Prague, Pedalos and Past it ...part 3

Well the World Cup experience was over for the fab four. We had slept the sleep of the dead and were now arousing from our slumbers wide eyed and ready for the delights of the little town of Amberg and then onto the bright lights of Prague, where we would overnight, before our return to the U.K.

The Hotel Brunner had provided us with a hospitable stay and now the breakfast awaited


   A cosy retreat and a warm welcome

The staff at the hotel had impressed us with their initial welcome and with our quirky banter, the staff responded with  humour and generosity, I even wangled an extra egg out of one of the more mature ladies. This brought derision from Ben and Ian, but the lady was obviously infatuated with me and who was I throw kindness in her face.

We were in luck today, as the Friday farmers market offered an excellent opportunity to have a good look around and take in the sights of this medieval hamlet.

A brief photo collage of Amberg. 

Blending in with the locals, we purchased the customary headgear, this drew admiring glances from the shoppers who were out and about that lovely summer morning. We had experienced the town and had been mightily impressed by the welcome we had received, thank you for everything.

We loaded up the car and headed back towards the border, just stopping for a last pee on German soil, a quick hard man pose and  then off we rolled towards Prague. Yes I admit my shorts are short, but it showed  off the powerful thighs to full effect.

We made good time, with no detours this time and we arrived at our city centre hotel around 12.30 pm, just in time to check in and hit the bars. We were in full ale swilling mode and anyone who got in our way was going to be in trouble. If you believe that you don't really get where we are really at, we were to be refined tourist with the an eye for the quirky and humorous.A few drinks, yes, but chucking it down our necks is not our scene.  What would we find?

A marvellous vehicle caught the eye of Ian and his feeble attempts to break into the car cause great merriment and showed that, as a career criminal, his days were numbered.

We ventured into the city to grab a bite to eat and to sample the local Pilsner brew. We were also on a mission to find the famous Astronomical Clock that Herbo had been raving about. Here is a picture below, interesting, but not worth all the hype.

Let the drinking begin, I say!!

.

Now that's better !!!

Two mouthfuls and note the glazed eyes and fat gutter relaxed pose !!

After a couple of drinks and a rather large hotdog each , we looked around to see if anything caught our eye. We were drawn to the rather large river that ran through the city.

The Vltava is a  wide river and is crossed by numerous bridges, including the famous Charles Bridge, which is one of the biggest tourist attractions. It was while were on this bridge that we spied something that really appealed to our sense of fun and adventure. What could be better than a couple of hours spent messing about on a pedalo. We hot footed it down to the little marina especially set up for this adventure, as always accompanied by the mighty megaphone.

We boarded our craft and at first let the young ones powerhouse us away from the landing. They soon began to flag and complain that their legs were starting to hurt, much to the derision of myself and Bill, who were giving advice and tips on how to steer and handle the boat. We made them stick at it until their pathetic cries forced us to swap seats and take over.

A relaxed Herbo does not realise that soon he would be treated as a galley slave. 

Under my stewardship the situation would shortly become a tense affair.

Its only water, you would think he'd been covered in acid !!

A devastated Ben, who can't believe a mutiny has cast him to the back of the boat. 

The pictures above can only slightly explain what happened on this trip. We nearly capsized when attempting to change seats. The special forces police, who at that time, we exercising on one of the islands on the river, seemed to take exception to our megaphone shouts of encouragement, no sense of humour displayed here from the boys in blue. Random shouts to riverbank walkers did produce waves and sometimes perplexed stares, but that's part of life, but the most horrific and almost tragic incident was when one of the many river cruise boats appeared to try and ram us. It veered away at the last moment, its wake and wash, tossing us around like a  cork in a washing machine. Thank God the experienced sailors, such as myself and Herbo were manning the tiller and navigating, or I think all would have been lost and we would have gone down like the Titanic. With our nerves shattered and shredded, we beat a hasty retreat to shore and disembarked at the landing, cursing the riverboat captain.

As evening approached we took in the sights of the city. As the city lights came on we noted that the major buildings were floodlit and this enhanced  the gothic feel of the place. 

We settled on nice open air restaurant to have our evening meal and while we waited for our food to arrive we entertained our fellow diners as we played the " name game " much to their delight. " Oh those wacky crazy Englanders, they normal just get drunk and fight, they don't entertain us like these four charmers ", one table of fellow diners was overheard to remark. After our meal we had other drink and then headed back to the hotel, tomorrow would be another full day before our evening flight back to Blighty.

 As we approached our hotel we realised how far behind us in time this part of Eastern Europe really was, a sight not seen in Britain since the late 1980's greeted us. A young man had his face stuck into a plastic bag Glue Sniffing, in ten years time he would be onto more sophisticated drugs, if he survived, poor fellow. We kicked him as we walked by. In reality, we crossed the street and gave him a wide berth.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, we went in to breakfast and straight away confusion reigned. The sophisticated amongst us recognised rock salt, but Bill and Ian maintained that this was crushed glass and had been sprinkled onto our table for some inexplicable reason. Only after Ben tasted the salt did they finally agree to use it on their breakfast.

 Rock Salt    

  This is Glass, the difference is clear.

Refreshed and ready for action we decided to cross the Charles bridge and make our way up to Prague Castle . The terrain looked difficult, the older ones in our party were beginning to flag. The late nights had taken there toll and we were running low on reserves, but we were up for the challenge.

 

The Charles Bridge is a structure that has been constantly added to and amended over the centuries,  at night it  maintains an atmospheric appearance, with its floodlit structure evoking a somewhat spooky appearance. During the day its completely different, very busy with performers, sightseers and street hawkers. One such performers luck deserted him, in that his entire stock of CD's, which were for sale, were very nearly purchased by one of our party as an impulse buy. Only passionate pleas, from the other three members,  saved us from the sounds of the " Hurdy Gurdy Man's Greatest Hits ".

This man was so close to having all his stock purchased.

I was fortunate to also join in on the end of a group photo being taken of some Korean business people. There were about 30 people massed behind a large banner, all happy faces and waving and awaiting the order to smile for the camera. I quite simply joined the group, standing on the end and had my photo taken. I can only speculate on whether I was later airbrushed off, or hopefully is my image somewhere displayed in a boardroom in Korea with people asking who is that strange man beaming on the end.

The climb to the summit, where Prague Castle stands, is long, arduous and eventually it can take its toll. The boys soon picked up on our tactic of pretending to look in shops to catch a breather, their catcalls were hurtful, to say the least and proved we were indeed passed it, only on fitness levels I'd like to point out.

No one likes a show off and an exhibition of self glorification was witnessed which made three people in our party feel disgusted. Just below the entrance to the castle and as a final insult to us, was a wide stone staircase. Ian preceded to sprint up these steps, drawing gasps and a comment from a confused American tourist of " that boys crazzzeee!!!!! ". I would agree, especially when he was leaping up and down at the top chanting " Rocky, Rocky ", damm show off .

We took our time and arrived at the top still out of breath. To be fair Ben was in less pain than me and Herbo, who was hindered, as always by his bad knee excuse.

The climb was well worth it for the views alone and the fabric of the castle was in superb condition. The history of the castle dates back to the 9th century and was the  home of the kings of Bohemia, but  today it houses the offices of the president of the Czech Republic. The castle is at least a half day excursion, so we hurried our visit somewhat, but took in most of the main exhibits including the Basilica's of St George and St Vitus. Remember, remember we are educated people and the visit was also to improve our minds and take in the architecture, not to stupidly hunt around for any references to a famous dance. We found nothing in regards of " the dance ", but showed our respects to the guard pictured below, who was stationed outside the complex, note longer shorts being worn as a sigh of respect.

Herbo in full tourist mode, his wide legged stance and artistic handling of his photograph brought applause from a group of visiting nuns who just happened to be passing.

The long walk down the hill was a pleasure compared to the ascent, but still the jibes came from the young bucks, such as " Oh this was the point I thought my dad was having a heart attack ", were, in my opinion, harsh, but in truth myself and Bill had taken the rise out of our father's in the past, so the natural progression of life carried on.

All too soon it was time to check out of the hotel and make our way to the airport, it had been a wonderful experience, with great times and memories that would last a lifetime. The four of us had shared the England victory, in what turned out to be a disappointing World Cup for our country. We had wandered into areas of the Czech Republic that not many people have seen and had taken in the delights of Southern Germany, but most of all we had laughed until we cried.

We were indeed a Band of Brothers.

Prague, Pedalos and Past it........Part 2

The border trauma behind us and a long day stretched out in front of us as we travelled to our overnight accommodation in the German town of Amberg. The hotel had been carefully selected and seemed to offer exactly what we were looking for, a small family run hotel, in a very picturesque town.

Now that the pecking order had been clearly established, our navigators offered a trouble free route to the town. Ian, conversed with a local lady, in his schoolboy German and obtained directions to the hotel. Things were looking up, we arrived at the hotel in plenty of time to park the car, check in,, drop off our bags, change into our match gear and exchange brief pleasantries with the hotel staff.

Ready for action, pity about the black socks Ben !!

We walked to the train station, which was only 100 metres from the hotel and bumped into our friends from the German police. Once more we were treated with kid gloves, our reputation had preceded us. They were clearly rattled by our silliness..."" oh your Englander humour, we cannot understand it "" they guffawed and ushered us on to the next available train to Nuremberg.

"" Quickly bring the train into the station these zany Englanders are making me pizzen mein pants""

The train journey was great, a nice clean train, good banter with the locals and good discussions with fellow German football fans, who were also taking in the match. This is how the beautiful game should be celebrated, not a hint of trouble and conversing with people who shared a love of football. 

We arrived in Nuremberg, at the main train station, right in the heart of the city and all the action. We met up with Gary, who had assisted us in obtaining our match tickets and set off for a drink, a bite to eat and mostly to soak up the pre match atmosphere. 

We were not to be disappointed, a Caribbean carnival was in full swing, we walked into the main area where both sets of fans mingled and enjoyed the occasion.

Just one big happy football family

 

Carnival time !!!

We took advantage of the free public transport on offer and caught a tram to the football stadium. On arrival at the famous showground, which hosted the Fanzone and was also, in the past, the site of the massive rallies held before and during the Second World War by the Nazi party. The podium shown in the photo below is still there and provides a poignant reminded to  times when tolerance was what it is today, but that was the past, the present was a coming together of a vast crowd who worshipped the Gods of football.  

 

 Bloke talking to his mate..." hey I wonder who will be sat here in 60 odd years...his mate replies ....." Don't know, but I hope they don't tuck into the Ox roast after the match, its crapunze !! ".

The match lived up to all our expectations, what an experience and all of us admitted to it, after the match, that the surge of national pride in seeing your country at the World Cup was worth the expense. The match ended in a 2-0 victory to England, goals by Peter Crouch and Steven Gerrard.

Nothing better than goading our hosts, well done Herbo !

The after match feast was provided back at the Fanzone, Oxen roasted on the spit, just craved off and bunged into a breadcake. Bill and myself were set up by Ben and Ian. Our breadcakes were filled with a little bit of meat and a big dollop of fat, disguised by a covering of gravy.....Yuk Yuk I still wake up at night nauseous from the memory.

We bade farewell to Gary and his family, some off us in a more physical manner than others, but he had provided us with good company and it had been a pleasure to meet him.

the flag of St George emblazoned on the boys, plonkers

We headed to the train station to catch the last train back to Amberg, but we had to partake in a MacDonald's ..mmmm so welcoming and delicious. It hit the spot, could have and should have had two meals.

 We had forgotten one very important thing throughout the day, i.e. to take on fluids, other than alcohol and boy did we suffer. The train journey back was uneventful and it was only during the return journey that it dawned on us how long we had been without adequate sleep. The two boys were bunked up together, myself and Bill  were in two singles and all of us immediately  drained the mini bars of  any liquids, even apple juice and fizzy water, we were  all so de-hydrated.

 The boys slept in their clothes on top of  beds and all of us were exhausted, but what a day, even now I can't believed we packed so much in.

...........What will tomorrow bring as we experience the medieval town of Amberg and travel back to Prague for our last night of the trip... 

Prague, Pedalos and Past it. Part1

In the year 2006 a decision was made to visit the Football World Cup being staged in Germany. Four of us were to attend the England versus Trinidad and Tobago match to be played in the city of Nuremberg.

This blog will be in three parts, there's so much to write about I was astounded as the memories came flooding back. Yes, we were silly, yes we took risks, but most of all memorable times were had by us all and its the hope of this blog to tell the story of those 3 days in 2006.

 The tickets were obtained from various sources and our only dilemma was how were we to get to the match. After various searches on low cost airlines, we decided that an Easy Jet flight from East Midlands to Prague was the best option, fly in on the evening before the match, hire a car, set off for the match in Germany early the next day.Our first night was to be in the Comfort Inn, on the outskirts of the city, aptly named it was to prove, but a more detailed explanation later. We had booked into a small hotel in Amberg, about a 40 minute train journey from Nuremberg, for our 2nd night and our final night was to be in a city centre hotel of a better quality, back in Prague, which would allow us to take in the various attractions and sights.

 The first part of the journey, to Amberg, was scheduled to take about two hours, but the best laid plans of mice and men can go astray.

 The whole party thought that as this was most likely to be a once in a lifetime experience, so what the heck, lets go out there for 3 nights and let it rip, take in the match and have a good jaunt around Southern Germany and Prague.

Lets introduce the main players in what was to be an epic encounter with the wilds of the Czech Republic, the World Cup experience and the city of Prague in particular.

Terry Weatherley, the leader, his two sons Ben and Ian and bringing up the rear, and Bill , cousin to Terry and the man who's contacts had secured the all important tickets.

The leader and you can see why !!

The sensitive one. 

The special one.

 The dangerous one.

THE FIRST NIGHT

Flying into the main city airport that evening was an enjoyable experience. The airport is new and modern and seems well run and efficient. 

Picking up our hire car through Eurocar was a breeze, even if our English humour flew straight over the head of the representative, but it was perhaps the end of a long day for him, but some of our quips were very witty and we were excited about the prospects of our trip.

With Ben and Ian shunted into the back of our new Astra and press ganged into being our navigators we attempted to locate our hotel. To be fair to them they guided us, more or less, straight to the hotel.

On first impressions and with the benefit of darkness, the hotel appeared to be o.k. The reception was clean and bright and the staff were helpful and allocated the key to our room quickly.

Now the room was laid out in a strange way, 1 double bed and two singles sited in a strange way. The first thing that anyone does in a strange hotel room is check out if the television works. If it does, what's on . At first glance the entire output was either game shows, or soft porn channels. We opted for the games shows while we settled down for a few hours sleep. The time was 1 o'clock in the morning and an early start did beckon. 

The excitement of the impending trip seemed to have sparked up the older members of the party, while the two younger members seemed to crash out immediately. Anyhow, at 4.30 am, I seemed to awake completely refreshed  and ready for a little bit of filming. The two boys were less enthusiastic at my actions and the language was shocking. One thing that must be mentioned were the curtains in our room that seemed to have a life of their own. A large window was barely covered by 3 separate curtains and they appeared to be secured by flimsy fittings, but they did a job and provided us with a modicum of privacy. It needed to be as one of our party seemed to have suffered an accident on their side of the bed , thank God we would not be returning to the hotel.

     a little accident, but its a normal occurrence for one of our party.

Dawn broke and what a view greeted us, eastern Europe can have its charm, but the back of the hotel certainly looked more like a scene from a Kafka movie set.

The plan was to drive to the border with Germany and continue to Amberg, check in at the hotel and catch the train to Nuremberg to take in the match. At the most a 2 hour drive, mostly on the motorway and trouble free and idiot proof. How wrong this assumption was to turn out, but as always, we met adversity with humour and once more we were rewarded with  great times and memories.

After a typical European breakfast, cold meats and bits of bread etc, we set off on our epic journey.

We were aided on our journey by various items, most notably the megaphone. So much fun was to be had with this object during our travels, that to have not had its presence with us would have been a shame. So off we went, let the good times roll.

Megaphone test 7.30 am, come on wake up everyone !!

The driving of the car was to be shared by myself and Bill, both experienced drivers in Europe and much less liable to panic and over react. Ben and Ian were to act as joint navigators and this was where the plan began to unravel.

All smiles at the start from the back seat drivers.

We headed out of Prague quite easily and travelled along the motorway towards the border crossing at Rozvadov. We were making good time when a sign indicating road works appeared. Bill, who was driving, ask " left, or right ", the answer from the back was left. To me as co pilot this seemed wrong, so at the last minute I counter ordered with the words " right". As we veered off to the right it soon became clear that this decision was wrong and that to return to the motorway would take a major detour through the Czech countryside.

Tempers bubbled over and words were exchanged and to be honest parental control, for a few minutes, was lost, but then regained through a mixture of reasoned arguments and threats.

After studying the map intensely, a plan and route was formulated which had, as our goal, the small town of Stod as the focal point. Once we reached this town it was a 2km drive to a motorway access point.

 the picturesque town of Stod.

Stod had been annexed in 1938 by the Nazi's as part of the Sudetenland and it was perhaps insensitive for me to use the megaphone to proclaim throughout the countryside that " attention you are now under the protection and control of the Third Reich ", but never mind only a few people seemed to understand English.

Many people we encountered, but none could compare to the two farm labourers riding on the back of a trailer who had an uncanny appearance to the Chuckle Brothers. When asked, over the megaphone, in German, as we slowly drove passed, if they had any condoms, the look on their faces was priceless. Silly and stupid I know, but it was so funny.

      "" no we have no condoms you stupid English people."" 

At last we reached Stod, the route had been mainly on class b and c roads, but we had seen parts of the Czech Republic that most tourists would never see. It had cost us about 45 minutes, but on reflection all of us confirmed it had been worth it. We rejoined the motorway network after a brief stop at a motorway service area. This allowed for a change of driver, a stock up with refreshments and a quick look at the hard core porn openly on sale in the shop, very liberal!!

Grim faced, jaw set, and hurt by the abuse, Terry resumes control of the situation.

Driving towards the border was a straight forward task and with spirits high and a quite giddy feel to the cars atmosphere we played various football related games and music. The CD blasted out the theme to the Great Escape as we approached the impressive crossing point. No queues were in evidence so I selected a lane and slowed down as a burly border guard, waving his arm in a slightly comic fashion, indicated where he wanted me to pull up. Now let me explain one thing, at that time I owned an automatic car and forgot to dip the clutch to disengage the engine. The consequence was a juddering halt right in front of the shocked border guard who shook his head in disbelief. 

Achtung out of the car please !!!!

The guards checked our passports , ran a check on the computer to see if we showed up as football hooligans. Nothing was found and after a cursory car search they waved us through and with a shake of their heads and mutterings of "" stupid Englanders "" they goose-stepped back to their office.

The rolling hills of Southern Germany stretched out in front of us in a wonderful vista.......mmm good tank country was declared as we drove to our 2nd nights accommodation.......Look out Nuremberg the boys are on there way.

In Part 2  .......... the match and one of the prettiest towns in Germany.........