Czech Republic > Beer in the party tent

At the station, we’re not immediately approached by the usual hotel touts. Fortunately, after a bit of searching, we still find two, so we can make a choice. The youth hotel (in a student dorm) is on the other side of the city and is easily reachable by metro and bus. But before heading out, we first have breakfast near the station. Sandra and Monique go to get some money, which takes over an hour. Meanwhile, we read the super-thick weekend edition of the Telegraaf.

Czech Republic - Temporarily repaired shoes with a roll of adhesive tape

Once we’re all together again, we head to the hotel. My shoes, freshly repaired, start coming apart again. The hotel is on a hill near the center. We shower, and I fix my shoes once more. We set out toward the city center, but we don’t get far. The entire sole of my shoe comes off. I try to fix it by wrapping it in tape, much to the amusement of the others. It’s clear I can’t keep using these shoes—I need new ones. We search for cheap sneakers. After trying four stores, I decide to buy new sports shoes. At Bata, I purchase a pair for 100 guilders. To the salesperson’s surprise, I also take my old shoes with me, which I bring back to Van Haren. The rest of the afternoon, we wander through the center and eat at a genuine Czech place: McDonald’s. While attempting to drink a thick milkshake with a straw in front of the McDonald’s, we get the idea to use the tram. After all, we have an unlimited public transport card. We plan to ride around the center and then walk back to the Charles Bridge via the Jewish Quarter. However, we step off slightly too late and end up on the other side of the Vltava River.

Czech Republic - The Charles Bridge over the Vltava

Luckily, we’re in front of a high staircase in a park. We climb up. At the top, there’s a hazy art installation resembling a clock with a single hand. From this point, we have a fantastic view over the city. While standing there, we hear music behind us. Our plans to cross the city are abandoned—we go to find the source of the music. It quickly turns out to be a sort of fair. The entire area is fenced off, and it takes a while to find the entrance. In hindsight, we had walked in the wrong direction. The entrance costs 10 crowns (about 70 cents), which includes participation in a kind of lottery. On a lottery form, we must mark three sets of six numbers. The grand prize is a Mercedes. Just as we finish and hand in the form, it suddenly starts raining—heavily. We quickly take refuge in a large party tent. Inside, there are at most ten people, though it could easily hold several thousand. We order drinks. Outside, it’s still pouring. We ask about the purpose of the event. It turns out to be a beer festival lasting two weeks. It’s so quiet because it’s too expensive for most Czechs. Once the rain stops, we leave the tent. We walk among the four fairground attractions. Summoning our courage, we enter the haunted house. The scares are peculiar—it’s only frightening at the beginning when one doll comes to life, then nothing happens. We do see dolls and ghosts everywhere, as it isn’t very dark inside. Rolling with laughter, we exit. We try in vain to explain to the cashier that the electricity isn’t on, but there’s no way to make him understand since he speaks neither English nor German. In the second party tent, with space for around 2,000 people, it’s also very quiet. The “small” beer turns out to be half a liter. Ron and I try a small one. To liven things up, we start applauding occasionally and try to sing along to Dutch lyrics of various folk songs. This quickly draws attention from the locals. A Czech couple at our table finds it amusing.

Czech Republic - Ah Ill have another beer

They speak broken German and gesture for us to join them. We become their friends. Soon, sausages and beer are ordered. Shortly after, we’re each faced with a one-liter beer mug. By half-past ten, we have to go to another tent for the lottery draw, which means finishing the beer first. In the other tent, they insist on offering us another beer. A liter costs about 3 guilders, which is quite a lot by Czech standards. We ask for a small beer, but Ron and I soon have a new liter mug in front of us. The lottery draw is in Czech, but the couple translates the numbers for us, which we then pass along to a group of Germans behind us. When I have two correct numbers, I suddenly hope not to get a third—three correct numbers already wins a prize, which is one liter of beer. At this point, I’ve had enough. After the lottery, we pour out the beer we can’t finish in the toilet. When the tent closes at midnight, we say goodbye to our friends and walk back to the hotel. I fall asleep immediately.