Czech Please

I thought I would actually sit down and type something in my blog because I haven’t done for a long time. I kept making the excuse to people that I hadn’t done anything interesting enough to write about for ages but I’m boring even myself now with that reason, plus I have actually done lots of stuff, it’s just laziness and TV preventing me from writing! So I’m going to have a bit of hardcore Intense Mint Lindt chocolate and tell you about my visit to Prague…

SO, Dobrey-Den!- that mean’s Hello in Prague-ish. I have been back a week now from a trip to Prague with my Aunty under the guise of reckying possible locations for her business clients to do conferences. I don’t think she has any intention, or reason, to use Prague for this, but by having a brief tour around a 5* Spa Hotel and convincing the manager that it was definitely a place “we’d” (cos I was OBVIOULSY a business partner duh) seriously consider, we got to stay in spa luxury for 5 days for FREE.

So we took full advantage of the spa facilities and I have never felt so pampered before. After having a treatment on some part of body DAILY, I feel somewhat neglected in the week I’ve been back. Rubbing on some Boots own exfoliater in a small luke-warm bath under the glare of an energy saving bulb just doesn’t feel quite the same.
My aunt and I had a dual body exfoliation at the spa, which meant we were being scrubbed at the same time in a shared room. There was massive giggle potential, especially after being presented with some awfully large paper thongs to wear during the treatment, but we managed to keep it together. I had a very charming young man who could not speak a single word of English but had very nicely manicured toe-nails (I spent a LOT of time looking at his feet through the hole in the massage bed) and VERY large strong hands- God, I sound like a horny old lady, he was very u-hem good at his trade, talking as a professional myself errr…
So after being scrubbed, all the grit was wiped off with warm towels and then this honey stuff was smoothed on all over (I spent a lot of time subtly manoeuvring myself to stop the paper(probably now translucent)thong from exposing my pubes) We were then wrapped in cling film and left to bake for 20 minutes gas mark 4.
I didn’t favour the cling film effect personally, not being too much of a fan of enclosed spaces at the best of times. It was made worse, I think, by being convinced that it was a “treat” and that I should be the most relaxed I’d ever felt… It was just a little warm and greasy for my liking. Anyway, after being unable to scratch my face for 20 minutes because my arms were pinned to my side, the strong- hands boy told us to shower all the honey stuff off and then have an all over body massage for another hour ughghg luxury this is making me sick writing this now… Boo Hoo for being back in shitty old Seaford.
Just to rub the sickness in I also had a facial and a pedicure, plus at least twice daily usage of the sauna, steam room, Jacuzzi and swimming pool. One day I got a little carried away and stayed in the sauna sweating out for so long that all the veins in my knees dilated and came to the surface, obviously fucking desperate to lose some heat! I was genuinely scared for a while that I had permanently scarred my legs with a red web of old lady veins. I have a picture but it was taken a while after the initial fright so most of the redness has worn off…
We had Italian on the first day in the newer part of the town. I nearly had my bag stolen by some guy pretending to do up his shoe lace, but really scoping out the contents of my hand bag which was blatantly open. I’m not very good at the city thing. In my local pub you can leave anything anywhere- bags of shopping, fags, sunglasses, money on the table and nothing ever happens to it. I wouldn’t say I was naïve; it just takes me a while to adjust to more edgy city surroundings nowadays.
There are sausages everywhere in Prague, literally I’d say there is one sausage outlet every ten minutes along a street. You never need be without a sausage in your hand. I wonder if you did the tourist trail eating a sausage at every stand and shop, how many sausages it would take to see the sights of Prague… just a thought. We purchased a top-class cured and peppered sausage from a local deli as a present for my step dad. Regrettably, when we left we forgot it was wrapped up in a paper bag and stuffed into the top of the mini-bar in the hotel room. By the time we came back to pick our bags up and go to the airport, the whole thing had got out of proportion and I just couldn’t bring myself to ask them at reception if they had found my sausage!
We went to see a few modern art galleries but I have to say that just walking around Prague is better than any gallery. I did seem to be looking UP for most of the time. The hotel and shop fronts are so beautiful and individual, plus there are spires and domed ornate structures EVERYWHERE. The sky line, especially from the castle, is just pure fairy-tale. I sound like an excerpt from the Timeout guide to Prague, but it is actually true- I’m really looking forward to visiting again and taking my friends there, I know they would all just love it. Anyway, the Timeout guide did prove useful on the last night when we were in desperate need of a curry. Apparently there’s only one curry house in the whole of Prague, which I found hard to believe, but could have explained how this shit-hole we went to managed to stay open! It was called “Himalaya” and was in the hippyish bit of the city. We were alone on the lower level of the restaurant, joined by two very loud inane American girls upstairs. I think they were literally sitting ON TOP of us and there was some weird balcony arrangement going on which meant we were practically IN their conversation. There wasn’t much to hear, although I was mildly amused when after about half an hour of deliberation and discussion over the intricacies of the various delights on the menu, they finally settled on “2 chicken currys”. Bland.
Anyway, I had to show the waitress what tonic water was from the fridge, but it wasn’t her fault as the Indian, English and Czech language mix was pretty fucked up and I was getting confused trying to communicate myself. We had a starter and were then presented with a solo poppadum as the next course. It was all a bit strange and the poppadum has been microwaved for too long or something, but we went along with it. Next was the ridiculously large oval plate of chicken biriani (which was just for me but could have fed 4 people) and my Aunts dahl and orange microwaved rice and the BLANDEST vegetable curry known to man. Nursing home special, it wasn’t a Dansak that’s for sure YA YA. Anyway, we ate it and it didn’t really make the cold go away and I swear I got the shits from it, but I guess that’s what you get for being so fucking western and DEMANDING food from exotic continents at least once a week…
The good thing about going away with my aunt and not my friends or Luke was that I got nicely pressured into doing things I probably wouldn’t have done otherwise. We spent a really long day hiking around parks, crossing bridges and walking round the entire castle-which is enormous. We were walking back to the hotel feeling ratty and tired, and came across a concern of Mozart’s Requiem performed by the Prague national choir (or something equally impressive?!) in St Nicholas’s church. My aunt apparently loves this piece of music so we just paid and went it. It was a bit of a sudden culture attack, as I have never really been to anything classical or serious like that and wasn’t sure how to behave. I’ve always thought that sort of classical thing is quite sombre and I’m in constant fear of needing to make a loud noise or laugh or do something disruptive. The church was massively impressive- Baroque design- so really garish, very gold, cherubs everywhere, very extreme but good. I’ll put in a picture. It was fantastic anyway, it sounds cheesy but the hair on my neck was standing up at times. It so good I couldn’t quite get my head around the fact that the choir were ACTUALLY singing it… I guess I’m just not used to hearing that kind of stuff live, it was a brilliant experience.
I got a really bad cold on the last day so spent the time before the airport feeling like my head was stuffed with foliage and just wanting to sit down and stare a lot. I have been to the doctors since I came back and have been given steroids to give me strength to hack up the shit sitting on my chest, so it turns out I was actually REALLY ill. I felt a bit bad about making it shit for my aunt, but I don’t think she minded. We had a 3 hour long lunch on the last day at the Kampa Modern Art museum restaurant which is on a balcony overlooking the river. It was a lovely day and we had creative modern art salads which were delicious. We had Mojitos and good pudding and espresso and sat on a soft settee- it was a really nice time.
Anyway, I feel like I could drivel on for ages about my time but I have been writing for so long now that I feel like I can’t differentiate between what actually might be of interest to anyone else and what’s just a stream of stoned consciousness- which this may well all be anyway! What about if I just say this… Other main highlight’s included having a Pork Escalope topped with a perfectly square bit of ham, buying a hand carved Marionette puppet, a boat ride down the river at night and a weird midnight feast in our room involving Saucrout (?) and cheese triangles. It was a good time-it made me happy and inspired.
I’m going to spend the rest of this evening sitting and not thinking of food, as I’m on a diet and I am determined to make temptation my bitch. I’m all about sensations it seems and The Lindt intense mint just wasn’t enough.