-the collective scent of bad sleepers breath is pungent on long flights.
-Jeremy was thrilled to buy "The Economist" in pounds.
-in the airport we ate "The Giraffe cafe" which amused me for its high english prices and its fusion of the rain forest cafe and the go green mentality. i did finally enjoy malt vinegar as table condiment.
-i will never have enough time in Heathrow to gaze at the kaliedoscope of well-pressed men's shirts. i'm immediately struck with visions of a prep school upbringing and am lost imagining "could I play polo?" this also means i will both walk into and separate any pre- dilluvian travelers (walking in two's).
-we are in prague.
-it is strange to see the name jeremy king on a sign after 15 hours of travel. especially when held by someone who looked 15 donning a blazer spray painted with che guevarra's mug.
-i was given the happy omen that my face may finally be at home because a charming grandmother ignored my request to cross over her to find the w.c. to ask me instead "but you speak czech don't you?"
-our driver happened to study at the Caledonian School where we will be teaching at and affirmed "it is... the best school in Prague"...which means to me despite what i previously believed hyperbole is not an unbridgeable gap between Americans and Europeans.
-it is all true as it so beautiful that i happily gazed from our car enjoying a few scattered soviet block buildings and the river. jeremy and i both agreed...then i happened to turn to my right and realized he was looking at a sparkling "Prague Castle" with all the laden rain clouds hovering its spires.
now a little story. there is cobblestone outside our charming hostel. there are at least seven keys needed to open each old or new door leading to a bed after too many upright shut eyes. we have a private sink but a shared toilet and shower. because i am tired and it seems silent i assume no one checked in* to the other adjoining room and am pleased because i would prefer to sleep before any shocking bathroom encounters. i confidently open door four and a bone chilling draught is felt as i feel the presence of a new arrival and there he stands portly in tiny underwear only europeans brave, soberly and respectfully saying goodnight ( i hope) in czech and quietly shuts his door.
*there could by no means be a pun here.
I ate at the Giraffe cafe in Heathrow when we were leaving London! I had a sandwich that was messy and hard to eat, but pretty tasty. That was the last time I got to use pounds. I'm so excited for you guys and this new adventure and look forward to the many stories that will result.
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