Lost in Prague

Today we woke up early after our first really hot night's sleep in the Blue Gnu. It seems we handle cold a bit better than heat, but we're already making a few adjustments and are hopeful we'll improve our warm-weather game.

We wanted to get an early start to try to beat both the heat and what we assumed would be the summer crowds.

Luckily we were parked quite close to Prague, so it didn't take long to reach the Park and Ride. From there we hopped on the metro, then a tram, and finally made the long walk up to Prague Castle.

For those who haven't been, Prague Castle isn't just a castle. It's actually one of the largest ancient castle complexes in the world, dating back to the 9th century, and has been the seat of Czech rulers, kings, and presidents for over a thousand years.

For Cotty, it was a chance to see an impressive historic site.

For me, it was a chance to revisit one of the most memorable locations of my entire life.

We briefly considered spending more time exploring the castle grounds, but the day was heating up quickly, so we decided to continue on to Charles Bridge.

Built in the 1300s, Charles Bridge connects Prague Castle with the Old Town and is lined with statues and centuries of history. These days it's also lined with tourists, musicians, artists, and every variety of interesting human behaviour.

From there we wandered into the Old Town to see the famous Astronomical Clock.

Installed in 1410, it's the oldest astronomical clock still operating in the world. Every hour a little performance takes place, complete with moving figures and a skeleton representing Death.

Unfortunately, the skeleton was absent today. We overheard something about repairs.

We hung around for the noon performance hoping for a slightly better show, but it was a fairly subdued affair. We eventually watched a video online so Cotty would believe me that it is usually a bit more exciting.

After that we headed back to the car with a few practical missions in mind. One of them was finding a second fan for the Blue Gnu, and Cotty managed to track one down. A definite victory considering the weather forecast.

After a small grocery top-up, we pointed the Gnu toward Karlovy Vary.

Cotty was a bit of a hero with the driving while Judi made full use of one of the Blue Gnu's greatest features: the ability for one person to drive while the other has a proper nap. I crashed hard and woke up feeling much more human.

We made it to Karlovy Vary, but didn't quite find what had been described to us, and by that point we were both feeling the pull of the road. We decided to keep going and make up some kilometres toward our next destination and our dear friend the HG.

This may also mark the end of our intensive city sightseeing phase. The next stretch of the trip is looking considerably more loungey. I guess we’ll see - :)

My mum escaped Czechoslovakia in 1948 during the communist takeover. Because of that, getting visas later was always complicated for her. I'd already been there once before with her when I was eleven, but in 1979 we rented a VW Rabbit in Luxembourg—my mum, my brother Noel, his friend Bob, and me. We saw a lot on that trip, but what stuck with me was Prague.

The one thing my mum said was:

"Don't have anything to do with the secret police."

As a teenager, I remember thinking: Yeah, right, Mum.

One day in Prague we were at the castle. We split up—my mum and I together for a while, Noel and Bob wandering off doing their own thing.

My mum and I were walking through a large building when we had a fairly standard mother-teenager argument. Nothing dramatic. Just one of those snippy little fights that seem very important when you're fourteen.

At one point she said, "That's it. I'm not travelling with you anymore."

I was a few steps ahead of her and didn't notice that a guide had closed a huge door between us.

I walked out into the square, turned around to make some clever retort... and she wasn't there.

I froze.

Now, my mum had just announced she wasn't travelling with me anymore, and at fourteen I took that very literally. I thought she meant starting now.

I started calculating my options. Should I go to the exit? Wait? Apologize? Somehow get ahead of this before it got worse?

I ended up at what I thought was the exit and waited.

For five hours.

I know it was five hours because there was a clock across the street and I watched every minute of it.

I didn't speak Czech. I knew "milk," "mother," and I could probably count to ten if nobody was rushing me. I had no money, no idea where we were staying, and no way to explain myself.

Eventually I went back into the square and discovered something that had never occurred to me.

There was another exit.

At that point I figured I should just go back to where I'd been waiting. I had absolutely no better plan.

There were a couple of other complications.

On a previous trip, someone had stolen my jeans, so this time I was wearing my sister's clothes. My sister has always taken very good care of her things.

And after five hours of standing there, I got my period—for only the second time in my life.

I didn't know how to ask for a bathroom.

I couldn't find one.

By then I was lost, scared, broke, and bleeding on my sister's skirt.

I honestly couldn't imagine things getting any worse.

That's when the secret police showed up.

Eventually, two girls came over and tried to help, but they didn't speak English. Then a woman arrived who spoke German. I could understand a little German, but she spoke so quickly that I couldn't keep up.

"Langsamer, langsamer," I kept saying.

She didn't slow down.

Finally I just said, "Slower."

She stopped and asked, "Do you speak German or English?"

"English!"

Relief.

Right then a police car arrived. The woman spoke to the officers and motioned for me to come over.

As I started walking toward them, a red car screeched to a stop.

Two men jumped out, grabbed me, and pushed me inside.

And suddenly I realized I had done exactly what my mother had warned me not to do.

I was in a car with the secret police.

They were shouting at me in Czech.

I froze.

Then they took off back through the castle grounds at what felt like top speed. There were people everywhere, and they had to jump out of the way as the car tore through the crowds.

The crowd parted.

And there was my mum.

I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

"Mummingko! Mummingko!" I shouted, pointing at her.

The car stopped and we all got out.

Oddly, they wouldn't let me go straight to her. Looking back, they probably thought something terrible had happened to me.

Eventually my mum convinced them that I was okay.

The very first thing we did was find a bathroom and wash out my sister's skirt.

Phew.

And phew again.

And yes—she did travel with me again.