I have plenty of good things to say about Prague and the Czechs but I’m not going to right now. I have emotionally hit a low-point due to some over-indulgence at last night’s Paul Van Dyk “concert”. I’m going to vent now and hopefully come back in a better mood on another day.
Brian and his friends were kind enough to set up a one- or two-night outing a hundred kilometers from Prague at the beach of a charming lake. A massive music festival (“massive” being the colloquialism for these events in the Bay Area) was planned and headlined by Paul Van Dyk. Brian’s friends had booked a cabin, bought tickets, and brought all necessary supplies for a good time.
First, Brian’s friends are a somewhat closed group. Not all of them, but most. At times they were reticent or aloof enough to make me think that they actually disliked me. And I rarely get these feelings from anyone. It took me well into the next day to realize that this was just their way, and nothing personal. But it did taint the evening early. Without Brian’s bottomless supply of energy and good humor, I might have dropped into an emotional hole before the night even really got started.
I got lost at this event, and spent the entire time talking to strangers. As a brief interlude is this missive, I’ll say that I carried on a literally 15 minute conversation with a woman that spoke no English. We each prattled on to each other for a minute or two at a time in our own gobbledygook and continued smiling as the other spoke. There were other kind souls and friendly women that helped me pass the evening so being by myself wasn’t really my complaint.
Now, back to the bad stuff. When we arrived back in our cabin at about 06:30, we had been robbed. Our place had been broken into and all backpacks were gone. For me this is a situation of Bad News and It Could Have Been Worse News:
Bad News:
- My daypack backpack was stolen.
- My gortex shell (given to me by my mother a few years back) was in it. I now have no waterproof clothing.
- My travel journal, replete with daily entries for the last month, was in it.
- My collection of coins and flags from every country I’ve visited were in it.
- My monogramed Hartmann travel kit (also a gift from my thoughtful and great gift-giving mother!) was also taken.
Could Have Been Worse News:
- My passport, credit and ATM cards were on me, and thus safe.
- My Digital Elph was in my pocket, far away from the cabin.
- My 20D, its lenses, and the hard drive were at Brian’s apartment in Prague.
Dealing with the Czech police is like dealing with a soap opera police officer. They know all about the drama, the photographs, the barking, commanding language and the pensive expressions. But they don’t actually do shit. After this whole fiasco, hours hunting around the forest (we found some stuff, but not mine), more time at the police station (another guy got his car stolen, by the way), and Russian-language mediated discussions with the cops, we bolted out of that redneckski villiage.
Now I’m in Prague without a toothbrush or deoderant. And good fucking luck finding those things on a Saturday in Europe. I admit that part of the charm of visiting this country is that there is not a Wal-mart on every corner. But if I need a toothbrush, I don’t want to have to wait until fucking Monday!!!
Anyway, I’m off the rant now. It may not be Tuesday, but I’m feeling the blues. I want my bed. I want my spaghetti. I want some sleep. I want a long night with my best friends and a slow Sunday morning with no plans. I want my wicked couch and a good brownie. I hope that the insertion of a few days between yesterday and my next adventure will clear out the cobwebs and revitalize me for another city. I need to move on.
Scott, my friend! Much love and good vibes are currently directed in your direction (it has taken me at least 5 minutes to determine the correct direction to send those vibes when from my couch in Jack London Square). Keep your chin up and dwell on the fact that things could have been MUCH worse. You are not in jail and you have your identification…thank GOD. You will soon have clean teeth and I’m sure you smell much better than the average Czech citizen. Nothing against the Czechs, but seriously…they can’t have the advanced anti-perspirant products you have utilized for decades now. We’re feelin’ your pain, but I’m sure you’ll be feelin’ better pronto.
Bad deal.
Big hugs Scott! Your bed, spaghetti, friends, couch and brownies will all be here for you when you get home (maybe not all at once).
Dude. I’m Sorry. It really does suck when you hit that first speedbump so far away from home. I feel your pain and there’s a big ‘ol hug heading your way.
Hey, look at it this way, you’re spending all this time travelling through Europe with just a backpack. You’re staying in hostels with filthy little delinquent Europeans (I’ve done the hostel thing so I can say that). You’re doing this on your own. If something like this didn’t happen, I would have been surprised, and if this is the worst thing to happen, then I’d say you should feel pretty good.
Let me tear a page from one of my travel diaries (I never kept them, so it’s easy). I had to spend a harrowing 8-hour night train ride with my backpack actually lashed to my body using a complicated series of bungees and shoelaces because people were stealing backpacks and then jumping from the moving train. A guy in the car next to ours found his missing and flipped out exorcist style, and a girl in our car, wandering up and down the aisle crying softly, discovered the guys she was travelling with were thieves who really had stolen a couple packs (including hers) and jumped off the train. A witch hunt 5 hours into the ride resulted in the savage beating of another traveller who may or may not have been involved. I spent the remaining time keeping an eye out for the roving band of mob justice, trying to find some sleep, and once found, waking every 15 minutes from the recurring nightmare about my pack being stolen. I haven’t slept well on a train since.
OK, I know that my story basically boils down to me not getting a good night’s rest, and it doesn’t compare to the major losses listed by you, but at least it drew your focus for like 30 seconds, and hopefully the picture of me attached to my pack with surgical precision, jerking awake with a shrieked “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!” and looking around like a hunted animal brought a smile to your face. My point is, shit happens to all, but the important thing to remember is that you’re on a journey, and with every journey, you take the bad with the good, learn from both, and keep going. Just remember these few things:
1. People ain’t shitting you about pick-pockets and the sneaky thieving nature of Europeans. Just because they don’t shove a gun in your face like in the states, it doesn’t mean the people you were drinking with last night won’t rob you blind by morning.
2. The bungee is your friend.
3. Hide everything.
4. THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!!
PS – If you’re still feeling down, DO NOT go to Terezin. It may seem like it holds historical interest, but what you’ll find is people actually living in a former relocation/concentration camp.
CHIP…
#%$!(*&%%$ !!!! REPEAT, REPEAT, REPEAT !!!!
So @&$^%)(%& of those thugs (probably Romanian or Gypsy, not Czech)!
Remember, I was twice picked on the bus/subway in Prague … the police were totally useless. And then we were hauled off by the police when we used a subway pass incorrectly … the police were horrid and it took a couple hours to un-do and be released. Small misery compared to your experience. I had forgotten all about such until I read of your tragedy. Hopefully this experience will mellow out for you and you will know that you can handle and survive just about anything! Such a helpless feeling being robbed, so violated! Can imagine how low you felt! Louie says a lot!
Much LOVE!