Due to the popularity of my blast from the past travel segment, coupled with my lack of time for fresh material, I am going to continue on with the travel journal from 1995. If you've missed the past few posts: So...Enough About Me, Let's Talk About ME - or - Every Day I Pay Attention, Another Day Has Gone By, you should go back RIGHT NOW and read those riveting, life changing posts.
I've fast-rewinded to October 20, 1995. Apparently, I was just arriving in Prague on the night train....
I've been in Prague for 24 hours, it is great so far, although I was scared last night. I was on the last train to Prague, as soon as I stepped off the platform, and into the station, I was mauled by by people begging me (and the other backpackers) to stay in their apartments. They insisted...they even offered to drive us. How convenient! Sure, take my luggage and then slit my throat in the back of your Citroen.
Of course, they disliked me the most because I exchanged words with them. I think their exact words to me were, "Let's see who is laughing tonight when we are sleeping in our beds and you are in the street!" It was strange. They wait for you at the end of the platform and hound you; trying to sell you a room, shoving pictures of apartments in your face. What a turn off. It is almost enough to make you turn around and get right back on the train to Berlin.
I like it here (in Prague) but one week may be too long. Maybe I will go to Poland. Krakow. I like the East, it is nice and cheap. People are goofy looking, but so far, so good. I totally dig the people I've met in the hostels. Vienna - a bunch of good, school girls. Prague - hardcore drunkards. Yesterday, we drank from 8pm until about 3am for 10 Crowns for a 1/2 liter beer. Dirt Cheap.
Tonight, I ate at the Hare Krishna joint. Decent food, all you can eat for $1.50 - what a place! Cheaper than going grocery shopping. I think I am in heaven.
Well, there you have it. Totally true story, I ate at the Hare Krishna temple in Prague. I drank beers all night and I feared that locals would slit my throat in the back of a Citroen. Personally, I like the subtle detail of the Citroen best.
Once again, this was a journal entry from my travels abroad in 1995. To read more posts about my travels, you can read my travel blog by clicking right HERE. To hear me babble, follow me on Twitter.