Bucket List 1 – Day 3 and home

I am weary and would like to be home …

Day 3 – My anxiety is back. Wonderful. Wish I could switch it off for while. Always worse when I wake. So I have to take some time before I can leave my hotel room. I have things in place to protect me. Making sure I’m not thrown out into the world and let things get too bad.

I get the tram from my hotel to the city centre. It’s a beautiful day and the place is packed. I see kids running after bubbles that a guy has made with long piece of rope and a bucket of soapy water. Chasing bubbles. When did life get so complicated? Chasing bubbles.

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I try not to let myself get too down. I know I’m in a wonderful city and so much to see. I walk to the Old Town Square and decide to spend some money on a tour in an old car. Except that car looks like the one Hitler rode into Vienna. All I need is a long leather coat and Chaplin tache.

Historical and cultural sensitives aside I’m suspended in a hour of just amazing architectural beautiful. Prague is a stunning city. The mixture of baroque, Romanesque and ultra modern is combined in direct ways. You get sense of the city’s inportance in European culture and some would say the world.

Leaving the car I find a place to eat and stumble upon an Irish bar and inavertantly sat next to three guys from home who are decidedly rather pissed. I ramp up my Geordie accent so they know I am one of them. If they work out I am ONE of THEM they might not be so eager to chat.

They order another round of sambucas and make crude and rather hideously lewd remarks about the waitress. Luckily not to her face. That would have ended in an entirely different scenario.

I make my excuses and lie saying ‘Seeya later lads …’ hopefully hell would freeze over first. If that’s what it’s like to be a Brit abroad I’m thoroughly ashamed.

Walking more I become tired. My body mass index is equal to the national debt of a small country. In fact I’m likened to a small country. Sometimes without the ‘try.

What would I give to be in my own bed? Cool, soft and warm. I am weary perhaps not tired. I have had a nice time. It’s been a long weekend it certainly feels like I have been here longer.

Food and then I wait for the transport back to the airport. I am hoping that the crazy guys I met in the Irish bar don’t spot me. Maybe they were so drunk they won’t remember me.

(final part coming soon)

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