Train to Prague June 9

Train to Prague June 9

So, to describe the horror of the train to Prague, I must balance it out later with the description of our train to Munich from Prague. Also, I am describing this weeks later, so the details have become fuzzy for the most part, bear with me.

The train to Prague started out alright, an old German train with no air conditioning, so it was muggy inside, and the windows didn't come down at all. It was the kind of hot and muggy you assume India feels like in monsoon season. It was a miserable two hours, and as early as it was we were not happy at all with the conditions. When we got to our changeover at the Austrian border, we had about ten minutes to enjoy the crisp, fresh air before we hopped on the next train, where were subjected to another round of air-free heat. We sat in a compartment with only one other person, and they soon left, so at least we could put the window down and breathe for part of the 2 hour ride. So, mark up 4 hours of hot, muggy, stale smelling train travel. We can deal with it, it wasn't SO bad. Had we but known that those two trains would be the best part of the trip, we wouldn't have complained at all.

We knew about when to get off the train (European time tables are precise, however the trains aren't always so...punctual) so we were keeping one eye on the time, and one eye on the place names. Well, we saw the name of the place we had to get off, Cesky, and we rushed to get off, knowing that we had a quick changeover. As soon as we got off we realized that this was not Cesky, and we couldn't get back on for the one stop we had to go. The train left us, three hot, rumpled backpackers gazing off into the distance as the enormity of being stuck in a nondescript tiny little Czech town started to hit us. Now, we know how to deal with train oopsies. You wait for the next train and tell the ticket man what happened, use the dumb American look if required. We searched for the timetable (there was no one in the 'ticket' office, it looked like there hadn't been anyone in there since they posted the new timetable.) and found out that the next train was at least an hour wait. So, we set our stuff down in the shade, which was infinitesimally cooler than the sunshine.

Let me set the stage for you now, a description of not-Cesky: imagine now a little one-stop village more than town, where the train passes through instead of a bus. A place on the map that only those who live there know about. Very 1950's communist style architecture in the one building large enough to be seen; otherwise the houses were all in classic Czech village theme, small, squat and rugged. Everything was run-down looking, but in a well-worn way; slightly grown over but well taken care of (aside from the big building). The stop was nothing more than three walls to keep out of the elements, and inside of it there was no place to sit, nothing but black footmarks on the wall from countless days of waiting for the train by countless feet. Air added her own to the wall. We were all in different spirits: Air was perky still, trying (or perhaps just not at all worried) to be cheerful about it all. C was his usual self, a bit more biting sarcasm than usual, and I was probably the only one concerned at all with the idea that we might be stuck in nowheresville Czech. Not to say I was more than passably worried, it was the kind of "Well great, now how are we going to get to Prague" kind of thing. We'd undoubtedly missed our connection, and I had no idea if there were more that day or not.

I have a compass/thermometer that I like to have on the outside of my bag so that we can know where we are or figure out where we're going, as well as for the fun factoids like how it was 95+ outside, and that was in the shade. We were melting, pretty much, and there was nothing we could do about it. We had limited water, and Air managed to spill some of it on herself instead of drinking it. (She has a drinking problem ;]) We set out to stay as cool as possible in our little oven-shade, and we talked and bickered and were generally miserable for the most part. As soon as the next train came through (well, the next one headed in the correct direction) we got on board. Nothing would have stopped us come hell or high water, we were getting out of there. It turned out to be the "bus" for the region, and the conductor took pity on us and let us ride without fare. It was all of 5 minutes down the line, and we got off wondering when the next train to Prague left. We were pleasantly surprised when one of the guys on the platform went "Going to Praha? Praha?" We nodded and he pointed, with a "quickly!", so we ran and just barely managed to catch the last train out for the day.

Now this train, if the others were miserable, was fiery hell. We managed to get ourselves into two different compartments for the two and a half hour ride to Prague. There was no air. The compartment Air and I were in had two other occupants: a girl with track marks and hollow face, and a man doing his best to sleep with his head crammed into the corner of the window and seat. In the sticky, hot, miserable heat, Air and I managed to get some fitful dozing done. There was no way to do anything else; it was like those hot summer days in the South where every movement is slow and conservative to keep from overheating. After an hour or so, the girl left the compartment, and Air and I spread out a little more, trying to get as much air between us as possible. The next hour was just as hellish, and I can't really remember much of it, but I do remember being so relieved to get off of it that we almost shouted for joy, had we not been quite grumpy by that point.

Now we were in Prague, but we had no Crowns, so no way to pay for anything. We pull out money (the money there is sort of like Monopoly money, it seems absurd and unreal, as if the numbers have no actual meaning) and then Air goes ballistic on C and I as we try to not piss her off further. Now, Air has an addiction to being well hydrated, the girl drinks so much water that we have a hard time rationing water for trains, especially murderously hot ones. We were out of water before we got on the last train, and all of us were desperately thirsty, but it showed more on Air than either C or myself. So she goes supernova on us, and stalks off to buy water and figure out the underground system. She comes back later with water, except it's peach flavored and fizzy. She HATES fizzy water. Cue another blow up. C and I, cowed and desperately trying not to argue back, tell her that we can just walk to our hostel, it shouldn't be that far. She starts to stalk off at a good clip, and C (still sick) and myself are just not going to practically run with 40 pounds of gear.

We leave the train station with a map and a good idea of where we're going, and Air just moves ever onward, silent and fuming. We let her. After a while I ran to catch up and ask her why she's doing double time. Easy enough to ask, and she said that she didn't want to get caught outside with our packs after dark and in the rain (it was black and rainy behind us, and we were trying to outrun the storm). Valid point, and we were fine with it, so we kept going. Blisters and painfully weary, thirsty bodies were forced to the background as we trudged onwards. It turned out to be a mile or more to the hostel, and we were absolutely exhausted by the time we found it.

That, my friends, is the story of our journey to Praha, and I will describe to you our actually quite interesting stay in Prague later.