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Wow. It's been a very, very long time since I blogged. And boy, does it feel good to be back in the saddle, er keyboard, tapping away in the dead of night in some annoymous hotel room, surrounded by stale air and shades of beige.
Schiphol was chaos. There was the biggest queue of people I've ever seen queuing up to check in at KLM-incompetence. I'd already printed my boarding pass but the royal blue clad clipboard monkeys tried to make me me walk miles to get round to the baggage drop off so I ducked under the barrier and was almost executed by a greasy haired KLM-er with delusions of power.
"Do you want to miss your flight ma'am?" sneered greasy haired KLM-er, blocking my way.
"No, that's why I just ducked under the barrier," I snarled back.
"What you did wasn't very nice," he continued.
"Pah!" I said.
"I can make you miss your flight you know..."
And when he said that, I barged past him dismissing him with my hand. Fortunately, he got a VERY IMPORTANT message on his walkie talkie and he didn't come after me.
Fortunately, I was not actually flying with KLM-incompetence but with Czech Air, which is a much nicer flying experience all round, right down to the leathery pastry they give you in place of KLM-incompetence's packet of Tuc biscuits.
I caused much confusion at the hotel by insisting on a double bed rather than twin beds as I have a tendency to dream about falling off cliffs when forced to sleep in beds that are less wide than I am long and this, as you can imagine, leads to me falling out of bed on a regular basis during aforementioned dreams of cliff falls.
But the girl checking me in thought I meant that I wanted twin beds, spent ten minutes trying to find a clean room with two beds in it and then asked me how many keys I wanted. When I said just one, thanks, she looked at me like I'd swallowed the large flowery decorations adorning the reception and then regurgitated them upon her shiny leather signature mat. Anyway, we soon sorted out that I wanted one bed and off I trotted to my room.
Unfortunately, that room had the hotel's entire heating system running through its walls, and there was a constant roar of a furnace growling and rattling throughout the bowels of the building. So off I trotted back down to the reception and now I am in a room that doesn't growl and - bonus - has a bed that's definitely wider than I am long and six pillows. I think I'm going to wedge myself in the centre of the bed with them, just incase I start dreaming about BASE jumping or something.
So from my miniscule afternoon tour of Prague I can tell you that it's quite stunning - amazing architecture, little cobbled streets as well as wide avenues and squares - but is absolutely packed with mobs of Poles, Spanish and Italians in giant gangs masquerading as 'walking tours'.
Lunch was eaten at the least touristy place we could find in the short amount of time we had. I had a rather tasty spinach and cheese pancake. This bottle of ketchup's name made me laugh:
But not as much as the name of this shop did:
And actually, nowhere near as much as this sandwich that I spotted in the airport did:
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