Well it certainly has been about 82 years since I last updated this crazy party machine, and boy oh boy do I have a lot to tell you!
At the end of last season, Mary-Caitlin was immersing herself in the cultural offerings of the city. Now we follow her trek across Europe in search of adventure, or at least better food. (UGH if I have to eat one more pot of gulash you will have to roll me home...)
So two weeks ago, on the morning of Friday the thirteenth, my FAVORITE day for flying, I boarded a Czech air flight to Copenhagen to visit former roommate and all around crazy person, Laura Beth Kazprzyk.
The flight was a short 92 minutes and I spent all of it passed out across my seat with a stuffed lobster as a pillow. Upon landing I realized that I didn't have Laura's cell phone number... or address, so were I not able to find her, I was essentially stranded in Scandinavia all by my lonesome. Hmmm.... oh well. I waited fifteen minutes, no Laura. Twenty minutes, no laura.
So in the meantime I got a Starbucks coffee to calm my frazzled nerves and plunked down on a cold metal bench in the center of the arrivals terminal, where I essentially looked like a lost child in a department store, with my old checkered backpack and giant Middleburuy sweatpants dragging across the floor as I walked. A half an hour had gone by and still, no Laura. And the suddenly, out of no where, a bouquet of tulips appears under my nose, "Happy Valentines Dayyyyy!"
Oh thank God.
So we take the train/bus back to her house in Norbergade (spelling?) and catch up on the past two months of eachothers lives. I spill coffee all over myself, people speculate that we're dating (what beautiful flowers!) and I stare in awe at the immaculate beauty that is Copenhagen.
Seriously, the city is gorgeous. The streets are clean, the air cleaner, and the people very, very good looking. Prague has a darker kind of beauty, its medieval, a little dirty, a little communist, a little underground. Copenhagen on the otherhand is Disneyland. The buildings are white and well maintained, people bike EVERYWHERE, and people leave their babies outside when the go to lunch?! Ok this last part I found absolutely bizarre. I guess the city is just that safe, but really? I saw at least twenty infant filled strollers outside of coffee shops and restaurants in the cold February air. People are crazy. This tops parents who leash their children.
Anyway so Laura had class an hour after I got in, so I decided to do what I always do when I'm bored and alone, dye my hair. And so, a life long dream has been fulfilled. I, Mary-Caitlin Hentz, am a Jenny Lewis redhead. Oh god. (Yeah it looked great for the first week, but now I'm beyond tired of it) Anyway, post hair disaster, Laura K picked me up and we wandered around the center of the city, ducking into quirky shops and buying bags of candy to munch on. (Disaster number two: the Danes are super hot on black licorice, which would be perfect for me, had I not bough a pound of black licorice covered in SALT.)
After the wandering Laura K and I grabbed some food and got ready for the evening. That night was pretty tame, Laura and her roommates had a few people over for drinks and then we made our way over to The Student Bar, a crowded dance party not officially affiliated with any institution but the go to haunt of all danish students. This was, I think, my favorite part of the whole trip. I have never experienced a bar quite like this one. The place was crowded with every subgenre of music nerd and grandma dress wearing film major I have ever seen. Sweatervests, suspenders, bowties, bad perms, high waisted pants and sixties throw back music. Laura K and I spent the whole time doing the twist on the crowded dance floor while her friends drank $10 beers at the bar. (Oh yeah, and Denmark is ridiculously expensive.)
To be continued....
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Tosca, or why jealousy always ends in death?
Highly considering melding my multifaceted film and fashion knowledge into this blog and somehow, whether by force or by... wait who am I kidding? By force, taking the interweb by storm!
However, since these plans are sadly still in the formative stages, I will return to last nights excitement. The Opera. So I, being a three day walking zombie from bronchitis island, am finally awake at 3pm yesterday afternoon. I pout, pace and contemplate schemes of how to sneak into our Czech classes trip to the State Opera without looking like I've been playing hooky all week. Unfortunately, I did not bring my fake mustache set, nor my grappling hook, so any scheme that could possibly work is out of the question. I poll my gang, the answer is go. Screw it. After all, I do have the doctors note and under eye circles to prove my illness. So I go, I get dressed up, throw on my once worn theory dress (the blue and black stretchy one I got a citation in for hurling a bottle of Pom off the bridge on the way to the mods.) throw on my kicky boots, use a blow dryer for the first time since new years and head into town.
It takes forevvvverrr to find the Stani Opera house, why? Because it is dark and I am directionally disabled and alone. Luckily I stumble upon two equally lost CIEE girls who join me in my quest for culture. Finally we find the place. (It really shouldn't have been hard considering the search lights and marble columns.) So we get in and...WHAT?! Where they hell did you get tickets? They handed them out today? In CLASS?!
Defeated and mildly depressed I crumple to the floor. "All dressed up and no where to the go" to the extreme. The woman taking the tickets frowns. "Here," she says, handing me an extra ticket, "some of the boxes are empty," she winks and I throw her a thousand Dekujus (thank yous) before running up the stairs to what awaits me; the best seat in the house. HAH. Take that healthy people!
And so the Opera was wonderful, really beautiful building, and an amazing performance. The set was a bit sparse, but then again I don't really have many operas to compare it to. The most exciting part of it was translating the Italian in my head and laughing when they messed up the subtitles. All in all it was a lovely time, I'm really glad I went, even though everyone dies in the end. (tres depressing)
Post-opera about forty of us decided to get food. Luckily, forty quickly turned into eight and the gang and I, plus some new friends, went out for some garlic soup and potato pancakes. Unfortunately, the croûtons in my soup tasted like mothballs. Thank god I wasn't expecting much. The highpoint of the meal was getting to know some new kids, I'm finding a lot of really great people out here.
Aside from that the atmosphere let much to be desired as the couple to our left was smoking like a chimney and the couple behind us seemed to drunk to remember where they were and decided to act out the love scene in Titanic.
Anyhow, as soon as dinner was through I decided to call it a night. After all, classes start on Monday and I can't very well afford to miss anymore school.
Responsibly yours,
MC
However, since these plans are sadly still in the formative stages, I will return to last nights excitement. The Opera. So I, being a three day walking zombie from bronchitis island, am finally awake at 3pm yesterday afternoon. I pout, pace and contemplate schemes of how to sneak into our Czech classes trip to the State Opera without looking like I've been playing hooky all week. Unfortunately, I did not bring my fake mustache set, nor my grappling hook, so any scheme that could possibly work is out of the question. I poll my gang, the answer is go. Screw it. After all, I do have the doctors note and under eye circles to prove my illness. So I go, I get dressed up, throw on my once worn theory dress (the blue and black stretchy one I got a citation in for hurling a bottle of Pom off the bridge on the way to the mods.) throw on my kicky boots, use a blow dryer for the first time since new years and head into town.
It takes forevvvverrr to find the Stani Opera house, why? Because it is dark and I am directionally disabled and alone. Luckily I stumble upon two equally lost CIEE girls who join me in my quest for culture. Finally we find the place. (It really shouldn't have been hard considering the search lights and marble columns.) So we get in and...WHAT?! Where they hell did you get tickets? They handed them out today? In CLASS?!
Defeated and mildly depressed I crumple to the floor. "All dressed up and no where to the go" to the extreme. The woman taking the tickets frowns. "Here," she says, handing me an extra ticket, "some of the boxes are empty," she winks and I throw her a thousand Dekujus (thank yous) before running up the stairs to what awaits me; the best seat in the house. HAH. Take that healthy people!
And so the Opera was wonderful, really beautiful building, and an amazing performance. The set was a bit sparse, but then again I don't really have many operas to compare it to. The most exciting part of it was translating the Italian in my head and laughing when they messed up the subtitles. All in all it was a lovely time, I'm really glad I went, even though everyone dies in the end. (tres depressing)
Post-opera about forty of us decided to get food. Luckily, forty quickly turned into eight and the gang and I, plus some new friends, went out for some garlic soup and potato pancakes. Unfortunately, the croûtons in my soup tasted like mothballs. Thank god I wasn't expecting much. The highpoint of the meal was getting to know some new kids, I'm finding a lot of really great people out here.
Aside from that the atmosphere let much to be desired as the couple to our left was smoking like a chimney and the couple behind us seemed to drunk to remember where they were and decided to act out the love scene in Titanic.
Anyhow, as soon as dinner was through I decided to call it a night. After all, classes start on Monday and I can't very well afford to miss anymore school.
Responsibly yours,
MC
Learning and Leprosy.
So last week started off with a bang. Following a fantastic weekend, I skipped merrily off to my second week of Czech with a song in my heart and... a horrible hacking cough in my throat!
Unpleasant to the max.
Monday we learned how to conjugate present tense verbs, Tuesday we practiced on some irregulars and on Wednesday... well actually, I have no idea because I was sleeping til four in the afternoon.
Wednesday afternoon, Miroslav took me to the nearby hospital to see if I could get some atomic strength cough medicine asap, but sadly they didn't accept non-emergency visitors until 7pm. So into the city we trekked, to the faraway Vodicova street, to the "24-Hour Doctor" the school had recommended. Unfortunately, due to rush hour traffic, this normally 30 minute journey took us an hour and a half. By the time we got to the Doctor they were...CLOSED? Apparently "24-hour" means you can call them 24-hours a day and for an extra $300 they'll come by your house! Ummmm no thanks, I rather spend my money on street cheese and svicova.
So it was back to the hospital, where we waited for another hour in a room full of people with far more advanced colds than I, probably getting me even sicker, until my name was finally called.
Now at this point I felt awful, I had dragged poor Miroslav around all of Praha for nothing, and now he had to describe to the doctors, in Czech, my horrible bronchitis like symptoms while I sat there like the lame English speaking tourist that I am. Finally, they slapped me with a weeks worth of antibiotics and, three days later, here I am, slightly bedridden and losing my mind. It's like that scene in Muppet Treasure Island, only a thousand times worse, and not at sea. I have Cabin Fever.
And that is why, last night I went to the Opera.
Unpleasant to the max.
Monday we learned how to conjugate present tense verbs, Tuesday we practiced on some irregulars and on Wednesday... well actually, I have no idea because I was sleeping til four in the afternoon.
Wednesday afternoon, Miroslav took me to the nearby hospital to see if I could get some atomic strength cough medicine asap, but sadly they didn't accept non-emergency visitors until 7pm. So into the city we trekked, to the faraway Vodicova street, to the "24-Hour Doctor" the school had recommended. Unfortunately, due to rush hour traffic, this normally 30 minute journey took us an hour and a half. By the time we got to the Doctor they were...CLOSED? Apparently "24-hour" means you can call them 24-hours a day and for an extra $300 they'll come by your house! Ummmm no thanks, I rather spend my money on street cheese and svicova.
So it was back to the hospital, where we waited for another hour in a room full of people with far more advanced colds than I, probably getting me even sicker, until my name was finally called.
Now at this point I felt awful, I had dragged poor Miroslav around all of Praha for nothing, and now he had to describe to the doctors, in Czech, my horrible bronchitis like symptoms while I sat there like the lame English speaking tourist that I am. Finally, they slapped me with a weeks worth of antibiotics and, three days later, here I am, slightly bedridden and losing my mind. It's like that scene in Muppet Treasure Island, only a thousand times worse, and not at sea. I have Cabin Fever.
And that is why, last night I went to the Opera.
Musings of Museums.
Shall we continue? As one may notice, if one checks the posting times on these new ramblings, I'm using this lazy and antibiotic infused Saturday to run through a weeks worth of excitement, so now that we've all had a chance to shower and shave, possibly grab a cup of tea and settle back into our comfy computer chairs, I bring you last Sunday.
I slept, until noon. (typical?)
But as soon as I awoke I was taken by a strong desire for cultural enrichment and sophisticated socializing. Thusly, I called up my go-to pals, the gang if you will, Peter and Stuart, and decided on an adventure of the Art Nouveau variety. Off we went into the heart of the city, into the tres touristy Wenceslas Square, to the Mucha museum!
AH. Perhaps this means very little to some of you, but Alphonse Mucha is without a doubt my favorite artist of all time. For future reference, the top three looks like this:
1) Mucha
2) Toulouse-Lautrec
3) Renoir
Now Mucha is the one who designed the famous Paris metro sign, he was the father of the short lived Art Nouveau movement, and an undisputed genius.
It was one of the most breathtaking museums I've ever visited, which is saying quite a lot considering it was pretty tiny. I nearly had a heart attack being that close to some of his prints. I spent a small fortune at the gift shop, and, on a rather unpleasant tangent, nearly got my head bitten off by the coat check lady when I tried to hang up my own coat. "NO SELF-SERVICE HERE," she yelled in broken English.
Terrifying, I'm far too fragile to be reprimanded by strangers. (Especially after the fried cheese I bought off the street, my stomach was already unsettled enough to begin with... ughhhhh.)
A Church! Made of PEOPLE!
Only in Eastern Europe...I can't even explain this properly, so here's the wiki-entry to do that macabre job for me.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sedlec_Ossuary
It's a strange feeling, being surrounded by thousands of skeletons. It was beautiful, in a gross, creepy kind of way. So the room filled with uncomfortable laughter, the flash of two dozen cameras taking pictures of gaggles of girls smiling before the giant human chandelier. Do you smile? It's a weird thought, smiling at mortality like that.
Return of the Plague
So, as some of you may know, I'm sick again. Everything up until that point (namely this past Tuesday) however, was fantastic. On Friday I went out with a few friends to a popular bar called Usudu, which, aside from being filled with cigarette smoke, is a pretty cool place to hang out. The bar is underground, designed in a series of tunnels that wind into larger rooms, each with a different feel. The first floor is a classy wine bar, the second full of fooseball tables the third full of punks, the forth full of loud obnoxious Americans dancing on tables... not me... of course. Anyhow, Friday was a bit of an early night seeing that the next morning was our all school mandatory field trip to the town of Kutna Hora, so I opted for a pivo or two and bounced on home around 12:30. The next morning a awoke at the ungodly hour of 7am to prepare for the 40 minute journey to Na Florenci street where we were to meet our buses. Surprisingly, I made it there with 10 minutes to spare and parked myself down on the bus next to Peter, my new friend from Emory, who unfortunately was not as lucky as I in the sleep department the night before. The bus ride wasn't bad, and was actually pretty relaxing, on the way there I inhaled the two sandwiches Daka had packed for my breakfast, caught a few minutes of sleep and watched the first Prague snowfall of my trip.
Our first stop in Kutna Hora was to the Cathedral, there's not much to say to distinguish it from the other 52 million cathedrals I've seen in my long 20 year existence, except for the amazng stained glass windows inside. BRILLIANT. Absolutely gorgeous, I took about 27 pictures just of windows, which I admit may be a bit obsessive, but none the less, I was rather impressed. Next we took a tour of the mint museum, which would have been really cool had they not closed all of the actual minting workshops, so basically it was just a room with a bunch of coins in glass cases, and not a lot of coins, maybe 20, 22 tiny, REPLICAS of coins. Tres sad. Anyway, I did however find out that the original dollar was based somehow on the czech tolar... but unfortunately I can't remember why. Oh well, I guess that's what wikipedia is for.
After that was my personal favorite, Obed! (lunch) We all crammed into this very touristy, but still quaint, medieval themed restaurant for arguably one of the best meals I have had in Prague: Potato soup, Chicken with potatoes, (notice a trend?) one non-alcoholic beverage of our choosing AND some sort of pastry that looked like it had a meatball in the middle of it, but it was actually some kind of candied berry (thank GOD.) Anyway, the food was fantastic, I got a hot chocolate that was pretty much just melted chocolate and loved every sip. Plus lunch gave me time to catch up with new friends before heading off to the main event of the day...
The Bone Church.
Our first stop in Kutna Hora was to the Cathedral, there's not much to say to distinguish it from the other 52 million cathedrals I've seen in my long 20 year existence, except for the amazng stained glass windows inside. BRILLIANT. Absolutely gorgeous, I took about 27 pictures just of windows, which I admit may be a bit obsessive, but none the less, I was rather impressed. Next we took a tour of the mint museum, which would have been really cool had they not closed all of the actual minting workshops, so basically it was just a room with a bunch of coins in glass cases, and not a lot of coins, maybe 20, 22 tiny, REPLICAS of coins. Tres sad. Anyway, I did however find out that the original dollar was based somehow on the czech tolar... but unfortunately I can't remember why. Oh well, I guess that's what wikipedia is for.
After that was my personal favorite, Obed! (lunch) We all crammed into this very touristy, but still quaint, medieval themed restaurant for arguably one of the best meals I have had in Prague: Potato soup, Chicken with potatoes, (notice a trend?) one non-alcoholic beverage of our choosing AND some sort of pastry that looked like it had a meatball in the middle of it, but it was actually some kind of candied berry (thank GOD.) Anyway, the food was fantastic, I got a hot chocolate that was pretty much just melted chocolate and loved every sip. Plus lunch gave me time to catch up with new friends before heading off to the main event of the day...
The Bone Church.
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