Hometime...

And so I'm on my way home.

Monday night we went to this really tight bar called U Sudu, which the American girl from the pub crawl told us to go to. It has a really unassuming front, just a normal doorway, but once you go inside it all changes. It's underground, and had about 10 or 12 different rooms, all going deeper and deeper underground - a rabbit warren with little stone-walled bunkers all connected by windy staircases and corridors. We went to the deepest room we could find, and they were playing Daft Punk, and no-one was speaking English, and we were very very happy. The bartender made Jes a couple of his own special cocktails - 'Sweet' was the only instruction she was allowed to give - and we just sat and chatted and drank sweet cocktails til it was time for bed. It was such a great place. Really chilled out but buzzing with life, too, and was fuller when we left than it was at 10, when we arrived. Really cool.

Our last day in Prague was a really nice one. We got up late-ish, and decided to go for a walk to see the 'real' Old Prague Castle, the one they built before they built the Old Prague Castle. We got halfway there, though, and the stormclouds that had been gathering all morning decided they'd had enough gathering and wanted some action. It went like this:

Jes and I are walking down a street. The clouds are black. She says 'Shall we head back to the hostel?' We had no brolly and she no cardigan, so we weren't all that keen to be stuck in the rain. So we head back the way we came. Halfway down the street - a little, tiny Czech sidestreet, population 5 - there is an enormous, and I mean enormous, flash of light, and a huge clap of thunder. Not a clap, a roar. We both ducked, along with everyone else in the street. Jes thought we were at war, convinced it was a bomb. I wasn't entirely disagreeing with her, even when I was assuring her it was just thunder. It was so freakin intense. It must have been right on top of us or something - I have never heard or seen anything like it. Crazy! The heavens open, and we leg it.

So we run into a supermarket to try and escape the rain. Jes bought some powdered brocolli soup, we both bought a KitKat, everyone's happy. The rain had eased, so we thought we'd just keep wandering, and see this part of town that we hadn't been to yet. Very much off the tourist path, it was mostly locals doing theird thing, the odd person with a map thrown in for good measure. We walk past this little restaurant, and Jes suggests we get some real Czech food, but we can't read anything on the menu and I tell her this and we keep walking, to the next restaurant, which is slightly fancier, and has their menu in English, too. We stop to read it, looking for a non-meat-based option for Jes, and the guy from the OTHER place comes out and says 'Come inside for some real Czech food!'. I kinda laugh and tell him we'll think about it. We eventually decide to go in. It's tiny, this place, a big grubby. Nowhere to sit, only benches to stand at and lean on. Old Czech men and women stand and eat their big plates of food, drink their beers. It looks cheap, but smells pretty good. I order this dish called 'svickova', which the American girl from the pub crawl recommended. I know it's meat and dumplings, but not much else. Jes isn't eating. The cook says he can make it up specially for me, even though it's not on the menu. It's basically little medallions of beef, in a big creamy sauce made from root vegetables and cream, served with bread dumplings and whipped cream and cranberry sauce. He brings out a huge plate literally overflowing with sauce, and wow. It is pretty amazing. Stodgy as hell, especially with the dumplings, but so tasty. Jes gets us some enormous beers, which are only about a dollar fifty, and I tuck in. The cook speaks a bit of English so comes over to chat to us. He spent 10 months in Cairns a few years back, so we talk about Australia a little bit. He complains about the European Union, and then tells us the business is his family's - he and his father run it, his mother and his brother and his brother's girlfriend all work there. He talks about the marijuana laws in the Czech Republic - 'You can grow, just no give to children!' (which seems pretty sensible, really) - and how he hates the EU for the way it tries to homogenise Europe, and how countries need to hold on to their traditions and cultures. Some Norwegian girls we met in Berlin said similar things. Then he says to us, 'You like alcohol?' and we kinda laugh a little and point to our beers. He runs behind the counter and Jes and I crack up, not knowing what to expect. He comes back with a bottle of Czech liqueur made of citrus, a little like limoncello but darker and thicker and more intense. He pours us a shot, and himself one too, and we all toast and have it. It's nice, not amazing, and burns the backs of our throat. We talk about it for a bit and then he pours us ANOTHER. Ok. I don't know how he expected to go back to work after that, because we were hammered. We didn't want to refuse, we wanted to be polite and nice, seeing as he was so interested in chatting to us, but when we left like a half hour later, we were wobbly kneed and had to stop on a bench for a minute to compose ourselves. We giggled for about an hour, I think. It was such a lovely little experience, and I was full to the brim with good food and good feelings afterward. The meal only cost me about 5 dollars, too, which was amazing!

We went back to the hostel, napped, packed, went and saw Get Smart at the movies, then went out to a pretty fancy looking restaurant where I had the 'svickova' again - very nice again, but so filling, and I was still full from lunch! In fact, I'm still full now, and I'm in London - and Jes had a veggie bowl with fried cheese, and we shared a baked potato, and we had drinks, and it all worked out to about 20 bucks each. Amazing. Again, unassuming front, down into a little bunker-style room with stone walls and a curved ceiling. Very quiet, but very nice.

Left Prague this morning. Said an emotional goodbye to Jes at the hostel, and got on the 2-trains-and-a-bus to the airport. I sat right up front of the plane, thinking it would be good to make a quick getaway once I got to London. Of course, right up front is where all the babies and toddlers were sitting, and they were all so grumpy at being in seatbelts and yelling and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming... They all fell asleep eventually, which was nice. I got into Stansted about 10.30am local time, and made my way here to Gloucester Rd, to see the folk at the hotel - Inga, Pat - before meeting Beth after she finished work. I'm now waiting for Inga to finish work at 3.30 so we can go for a drink, then will go meet Beth, then George comes home, then we stay up, and I leave for Heathrow at about 3 or 3.30am.

That's all. I miss Jes, it's very very weird not having her 10 metres away. I have all these amazingly witty things to say and no-one to say them too. I cried a bit before, again, but that was so gay so I just stopped and ate a sandwich instead. And NO, I didn't sing Wicked out loud on the Tube, that did NOT happen. Jes would've appreciated it.

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