Tea is going to be cold. I can say this with reasonable certainty as it started half-an-hour ago and we're still on a bus. Not long now, though. And, in a more meaningful sense, time has passed. It's now Tuesday, we're back from Prague, and the wind-down of camp has commenced with gusto... last night an English Song Festival, today a visit to a castle (it turned out to be closed... hoo har) and swimming (which a considerable undercurrent, including myself, dropped out of In favour of ice-cream and conversation. In fact, it was the first really extended conversation I'd had with any of the kids, which greatly reaffirmed my impression that people the world over are more similar than not.)
Anyway—Prague. Enough has been said about our passage. Actually being there was cool. I don't (or try not to) listen to hype, so wasn't as disappointed as some by any aspect of the historic city. The group, already riven in twain by hostel arrangements, fragmented further the next morning...
I have no sense of direction. Outside, at least. Buildings, or anywhere I can map in my head, I can do. Countries and towns, nope. I therefore make a conscious effort to limpet myself to anyone learned or naturally talented in this respect. Fortunately, Steve and Zofia didn't seem to mind, and after a successful day of museum, Tesco, tack (we found cheap absinth within the first forty minutes... woo! and indeed -har) and the such-like, we met up with the others and exchanged notes. (My most curious purchase of the day had been Night Errant, a "Gord the Rogue" fantasy anthology by Gary Gygax dating back to 1987. It was in English, it was cheap, and it leaves me with two books in the series to read... a very random find indeed.)
Promptly upon leaving the restaurant, we lost everybody else apart for Rob and the other three crammed into a distinctly non-TARDIS-like phone box to call the rest... this failed and Z accidentally told the waiter we tried asked to help to fuck off... so, after staggering down various streets in a sugar and exhaustion inspired group hug, we found an open-air gallery-café and people melted the plastic candle holders. (Actually, there's a recurrent fire motif to many evenings spent on this continent...) We then debated going back to the 'erotic sex' shop, failed to find a jazz club and went back to the cell.
Sunday, efforts were made to find more culture, but the queues for the castle were huge and the cathedral had no useful information-board type things. Still, we touristed faithfully, getting ripped off (also known as 'eating in a café') just off the main square.
So, it was nice to get a change of scenery and some demob time after teaching, though my overriding impression is that Prague gets quite boring quite quickly. Like a lot of areas oriented towards tourists, the same souvenirs spilt forth from every other shop front, the same restaurants and foods are in evidence and the sights begin to blur together. People, rather than places, are what keep things interesting. This could well become a very recurrent theme, particularly during the 'trip' week after camp...
Anyway, I'll shut up and let the photos do the talking.