Swan Beach

"Me thinks that the moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow." ~Henry David Thoreau

March 1, 2013
I woke up today feeling achy and stiff. It’s an unfortunate side effect from the anxiety attacks. Even though I’d slept, it hadn’t been very a restful night’s sleep. I ate a granola bar and finished blogging about the attack. I hesitated to share it, but I realized it was an obstacle I was going to be proud to have overcome, so I recorded it, simply for the sake of having it in my own memory bank.

When I got on the internet, I found that I had a note from Lad’ka about the trip. The train to Dresden left Saturday at 6:31am. There were only two trams from the dorm to the train station before that: one at 5:28 and one at 5:49. We decided we should take the 5:28. I messaged Thibaut to let him know. He replied and said his roommates were going to join us.

I stayed in bed a bit longer, still exhausted and fatigued from the night. It’s hard to wake up from an attack. Everything seems stressful and I feel like I’m waiting for the pain to return. As I was messing around on the computer, I got a note from Thibaut asking me if I wanted to go to the book store with him. Figuring getting out would help me get my mind off of things, I agreed and met him.

We took the tram to the train station and transferred to the subway. As we rode along, Thibaut asked me about public transportation in America, and I told him it was an area in which we were significantly lacking behind Europe.

To get to the bookstore, which was over in the Mala Strana neighborhood, we had to transfer to the B line. At the station, while we waited for the tram, a woman came up to us and started speaking Czech. While I didn’t know the exact words she was saying, I understood what she meant. She wanted to know if this train would take her to the Florenc stop. I tried to communicate that it wouldn’t but I couldn’t find the right words exactly. She got frustrated and walked off, but I was kind of pleased with myself for understanding both her and the subway system.

When we got to the destination and came up from the subway, Thibaut asked me if I recognized the area. It looked familiar to me, but I wasn’t sure if I’d actually been there before. Part of me felt like it might have been the subway station we got on at that first night in Prague (on our way to the dorms from the airport.) But then again, it might have been just a picture I saw in a book. The iconic statue that through me off was the tattered Czechoslovakian flag in the center of the square. I just couldn’t place where I’d seen it before.

As we walked around the Mala Strana area, I was again reminded of why this neighborhood is so popular with tourists. It is unlike anything in America. The cobblestone roads are narrow, the streets are uncluttered, and the shops are unique and quirky.

When we came to a small opening, I felt more oriented. We were north of town, and the clearing revealed a beach and a stunning view of the Charles Bridge. The beach was covered with tourists, who were captivated not by the view of the bridge, but by the large flock of swans playing on the beach.

Everyone says that swans are mean animals and that was certainly my observation. When they arch themselves and stretch out, they can probably look nearly 5 feet tall. They also run about as fast as a dog, and aren’t hesitant to get up close and personal with people they think have food.

At the same time, they were beautiful. Some of the ones that were molting looked like critters from The Ugly Duckling while others were the majestic white birds that artists paint and poets characterize.  

After taking some pictures of the birds, we headed to the bookstore. On our way there, Thibaut showed me a couryard that he said was quite famous. In fact, I had read about this site in my book. It was famous for the fountain of two men peeing. There were two features about the fountain that the book had failed to mention : first, the statues is not very big.probably 5.5 feet at it's tallest point. Secondly, parts of the statue are animated and move when water flows through them.

Many tourists were laughing and photographing the statue. We took a few pictures before continuing on to the bookstore.

The store was called Shakespeare & Sons and sold both new and used books, all by English, French, and American authors.  Thibaut went to the French section while I looked through some of the English books. Some of what I found was interesting:

• The Europeans do not give America much credit for the fall of communism. From their perspective, it was the rebels on the ground that brought the USSR to a collapse, not any action of the United States. While they admit America kept their nose in the game, many of them report America’s intervention as “a failure” and “a lot of show with no substance.” They laugh at Regan’s remarks to “tear down that wall” and name Vietnam as just one example of America being unsuccessful in stopping the Red Terror.
• Authors like Clive Cussler and James Patterson were displayed under classics. I’m not sure how James Patterson can be a classic when he cranks out a new book every week, but both American Authors were quite popular. I’d say Cussler probably had a bit more display room that Patterson, but they were shelved on the same display.
• In America, I get the impression that Shakespeare’s tragedies and comedies are the more popular works. In this shop, the histories certainly took up most of the shelf. I didn’t see a single copy of Romeo and Juliet.
• The new books were very inexpensive compared to American prices. They were probably $4 or $5 USD. The used books on the other hand were quite expensive. They were $2.50-$3.50 USD.

After Thibaut had bought his book, we walked back across the Charles Bridge, stopping to get one of those bread rolls cooked over charcoal. This batch was cold and they weren’t nearly as tasty without being served warm.

“Hey,” I said about half way across the bridge. “It’s March today!”

“Yes, it is,” Thibaut said.

I smiled. One month down! That was both an exciting and terrifying revelation. I was just about ¼ of the way to seeing my family and friends again, but ¼ of my time in Europe had flown by.

As we walked back to town, we were momentarily turned around. There was a fork in the road that we thought would both lead to Old Town. The way we chose definitely didn’t and we snaked back through side streets to find our way.

We cut through Old Town and up towards Wenceslas. We spent some time wandering around the market in the side streets. Where for the past three weeks merchants had displayed art work and crafts, now farmers were bringing out fresh fruit. The berries not only looked amazing, but their smell was intoxicating. Had we not been going to Dresden the next day, I would have spent some money to buy some.

When we got to Wenceslas, I asked Thibaut if he’d mind if I stopped for some ice cream. He said that he didn’t and we both went back to the sweet shop Lucas had told me about. I ordered a scoop of strawberry and he got a scoop as well. We sat down at the same table I’d been at the day before and enjoyed the dessert.

When I was about halfway through my cone, Thibaut looked at me and said, “Slow down!”

It was then that I realized how fast I ate. I guess I was aware of it. Back home, I’d often noticed that we finish meals in 10-15 minutes. Here, I’ve eaten enough meals by myself, I haven’t had any frame of reference to compare it to. But it was true; I was nearly done while he tasted each and every bite of the gelato.

When we’d both finished, we caught the tram back to the dorms. It was crowded and we wound up sitting on opposite sides of the tram car. I stared out the window as we rode along. Thibaut told me that he had to stop at the store to get cottage cheese and he hopped off a few stops before the dorms. We said goodbye and that we’d see each other tomorrow.

When I got back to the dorm, I decided to do some laundry. Once I had loaded my darks into the machine, I laid down for a bit to blog and rest up for tomorrow. Ivana called me and invited to meet up with her, Zuzzana, Lad’ka, and Kevin. I agreed.

We had a few communication errors in where to meet and when, and the fact I was waiting for my laundry didn’t help at all. I eventually met up with them and some of their friends at Wenceslas square. We went to a pub and everyone got beers. I had Mirinda while Lad’ka had some sort of Sprite-like drink. We only stayed for about 30 minutes and then she suggested that we should go home to get some sleep for Dresden.

On the tram ride home we talked about having to cook in the dorms.

“I am a terrible cook,” I told her. “I burn pasta all the time!”

She laughed. “And pancakes? How do you make pancakes in America? With milk and eggs?”

This time, I laughed. “I make them with powder,” I said. “It’s like a mix that you just add water too.” She laughed again.

“I am so stressed about waking up tomorrow,” she said. “Are you sure you want to?”

I realized in that moment that there was a cultural difference between me, and the rest of the group. To me, waking up early was a necessary evil in order to do as much as possible.  I had even joked when talking to Kevin about it that, “I’m American! If it doesn’t involve pain, it’s not worth doing.” To Lad’ka however, it was just an unnecessary frustration.

“In America,” I said before catching myself, “well I’m not sure about all of America, but I’ve definitely heard my friends and family say it…we have this saying for when you know you have to get up early and you won’t get much sleep. We say ‘sleep fast.’”

“Sleep fast?” she repeated.  I nodded. She giggled. “Sleep fast. I like that.”

As we approached her station, which was one before mine, she reminded me about being on time so we didn’t miss the tram. She told me to check with the others so they would be on time too.

“Will do,” I said. “I won’t do laundry in the morning either so I’m not running late this time.”

“Good,” she said.

As she got off, I told her, “Sleep fast.”

“You too,” she said.

I rode the tram to my stop and got off. Since I hadn’t had dinner yet, I decided to run over to the restaurant across the street to get something to eat. The man at the piano was strumming away his usual repertoire of songs. I realized that most of them were tunes from My Fair Lady.  For dinner, I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu which was basically spaghetti in a pepper sauce. It was tasty, but I was suddenly aware of how fast I was eating.

After I finished, I paid the waitress but she left the table before I could tip her. I went back by counter and handed her a few coins. She was clearly grateful and thanked me.

Heading back to the dorm, I got ready for the next day. Setting my alarm for 4:45am, I went to bed to prepare for my first adventure out of the Czech Republic.