By Elvis Glazier - After my brewery adventure in Plzen, Czech Republic I decided I should get on the road and get into Prague. The delay in Frankfurt cost me a day and I was starting to feel rushed. Not to mention the fact that after a hard days ride I could barely walk until I had at least 3 liters of beer. The only problem with that pain prescription is that one of the side effects of drinking that much beer is that it reduces your ability to walk. It's a bit of a catch-22 situation but the alternative is worse. I would rather stumble around in a drunken stupor than feel the pain induced by 600 kilometers in the 'Pike' position while enduring road induced vibration at 180km/h.
It was the afternoon and the weather was beautiful. After spending most of yesterday on the Autobahn I decided to veer off the beaten path and take the back roads for the short ride to Prague. Staying off the highway was a great idea! The road was very scenic and there were enough places to stop and have a drink along the way. This beautiful church doubled well as a road side oasis to stop and re-hydrate.I arrived in Prague around 15:00 and experienced my first motorcycle ride through a larger European city. What a shock! Nothing you learn riding in North America actually helps you stay alive on these streets... or what passes for streets in this part of the world. I made it down to the old city center and stopped to call my friend Anna, a regular contributor of sarcasm and wit to this blog. As it turns out, she's gainfully employed and couldn't come meet me right away. As a matter of fact she seemed a little annoyed at the fact that I thought she should drop everything and come have beers with me.
I killed some time riding around in circles looking for a good place to park the bike where I could just leave the bag on without fear of it being stolen. I found out that Czech Republic was completely crime free until the Russians were allowed in. As a matter of fact the lady at the hotel where I stayed in Plzen told me that Czech people aren't even capable of committing a crime but I would have to lock my motorbike up in the gated compound in case the Russians or the Ukrainians took a liking to my bike. So armed with that useful piece of knowledge I figured I could park my bike anywhere there was a large gathering of Czech people around. As it turned out this wasn't as easy to do as one would think being in the capital city of the Czech Republic. As well, without an understanding of the local roads I found myself returning to the same place over and over again. After an hour and a half of getting nowhere (at least nowhere new) I took action and made a turn down a one way street followed by another turn on a street I hadn't been on before. I made a statement earlier about North American driving skills not preparing you for riding here, it was this moment more than any that illustrates that fact. As I made the turn down this new street I realized there were train tracks below me. How odd?
I mention again that driving in North America doesn't prepare you for driving here. Fortunately, I have other skills that do. For instance, 20+ years of playing video games have helped me develop fast enough reflexes to dodge the train that is coming straight for me. That was a very useful skill indeed. That coupled with an intense fear of death and pain allowed me to survive the train that was coming from behind me. As it turns out video games are good for you. After avoiding certain death, well maybe not certain death, certain pain at the minimum I find myself in the custody of a van full of local police officers. Between the four of them they come up with enough English to ask me for 4000 Crowns. I have no idea how much that is, but I do know a beer costs about 10 Crowns. So my math kicks in to tell me these guys really want 100 beers each. Not a bad goal, but what they don't realize is that when it comes to a Canadian and beer you would have more luck trying to wrestle a freshly caught salmon from a grizzly bear. Again, I draw upon my video gaming experience to help me in this situation. Many hours playing Grand Theft Auto has taught me not to give cops money. The verbal melee goes back and forth and I start to realize that they are confusing the fact that when I tell them I don't have any cash that I'm really just negotiating. The original 4000 crown fine has been reduced to 1000 crowns. I convert this amount again... 25 beers each. I wonder if they will share some with me? Maybe they need them for the policeman's ball? I agree to the amount of 1000 crowns and they seem happy and quite a bit less tense. The guy scribbles something down on a piece of paper and shows it to me. I don't recognize much but I do see the number 1000. I reach into my wallet and I see the guys eyes widen like a kid getting candy from a stranger (bad metaphor I know, as a kid I was never picky about where my candy came from). I start fingering through my wallet and when I handed the officer my Visa card I thought he was going to cry.
"We don't take credit cards", he says in his thick accent.
"I don't have any money", I reply.
The negotiations begin again. He points at all the banks I could go to to get money. I respond with, "They're not my banks." Fortunately for me I have time to kill before Anna gets off work otherwise my impatience would have cost me some money. I'm thinking about two things while this is happening. First, this is going to make a great story and second... "Is that Pilsner Urquell on tap at that cafe?" It would seem that video games have also taken away my ability to focus for any period of time.
Playing dumb has never been that easy for me but the language barrier and my twisted sense of humor has turned me into an Oscar award winner. A saying keeps going through my mind that would help out this policeman tremendously. "Never argue with an idiot. They will bring you down to their level and beat you with experience."
The cops have an epiphany when they realize that they are not going to get any money out of me and like a newly baptized sinner they all climb into their van and speed off to spread the word. I'm sure that the description of my bike was given out on the radio because when I got into my bike I completely disregarded all traffic signs and rules and no one bothered me again. I went down a one way street on the sidewalk passed a policeman with my helmet tied to the back of my bike and he didn't even look at me. I feel like I'm above the law. I drive wherever I want and do whatever I want and no one cares. My new found feelings of rebellion only lasts until it then dawns on me that this is the way everyone drives here. It's with my own epiphany that I receive complete enlightenment and my fear of driving goes away. It's also at this moment that I see a nice cafe serving cold beer with a good parking spot in front of it. There's also lots of landmarks around to make it easy for me to describe where I am to Anna.
I sit down and order and sure enough Anna calls me to ask where I am. I explain and she makes her way over. She gets to the cafe quickly and I see her grumpiness disappear as quickly as the beer in front of her. I explain that I won't be spending the night here so she insists on giving me a tour of Prague. We start walking. Anna is quite tall so the pace is quick. The 25 crown tour took me past quite a few notable landmarks. like the Astrological Clock and the buildings where graffiti originated.We didn't walk very long but Anna Longstrider and myself covered a lot of territory.
Our route took us over the Karlův most or Charles Bridge and into a Serbian owned dungeon of a bar named the St. Nicholas Cafe. I mention to Anna that I should probably get on the road but she won't let me leave without a meal so we hightail it to a restaurant against my will.The beer is great but the service is terrible. I don't think customer service actually translates well into the Czech language. Fortunately the lack of enthusiasm by the waiting staff is completely forgiven with the quality of the meal. My God! This is by far the greatest meal I have had in years.
If I were sentenced to death row this would be what I would request as my last meal. Not only, because of how it tastes but there is a good chance that this meal could save you from the gas chamber by giving you a heart attack. It's called a roasted Pork Hock and they serve it with horse radish, Dijon mustard, and green onions.After the paramedics revived me from my pork induced coma we grabbed the bill. My change consisted of two brass coins and a copper piece. It didn't seem like much but it was enough to buy three beers most places in Czech.
We decided to take a street car back to the bike to save time and to keep my meal in my stomach. I left my bike parked outside of the Opera House for about four or five hours with all my bags and gear, including my helmet, attached to it with a couple of bungee cords. Unlike Anna, I wasn't at all shocked when I returned and nothing had been stolen. I always have faith in people to do the right thing. Anna gave me the name of a village on the Austrian border where her cousin had a cafe. Then she tried, with no luck, to find me a place to stay when I got there. A hug and a kiss later and a warning to look out for some old fat DJ in Bratislava and I was back on the road. The sun was setting and I was eager to put Prague in my mirrors.Elvis Glazier has been slowly traveling around the world on his old Yamaha Cafe Racer and is the author of the notable blog Elvis on the Move.
