to be the fitst of several meat situations I would have to contend with on our journey.
After lunch we headed back to The Old Prague Hostel, to get showered and changed, ready for a night out in Prague. We were sharing our room with a ginger Scottish lad called Woof (according to Danny's notes anyway), and an American guy with long hair. Danny asked the American guy how long he had been in Prague and he replied "a week". Danny then asked him what he had been up to and he replied "not a lot". Going by Danny's reaction, it was clear that he was not impressed with this laid back approach to travelling.
We spent the afternoon visiting Prague Castle and Charles Bridge. Both were nice enough but both were heaving with tourists, and we found it much more enjoyable strolling around the back streets, where we discovered "Prague's Oldest Pub". After sampling a couple of local beers, we were all much in need of the loo. We found one, but had to pay the equivalent of two pence to use it. Ever true to his motto, "look after the pennies and the pounds will look after you", Danny refused to pay the two pence, vowing that he would never pay to use a toilet. Considering the journey we has ahead of us, these were bold words indeed.
Danny in "The Oldest Pub in Prague"
Prague Train Station
On our way back to Wenceslas Square we came across a car parked in the middle of the road. Crossing the street, we heard a loud bang. Looking back, we saw a motorcyclist on the floor. He casually got up, brushed himself down and continued on his way. We had arranged to meet Dean under the Astronomical clock in Wenceslas Square. He took us to a nearby restaurant, where we had a well required meal. We explained to Dean our Yeast theory and he confirmed to us the calibre of Prague girls. Dean was good enough to treat us to the meal, which meant we had a few extra Crown's to spend on beer.
On the way back to the hostel, we stopped at an off license and bought bottles of Branik, which came to the equivalent of just 20 pence a bottle. This was more like it, just ten per cent the price of the beers we had at the Irish bar. We drank our bottles of Branik in the common room and played our first game of cheat. Despite never playing the game before, Catz took an early lead in what was to become a 17 day long cheat marathon. Fuelled by Branik, we left the hostel in high spirits and headed into the unknown world of Prague by night.
Upon reaching Wenceslas Square, we were ambushed by strip joint PR's offering us ridiculously cheap cocktails. We ignored all such offers, and carried on our way, in search of a safer option. Danny became a little concerned to find what appeared to be water coming out of a light as he took a video of Wenceslas Square (we were all quite drunk and it did look like water at the time).
As we walked further, we found ourselves becoming increasingly immersed in the Prague underworld. We were approached by a North African immigrant trying to sell us hash. In our drunken state, we jokingly enquired how much he wanted, at which point he produced a chunk of the stuff the size of a house brick. Surrounded by shady looking Russian Mafia henchmen and haggard old street prostitutes, we decided to scarper. We eventually found a nice looking cocktail bar called Bombay where we sampled some fine tasting Mojitos in the company of some fine looking women. Our confidence high, we decided to strut our stuff on the dance floor. Our old school moves didn't go down too well, and we soon had the dance floor to ourselves. We eventually ran out of Crowns and Danny and I hit the kebab shop whilst Catz went for a Catnap.
Two hours later, we woke to the sound of our phone alarms. Hung over and tired, we were all looking forward to getting on the train and falling asleep. We didn't anticipate getting to the train would prove such a mission. We got well and truly lost on our way to the station, and arrived with just ten minutes to spare. We then had the task of navigating our way through the station itself.
In our haste to find the correct platform Danny approached what looked like a train driver. He was in uniform and had a flat cap on. When he turned around, it was quite clear that this poor chap had a dissability and was most unlikely to understand Danny's Suffolk accent.
Catz and I left Danny to it and managed to find our platform. We settled into our carriage and anxiously waited for Danny. With just minutes before the train left, we spotted Danny. He was bent double, with his new found friend following close behind. Waving goodbye, he boarded the train and we were on our way to Slovakia. We were just preying Danny's new friend wasn't driving the train! Next (Slovakia)
