Tempus Fugit

Time Flies…

   Sep 23

A Bunch of Books Up A Big Fuckoff Hill

Whoopee for Czech beer! (I have to admit it’s been a while since I used the word whoopee… I might try and incorporate it into more sentences….still isn’t as versatile as phwoop-de-doo which is on high rotation on the radio station that is my vocabulary).

Mental aberrations aside….whoopee for Czech beer.  It’s apparently alkaline and thusly, whenst taken with a proton pump inhibitor means it’s highly unlikely you’ll end up with a hangover.  I was just sleep deprived.  My tour group laughed when they saw me arrive bedraggled and unkempt for breakfast.  Rumours emanating from a certain tour leader suggested it was all my idea to go for cocktails in a strip bar…..

Having locked our baggage in lockers at the train station in preparation for the evening’s train ride, Cheese and I headed off wandering around Prague one last time.  The first point of call was to the only decent coffee establishment we had been able to find in the wretched city.  Phorphuckssake…how hard is it to find a decent cup of coffee in Europe?  Caffeinated  satisfactorily we headed up a big fuckoff hill.  A very big fuckoff hill.  I complained all the way because my knee was giving me curry after having walked up three million steps to get to the top of St Vitus Cathedral.  Cheese was fully engaging in Schadenfreude….and no, that’s not a kinky sexual position….it’s happiness as at the misfortune of others.

Arriving at the top of said big fuckoff hill (herein known as BFH) we happened upon a monastry.  The view of Prague was suitably ooh-ahh-worthy and necessitated a photo with us in the foreground.  The BFH monastry is well known apparently for its big-fuckoff-library (BFL).  So we went to investigate.

Yup.  It’s a BFL.  A very old BFL (VOBFL).  It involved a big fuckoff room that had a balcony running around the top third.  There was one of those funky ladders that you ran along to the higher shelves.  It smelt of very old musty books.  It was very impressive.  I want one.  Unfortunately the souveneir shop did not ship VOBFLs to Australia so I had to settle for a postcard or two.

Leaving BFH monastry we meandered (now that’s a tricky word) back down BFH.  Cheese was lamenting being afflicted…nay…stricken with reflux induced bronchitis and went off in search of Gastrogel (incidentally in Prague, a Gastrostop is a fast food joint…in Australia Gastrostop is a medication for stopping diarrhoea…ironically appropriate I would say).  Turns out though, protonpump inhibitors (which are restricted in Australia) are available willy nilly in Czech republic…which triggered a mad dash across Prague so Cheese could obtain several months worth of PPIs.

Dinner at a funky pub which was a brewery also.  Standard Czech cuisine…beer…potatoes…meat marinated in beer and covered in cream.

Got onto train only to be told Czech trains lack a vitally important feature….TP.  No TP for my BH.  Luckily I had 18 minutes and some remaining crowns so I was able to purchase large quantities of travel kleenex for the journey.

Slept most of trip.  Surprisingly comfortable given the horror stories I’d heard about Czech trains.

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