Prague, Take One

We just can’t seem to have a vacation that doesn’t reek of Chevy Chase in the “Lampoon’s Family Christmas.” After riding in a half full bus, stopping every 2 hours and for the borders, we arrive in Prague. We are excited and ready to taste, smell and see all that this fine Czech city has to offer. The bus drops us off at the bus station in Prague and we immediately try to obtain a taxi to our hostel. I am full of courage, and step up to the first taxi driver, who is vigorously cleaning his money mobile. “Hostel …,” I say, providing the address. The man does not acknowledge my presence or the fact that I spoke. Prague isn’t looking so good yet. We find another taxi driver who tells us that he won’t accept dollars, only Czech crowns. Ok, we can simply exchange money at the bus station. Oh, no…we really can’t. We arrived the day before Christmas, which means that all businesses close early, even the “exchange-your-foreign-money” place. How do we get to our hostel having never been in this city, we don’t know where it is, and we certainly don’t have a map? Racking our brains, we decide to go to the nearest ATM and take out money in crowns. Finally, we arrive at our average hostel room, which we will be sharing with 5 other people in bunks. Not bad.

Christmas day we find ourselves walking around the touristy Old Town of Prague, and after a night of dancing at a vacant club we aren’t in tip top shape. We spend Christmas dinner at a traditional Czech restaurant in the center and Steph and I aren’t feeling as disco-y as Ryan is. She pleads for us to go out dancing, seeing how it is Christmas. We concede and begin walking to the famous 4-story disco, supposedly the biggest in Europe. However big and great it is, we don’t make it there. Instead, we stop at a disco/bar along the way when we here great Hip-hop music spilling out if it into the street. It can’t be that bad, right? No cover, even better. We get up to the top floor and notice that no one is dancing…yet. We initiate the night of dancing, meeting interesting characters along the way. There were enormous dutch guys dancing around thrusting their pelvises like characters out of movies, and underage boys dancing with their mothers, or so it seemed. Even some guys from America and Canada were there with their overly intoxicated friends who I pawned off on my friends in order to dance with a yummy Italian. The hours passed like clicks of the clock and before we knew it, we were the only ones left dancing on the dance floor. It was 3.30am. We started the club and we ended the club. One heck of a way to celebrate Christmas Day.

Christmas/New Years Trip – Act One – South Bus Station, Chisinau

The three of us arrive by taxi at 11.00 am, giving us a comfortable hour to find our bus, load on our luggage and get settled for the 30-hour bus ride. Fifteen minutes into our Prague bus search we realize that our bus isn’t parked in the designated bus area. We circumnavigate the bus station several times and come to the conclusion that it simply isn’t here and will arrive in a few minutes. I pace around nervously, thinking about a Christmas spent in a Chisinau hotel room and begin to panic with each passing minute. We decide to ask around, someone at the bus station has to know where the bus to Prague is, right? So one of us, me, stays with the mound of baggage while Steph branches out to talk to the lady selling bus tickets and Ryan seeks out to communicate with the locals. The diagnosis; the bus to Prague does not exist. Does not exist? How is this possible, since we obviously are clutching the tickets were purchased weeks ago in our glove bound hands? The hour…11.30. I am starting to panic and thinking about the options we have remaining, which are catching a bus the following day and traveling on Christmas. I am a diva and simply won’t allow this. Frantically, I race up to the ticket counter and explain the situation. “I have a ticket to Prague for a 12.00pm bus, which I cannot find. Some people say the bus doesn’t exist and I want to know for certain if the bus will be here,” I state. The ticket woman simply replies, “The bus will be behind this building.” “I know this, but it is not, and we have ten minutes before the bus is to depart for Prague and it is not here, can you tell me if it is here or if it exists at all, since I am clutching a ticket for the phantom bus and you are the one selling tickets for all the buses leaving here. Obviously, you would have this information,” I scream in desperation. “The bus will be in the back, I don’t know if there is one, but that is where it will be,” she replies indifferently. How can she not know if the bus exists? She sells tickets for buses! Grrr. I return back with no happy news. We wait a little longer…approximately 3 minutes, and I fill the silence with obscene remarks about the efficiencies of this country’s transportation. After a few minutes, a guy approaches us and asks, “Are you going to Prague? Give me your tickets and passports.” Hehehe, riiiight. I am giving no one my ticket that says I have a rightful spot on a bus leaving this country and my one item that says I am an American citizen. I allow him to gander at them but quickly snatch them back. He begins to tell us that the bus is waiting at the Chisinau Hotel (definitely not the South Bus Station) and leaves from there. This is after the woman who sold us the tickets, weeks ago, told us, adamantly, that we would be leaving from the SOUTH BUS STATION! So we are persuaded into his buddy’s car, give over our passports and tickets so they can refund our money, and head to the Chisinau Hotel at around 12.05. We are told the bus is waiting for us. All three of us our confused and frustrated, and our trip hasn’t even begun! Everything ends well, we arrive at the bus, which is waiting for us….sans passport and ticket. The guys in the car drive away and we begin to worry about our missing passports. Apparently, they drove to the ticket store to buy us new tickets to replace the bogus ones that we bought. What great guys, right? Steph is nice enough to offer to share some of her American chocolate from her mom’s Christmas package, but they drive off before we get the chance. We are securely on the bus, it is moving, we are 30-hours away from our destination and I am already burned out. Happy Holidays!