Weekend

So where to begin?

I believe I left off with our adventure home from Klub Lavka. A lot and not a lot has happened since.

The next day, starving, having not eaten a full meal since my plane ride into Frankfurt, I demanded that Mark and I venture into town to eat a real Czech meal. He was more than thrilled on this idea since he had also not indulged in Czech cuisine. With the help of a Prague travel guide, we found a nice Czech restaurant on the border of Old Town and the Jewish Quarter.

Upon arrival, we both knew the meal would rule. Our newly acquired French friend Claire and our fun Romanian friend Eliza were going to meet us there. (Eliza is also a big fan of Kyuss). Since texting is cheaper than calling in Prague, the replies were spaced out, and me and Mark wound up waiting for over an hour until the girls arrived. To pass the time we had a few beers and ordered a meat tray appetizer. This tray may have had some of the best mustard and cured ham I have ever tasted. Finally, in typical girl fashion the ladies arrived and informed us they weren’t eating. STARVING, Mark and I quickly placed our orders, beef goulash with potato pancakes, and venison goulash with bread, respectively. The meal was incredible and filling.

We paid our tab and walked out onto the rainy streets of the Jewish quarter. I diverged and went to find a café so I could hop on facebook, read e-mails, and post blogs for you lovely people. I expected to find cafes with WIFI on every corner, this was not the case. I wound up wandering for a half an hour until I reached Wenceslas Square and jumped into the first café I found. It wound up being extremely over priced and because of this I was pissed off and left after 20 minutes. Much to my chagrin and pleasure, I came home to a working internet connection in the dorm and spent the rest of the night on facebook and skype catching up with people.

Friday was well spent.

Mark and I went to the center early so I could talk to my advisor and attend an informational meeting for my faculty. When I went to the office the door was locked and there was a sign on the door that I could not read. Everything here is in Czech. God bless full emersion but not being able to read important signs is fucking frustrating. Since Mark had errands to run I told him to go on without me as I camped out infront of the office door hoping to catch my advisor. Sure enough, I was right about the meeting at 14:00. During my wait I met a very friendly Australian who was stoked on the Iowa writing program.

The meeting was rather useless. I already knew everything we were told. However, I did receive a nifty handbook from the University!

I walked the Aussie to the registration building, met up with Mark and we walked around for the better part of an hour trying to find an off-the-beaten-path restaurant. We succeed and had a nice meal of Gulash and garlic soup.

Mark has really been a saving grace here. He has been floating me since Wednesday night and never complains a bit about it. I feel bad every time he pays for my meals. I plan on paying him back in full with interest.

Most of the kids that night planned on going to a nightclub. As all of you know that’s not my bag, so spent an hour looking a pub reviews for Prague, finally settling on one outside of Old Town Square. Yet again, Mark and I boarded the tram and hit the town. The bar was awesome. I wish I could describe it but I would do it no justice. Running on only soup, I got drunk rather quickly so we indulged in onion rings and pretzels. The waitress made fun of my Czech, the bartender was stern and serious, but friendly. We spent 2 hours or so watching hockey and curling on the TV, talking about random things and doing our best New Yorker/New Jersey accents. I have to say mine are not bad, thanks Mom.

Paying our tab of a whopping 15 dollars (3 beers each, pretzels, onion rings, plus an extra beer we didn’t order but said fuck it) we walked into the night. We were met with men giving out pamphlets for hookers, all of who thought I was German. This was disturbing but also funny. At least they didn’t kidnap us and let foreigners pay to torture us (Yo you ever seen that movie Hostel?).

I had seen the same street vendor that Anthony Bourdain went to on next to our night tram stop the previous night so we set out on a quest for fried cheese sandwiches and sausage. Success!!! The fried cheese sandwich may be the best drunk food ever. EVER. Marcos grilled cheese in IC can go to hell. I’d rather pay $1.50 for fried cheese than $4.00 for grilled cheese. While waiting for the tram Mark wandered off and returned saying we should go get some pizza. Who am I to say no to Pizza? The za was decent, but the special hot sauce they dolloped on top was extraordinary. I spent most of the ride home thinking I was going to have a heart attack. My body hadn’t seen that much food for days.

We made it home safely and hit the hay.