When I met up with the group again by the baptismal font,
Lad’ka said, “I think we can go to lunch in an hour.” It was a little after
11:00 so that sounded good to everyone.
“What do we do next?” Thibaut asked.
“I’d like to go tour that fort,” I said. The group agreed
and we headed out.
When we went outside, not only had the sun come out, but the
air had warmed up quite nicely. It wasn’t warm, but I wasn’t cold at all. All
around, there was blue sky and sunlight. It felt so much happier and alive than
the weather had for the past three weeks.
“The weather got quite nice while we were in the church,”
Leo said.
“Praise God,” Thibaut said. I smiled.
Behind the decorative steps we’d walked up before, we found
the entrance to the fort. Dresden, at one time, had been completely walled in
and surrounded by a moat. The wall was a fortress that housed guards and
artillery to protect the city from Turks and Crusaders. While much of the
fortress was destroyed in the war and has been torn down, the remaining parts have
been turned into a museum showcasing the history of life as a guard in the
fort.
When we entered, we found ourselves in a small gift shop.
Lad’ka translated to the woman behind the counter that we needed five student
tickets. The woman named a price and Lad’ka paid, not realizing she was paying
for all of us. We told her we would pay her back when we had smaller
denominations of money.
The student pass included audio-guides. In each room, there
was number to enter into the remote-like device. It was then held up to the ear
and various music and narrators would paint a picture of what life would have
looked like in that room. I felt like a spy walking through the fort with the
audio-guide. It would have instructions like “Look to the left. Walk through
the door, down the hall, and when you enter the large room, press the yellow
button. Watch the display, and then enter number 9 into the audio remote.” Some
of the explanations for the various rooms seemed a bit long, but the atmosphere
was amazing. Photos were allowed in the fort and I took close to 100 of them.
From holes in the wall cut to shoot out arrows, to storage rooms and
drawbridges, the fort was practically plucked form a medieval fantasy.
Probably because I was taking so many pictures, the group
finished before I did. When I asked them if they’d been waiting long, Lad’ka
said no but Thibaut said it was about 10 minutes. Either way, everyone was
hungry so we went to find a restaurant.
“Do you want to eat in town or in the mall?” Lad’ka asked.
We all agreed in town. “Ok,” she said. “But expensive for me is over 10 euros.”
“We probably need to get away from the town center to get
cheaper food,” Thibaut offered. We walked around looking at a few menus that
were hung in restaurant windows.
“Let’s try to avoid places that say ‘we speak English,’” I
offered. “They will probably be more expensive.”
As we wandered around, we didn’t have much luck at first. I
suggested we ask someone for a recommendation, but Lad’ka did not like that
idea.
At one point, when we went to cross the street, a passing
car leaned on his horn at us. “I forgot,” I said. “I was told several times
before I left home ‘Do not jay walk in Germany.’”
“Why is that?” Leo asked.
“I guess it’s just not part of the culture,” I said.
After we’d walked a few blocks out of the center, we did
find a restaurant with a German menu card that looked to be fairly inexpensive.
Looking over the menu, we recognized schnitzel as traditional German food.
“How does this look?” I asked Lad’ka.
“I am just so hungry,” she moaned. We decided to go inside.
When we entered, a woman by the door handed us these plastic
cards—almost like a gift card. Lad’ka, Thibaut, and I had never seen anything
like this, but Lee and Leo said that they were used to track your order. Sure
enough, when we ordered, the waitress would scan our individual cards and type
in what we had ordered to the card. When it came time to check out, they just
scanned our card to give a total.
Looking at the menus in German we were very confused. Lad’ka
translated a bit for us pointing out dishes that would be more traditional German
food. Most of them were schnitzel.
“What is schnitzel?” Thibaut asked.
“It’s like a cooking style,” I said.
The menu had lots of different schnitzel styles from across
Germany (and a few for tourists like “New York Schnitzel” and “Hawaiian Schnitzel.”)
Lad’ka finally had the idea to ask the waitress
for English menus. It turned out, they had them and we were able to get a
better idea of what we were ordering.
“Anything to drink?” the waitress asked.
The group all shook their heads and she walked away. I was
shocked. It had never dawned on me that you would go to a restaurant and not
get something to drink, not even water. When she came back, I ordered a drink.
I wasn’t sure exactly what it was from the name (Lad’ka said the closest English
term would be “Cherry Kiss”) but it was fantastic. A nice blend of cherry juice
and pineapple juice, it was so sweet it shouldn’t be legal.
When the waitress came back, to take our orders, we all got
some variation of schnitzel. I got a cooking style from northern Germany. We had
the choice of meat and Lad’ka told us that traditional schnitzel was cooked
with veal. Everyone else ordered chicken, but I went ahead and got the veal.
“In America,” I said, “you can eat veal, but it’s a little
bit taboo.”
“Why is that?” Lad’ka asked.
“People think it’s kind of cruel,” I explained.
“That makes no sense,” Lee said. “You eat chicken, right? Why
would you not eat everything else? It’s crazy.”
While we waited for our food, the conversation picked up
quite a bit.
“Why did you choose Prague?” I asked. They all gave the
reasons that were common answers. Central for travel, cheap to live, good beer.
“How about you?” Lee asked.
“Honestly, I didn’t know a thing about Prague when I chose
it,” I said. “But it is central and I wanted to travel, and when I discovered
the exchange rate I was very happy.”
“And the cheap beer too!” Leo joked.
“I actually don’t drink,” I said. I got the same wide-eyed
expression that comment normally earned.
“I never drank back home, and I don’t like the beer, and,” I
hesitated. “I certainly have an addictive personality. I’ve seen too many
people get into trouble with alcohol so I just decided not to do it.”
Our food came shortly after that. The portions were huge.
Mine came with a side of a pepper soup and red cabbage. Lee took out his camera
and took a picture of his. We all laughed, but then joined him in photographing
our own meals.
“I have an advisor back home who photographs his food all
the time,” I said. “We’ve all made fun of him for it.”
“I thought only Japanese tourists took pictures of their
food,” Leo said.
“It’s called food porn,” Lee said. “Taking pictures of your
meal. Food porn.”
The food was amazing. The schnitzel was tender and juicy,
and the soup was spicy and flavorful. What surprised me the most was the red
cabbage. I’ve always shied away from vegetables, and when I bit into it, I
expected to gag. To my surprise it was sweet and tasty. I wound up eating all
of it as well.
As we ate, we talked about a wide variety of topics.
Favorite TV shows were particularly interesting. Shows like Dexter, How I Met Your Mother, and The Big Bang Theory topped the list. We
also talked about drugs, and learned that in Singapore, possession of marijuana
can get you the death penalty.
After we finished eating, we started talking about the plan
for the afternoon.
“We need to try some German chocolate,” I said.
“Why’s that?” Thibaut asked.
“It’s supposed to be world famous, isn’t it?” I said.
“Oh yes,” Lad’ka said with a wide eyed smile. “Is very good.
And I need to shop as well. I need to buy some cosmetics. They are cheaper in
Germany and better quality.”
We left the table and went up front to pay the waitress. She
scanned our cards and we each paid. I was the only one who left a tip. Thibaut
told me, “It is optional.” With the change I got, I was also able to pay Lad’ka
back for the museum.
All paid up and ready to go, we headed outside, ready to
continue the adventure.
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