In hindsight, not only did we decide this was vastly beyond our ability and understanding, but we also viewed it as a mistaken interpretation of what this trip is about for us. I think we came here to get lost in other cultures and, in a significant way, use our experience to shed light on who we are. In short, we want to use this experience to learn about ourselves by learning about others. Our time in Poland, in no small part, was incredibly informative in this exercise. In following my family's journey to find peace and happiness, we found importance on aspects of life which make us proud and happy.
On to our next journey…following our time in Wroclaw, we decided to hitchhike the 6 hour trip from Wroclaw to Prague or Praga, Praha, as it is written in that neck of the woods. We made up some borscht on our camp stoves for the trip the night before and began what we hoped would be an expedient and economically prudent endeavor. We boarded the free (?) tram and rode to the outskirts of town where we posted up with a cardboard sign boasting our destination with our borscht, a dozen eggs, and about $5 at our disposal.
Having read about hitchhiking from Poland to Prague on the internet, we assumed it wouldn’t be too long before an upstanding individual picked us up and took us on our way. After all, we are a relatively attractive, young couple and presumably don’t appear threatening.
Two hours later we hadn’t moved an inch and the sun was beating down on us on the side of the road. Finally, a car stopped and told us he was going 45km down the road. This was only a tiny fraction of the nearly 600km we aimed to travel, but we figured every bit helps and hopped in. The gentleman was extraordinarily nice and 30 minutes later he dropped us in a small town 45km closer to our desired destination. We were happy to be on our way.
In a rural town in Poland, our bizarre appearance attracted the attention of locals and it wasn’t long before there were quite a few locals attempting to dispense advice. Unfortunately, none of the small mass spoke English and as we waited on the side of the road thumbing by passing cars, the small masses appeals continually grew louder. One gentlemen went so far as to grab onto Amanda and begin pushing her in the direction to the spot where he wanted us to stand in. Needless to say, we were relieved when moments later another good Samaritan stopped to pick us up. This fine gentleman drove us nearly 100km and we were hopeful we would make our destination before nightfall. The gent dropped us at the bus station in a town just short of the Polish-Czech Republic border. Amanda and I attempted to board a bus that would take us the rest of the way. Unfortunately, we immediately realized we were unable to pay as we only had $5 and the bus cost $8.
After making our way back to the main thoroughfare, a nice young woman and her mother stopped and offered to take us the rest of the way to the border. Upon seeing our large packs the two inquired in broken English “did you two fall from the sky?” At first we had no idea what the women were asking but quickly realized that, because of the enormity of the packs on our backs, they thought we were sky divers. We were not. The two dropped us at the border around 5pm just before sunset. Standing in no mans land between Poland and the Czech-Republic, the trickle of cars slowed as day gave way to evening. As evening turned to night, the flow all but stopped. We realized we were stuck somewhere that might as well have been nowhere. With no refuge in sight, we decided to pitch our tent behind a thicket of bushes in a nearby farmers field.
We cooked some eggs I'd been schlepping along for the journey on the side of the road and clandestinely set up our tent. It was a cold night and an eerie fog settled over the field. We were both uncomfortable staying on someone's private property without permission, but, alas, there was nary a soul to ask and nary a manger to seek shelter. After one of the more restless nights of sleep I can remember, interrupted by dreams of all sorts of atrocities that our would be discoverers would reap upon our trespassing selves, Amanda and I awoke at the crack of dawn. I think we both would’ve been in a cold sweat but it was about 10 degrees Fahrenheit so there was no sweat to be had. We decided to immediately get up and move the tent to the road before dismantling it and steal any time possible away from the aforementioned would be discoverers. No more than five minutes after we arrived at the road side, while we were dismantling our tent, our hearts raced as two Czech police officers approached. Had someone complained? Would we be thrown in a Czech Jail? No. They were simply setting up a speed trap and couldn’t have cared less about us.
At this point, we decided no one would pick us up on the side of the highway in front of police officers and opted to walk into a small village nearby to find public transport. As we walked, I held the sign behind me with my thumb out with no real belief that anyone would stop. Then, about 1km from the bus station, someone did.
He was an apple farmer in a minivan that was brimming with apples. We climbed into his car and, through pointing and speaking, exchanged names. The farmer spoke no English whatsoever and we communicated how grateful we were for the ride as best we could. The man, Paul, had about four teeth in his mouth yet astonishingly was able to polish down apples with reckless abandon. He offered us apples and they were delicious. The man listened to the static noise of the radio with intermittent musical interludes on full blasts. The cacophony was interrupted for what sounded like a news break. “Pryskeszjilku bobzer Momar Qadaffi pryskilili kryzylu.” The man turned up the radio and listened intently to the news break. In America, it seemed, that people changed the dial to a new pop song when the news came on. Here, this apple farmer from rural Czech Republic tuned in to the news of Momar Qadaffi like it was religion. It was astonishing and awesome. In vain, we longed to know what the news said.
Two hours later we were a mere 45km outside of Praga when Paul dropped us on the side of the road. Exhausted and waterless, we sat parched in the scorching sun on the shelterless, shadeless road for two hours watching countless cars whiz by before deciding this just wasn’t going to pan out. There were buildings on the horizon and we decided to trek to them with our packs down the side of the highway. After a couple mile walk, we were once again in a small town looking for a bus station, feeling like our hitch hiking hopes were hopeless. Once again I held the sign in tow as we walked and once again a nice gentleman picked us up when we thought all was hopeless. Waterless for the last 12hours, the man offered me a beer and I gratefully gulped it down while Amanda napped leaning against some rolled up rugs in the back seat. He drove us into the outskirts of Prague and we boarded a tram headed for the city center.
When we arrived in the center we were greeted by the famous one of a kind clock built by the Prussians. In order to be sure the clock remained one of a kind, the Prussian Kaiser had insisted the maker’s eyes be skewered out upon completion. This sort of hospitality is mildly indicative of how, in our experience, the Czechs treat outsiders.
We made our way to a tourist information center to find out about hostels only to find, they didn’t help with hostels only hotels. We would need to go to a different info center a decent walk away. We schlepped our bags there and the info people gave us a list of hostels and addresses without prices or amenities listed. When we asked the woman if she might be able to call for us, she said that this wasn’t part of her job description. After nearly 24 hours of hitchhiking and a sleepless night on the Polish Czech border this was not the type of warm welcome we had hoped for. After searching the streets for a couple of the hostels, we ended up overpaying (nearly $60 US for a dorm room) just to be able to put our bags down.
The city was beautiful and we walked around a bit as the sun set. We asked our hostel worker for an inexpensive place to nosh on some inexpensive local grinds. He didn’t respond at first so we asked again. Dumbfounded he looked at us for a second with frustration and then sent us down the street to a restaurant that was incredibly expensive. The prices were inversely correlated to the quality of the food. We were underwhelmed to say the least.
After dinner we walked around the old city and crossed over the oh so beautiful Charles bridge. We walked for a couple of hours and I dare say that I may never have and may never again see such a beautiful city. It was astounding. I think this is probably why the people are so unfriendly to tourists. They know that no matter how discourteous they are, people will keep on coming back in droves to witness the splendor of the city.
When we got back to the hostel, we decided we were in a fairy tale land that was a bit to ill mannered and over priced for our tastes and bought plane tickets to Croatia leaving the following morning.
Lessons Learned from this leg of the journey:
• Always assume you will get stuck and have a back up plan of where to stay
• Always carry clean drinking water and refill when the opportunity arrises
• Hitch hiking, although seemingly cost efficient, can end up being more expensive because it is exhausting and can lead to poor decision making upon arrival
No comments:
Post a Comment