Prague: Pt. 2

It has been a crazy week of transition. Adjusting to a new place, currency, and language – the sum of it all has left me little time to write a blog post. But now we are settled in France, and you will be caught up on everything shortly.

In the meantime: Back to Prague!

Our second full day in Prague, Jacob and I decided to cross the Vltava River that splits Prague in half. The city is well known for the many beautiful bridges that span the river – the most famous of which is Charles’ Bridge. 

The bridge is old, beautiful, and provides wonderful views of the city, but the real fun, as we had been informed, was playing “Spot the Pickpocket”.

Unfortunate though it is, Prague is home to many gangs of pickpockets who prey on unsuspecting tourists. (If you plan on visiting Prague don’t be deterred: simply using common sense should save you from any trouble.) In the meantime, you get to go pickpocket hunting. They are surprisingly easy to spot. Shady looking men, who are clearly not tourists, shuffle around crowded areas, gazing intently at groups of people gawking up at buildings or studying maps. Come on pickpockets – could you be any less subtle?

Anyways, avoiding the pickpockets, Jacob and I made our way over to the other side of the river to make a trek up Petrin Hill. Petrin Hill is a large public park that boasts an incredible view of the city from the top, along with an observatory, monastery, and (oddly enough) a miniature Eiffel Tower.

The view was spectacular. 

As was the beer brewed by the monks at the monastery on Petrin Hill. Probably some of the best we had in Prague – and that’s saying a lot. 

Aside from its bridges, Prague is also well known for beer. I can’t claim to be particularly devoted to beer, but my goodness. Prague was poised to change my mind. The beer was plentiful, cheap, and delicious. We drank a lot of beer in Prague (well – a lot of beer for us… which isn’t saying much).

Jacob and I headed to a nearby alehouse for lunch, and after perusing the menu, settled on a plate of Brawn. We did not know what it was, but we had been assured that it was meat, and it was included in the local specialties.

We received this. 

As it turns out, Brawn is another word for Head Cheese:  various bits of pork meat scraped from head, and bound together with gelatin. Flavorful, but not the most appealing texture.  Luckily, we had these to help wash it down. 

After lunch we went to check out the castle, and spent more time wandering through the streets. 

That evening we went to State Opera House to watch a performance of the ballet Giselle. We had picked up two tickets for an incredibly cheap $15 USD.  The ballet was incredible, the music was flawless, and the theater was breath taking. Apparently in Prague, a cheap ticket doesn’t mean you will be showing up for amateur hour.

The next day we left Prague for what turned out to be one of the most memorable connecting flights of our time so far. Stay tuned!

Stockholm

A couple of weeks ago, a friend from college sent us a message out of the blue. It went something like this: "Hey! It's been a while! I hear you are in Sweden - my family lives in Stockholm, you should come visit!".

Needless to say, we jumped on the opportunity, excited to see a friend as well as get an insider's tour of Stockholm.

So on Thursday morning we took the train to Stockholm and were met by our lovely friend Siobhan.

She took us back to her family's apartment, but the word "apartment" doesn't really do it justice. As it turns out her father is a foreign service Diplomat, working at the American Embassy in Sweden. (Actually, he has the exact same job title as my Grandfather - except my Grandfather worked in other countries and back in the 1950's-1970's. It's hugely exciting for Jacob and I, given our deep interest and fascination with the State Department and all things related to Embassies.)

One of the perks of the job is that the Embassy provides you with housing. Nice housing. Housing that is good for entertaining lots of important people (and housing the odd traveler or two).

I'm in heaven here.

Then we went on a walk around Stockholm. It rained.

Jacob and I love Stockholm. It's easy to get around by walking, public transportation, or biking. There is even a wide two-way bike lane on the side of every major road. There are lots of beautiful buildings, and little districts that we can wander in and explore.

By default of our hosts, Jacob and I were invited to a casual barbeque at the American Ambassador's residence.

The Ambassador's residence.

Jacob and I rubbed elbows with Diplomats and Embassy staff, wandered around the gorgeous (embassy provided) 1930's era mansion, and had a long conversation with the Ambassador. (He even commended Jacob and I for our travels, and we got to tell him about my Grandparent's Diplomatic work in the Cold War).

Shall I repeat myself? I'm in heaven. In a dream. And so grateful for this totally un-sought-after and  once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to glimpse into the life of the Foreign Service. It's been incredible so far.

The 9 P.M. Walks

9 P.M. has become a special hour for Jacob and I within the past few days.

It all started when, after an evening of lazing around, I bugged Jacob until he agreed to go on a walk with me. We left the house right before 9 p.m, just as it was beginning to get dark outside.

We turned the corner out of the tree coverage and onto the street, where the view opens up to fields on either side and the road leads up a hill. And then we flipped out.

The sky looked like it was swallowed in fire. We had never seen a sunset that saturated the sky so vibrantly with neon oranges and pinks. We kept walking up the road, getting more and more excited the more we saw of the sunset. Finally we took off running, trying to get to the top of the hill before the sunset was gone.

It was breathtaking. This is what we saw:

The picture is poor quality and taken on a cellphone - and of course you know pictures of sunsets never come close to their real-life splendor. But it still gives you some idea of how spectacular this sunset was: incredible enough to make us run.

The next evening we ventured out at 9 P.M. again, hoping we would find another sunset like the night before. Opting out of running, we took the bikes up the hill, and did not find a sunset.

We found this:

Evening fog was rolling in over the fields, making wispy designs and patterns in the air as it flowed between trees and settled over the grass. Jacob even saw three deer leaping through the fog. We stayed until it was almost completely dark, then rode our bikes back home.

And just for good measure, here is another picture from a recent trip to our favorite lake on a stormy hot day.

It seems like everywhere here is the "scenic route". We've just been rolling in the natural splendor, and it never gets old.

I Want You To Know

I want you to know that Jacob and I are really cool, super attractive, artsy, creative, and perfect in just about every way.

I mean, obviously.

But seriously. I've always hated the blogs where people give off the carefully calculated impression that their life is perfect. That is blatantly untrue. It can't be true, because no one's life is perfect, even when you are traveling the world and taking pretty pictures (like the one above).

As amazing as travel is - the thrill of new places and cultures, the beauty of new sights, the experience of new foods - it can all give way very easily to a sense of restlessness. Homesickness. Purposelessness. (Not sure if that is a word). Living out a dream still has it's ups and downs.

So, now that we are on the same page regarding our awesomeness, here are some pictures.

Thursday evening our hosts threw a little party for all of their house guests. (Besides us, there was family visiting from Washington D.C.). In Sweden there is a traditional summer celebration meal: The Crayfish Feast.

The Crayfish Feast is held in August to mark the beginning of crayfish season. The crayfish are served cold after being boiled in vinegar, dill, and other good stuff. They are traditionally served with Aquavit - a caraway-infused vodka (really good - tastes sort of like whiskey). I couldn't believe it when I saw the platter of crayfish - they looked like plastic.

After our first course of crayfish and vodka, we moved on to another traditional Swedish meal: Pickled Herring.

Pickled Herring is right up there next to Swedish Meatballs on the scale of All-Things-Swedish. It is fish which has been preserved in a vinegary-sugary brine, sometimes with a sauce like honey mustard. It is served with boiled potatoes, red onion, and sour cream. All together it's very good.

To further our education, we learned some traditional Swedish drinking songs. I can't actually sing the words for you, but I can follow along the tune while making convincing Swede-like noises.

On Friday Jacob and I took the bicycles 4 km. out to a nearby lake. It was my turn to take the little yellow bike, the same bicycle that Jacob had taken 20 km. to Skinnskatteberg just a few days earlier. Little did I know - that bike is the two-wheel equivalent of a clown car. I barely made it to the lake, hunched over a bicycle intended for someone a foot shorter than me. I still can't figure out how Jacob made it 20 km.

It rained on us just as we got to the lake, but cleared up fairly quickly.

A picture cannot do it justice.
Now please comment and tell us how cool we are.