Europe 2003

This meant that, instead of the civilized afternoon departure, and noon-ish arrival in central London, my flight left San Francisco at 8AM, I had to change planes in Newark, and I was scheduled to land in London Gatwick at 6:15 AM. Also, even though the mileage cost was the same, I was only upgraded from Newark to London, I was in steerage (having paid the higher, unupgraded upgradeable fare) for the first six hours. I watched Eyes Wide Shut on that segment of the trip.

Since the food service was pretty poor (breakfast in steerage is cereal or "egg") I did get a Nathan's hot dog during my three hour connection wait. I also called my parents, and a few friends. My mother had a bit of a scare recently, but she's recovering well.

The London Gatwick flight was full, so I was very glad to be in the front of the plane. We took off thirty minutes late, and then had the dinner service. I put on Full Metal Jacket at the start of the service. I took the lobster appetizer, and had the herbed chicken breast as my entri. While the food was good, the DVD finished before the desert cart came by. In fact, the flight was half over when the food service finished. Three hours is not much time to sleep, (actually, two hours since you are awaken before landing) and even that sum eluded me.

Being in first class, we were whisked through the airport, and I was in central London at Victoria Station at 7:20AM, 70 minutes after landing. (Had we landed 2 minutes earlier, I'd have been on the 7:05 arrival, I did end up sitting on the Gatwick Express for 13 minutes.)

There's not much to do in London at that time.

After stowing my luggage at the hotel, I washed up a bit, and went to Granada Media, where Richard works. I arrived about 45 minutes before he did... Richard set me up with a computer, but it turns out his site has outgoing ssh blocked, so my plans of accessing my email to tell some folks I arrived safely was bollixed. I did send some mail from a yahoo.com account, and I also checked the site.

I think I fell asleep for about 30 minutes. Richard was polite enough to tell me that I didn't snore.

We went for lunch at Grand India, where I had prawn vindaloo. While not as spicy as the vindaloos I make at home, it was like comparing a habaqero to a bell pepper when looking at American vindaloos. After lunch, we checked out a whisky shop on Old Compton Street, where Mike Rosenberg will be pleased to learn that you can purchase Maker's Mark (£25/bottle) and even Blanton's (£64) as well as a large variety of scotch whiskies.

It was nearly 3:30 when I got back to my hotel, checked in, and took a long, hot shower. London was very warm, and humid, so my clothing was pretty sweaty. I relaxed, and did some shopping for items I forgot to pack, including my plug adapters for my laptop, and shampoo.

I met Jordy Kaufman at Liverpool Street at 6PM. Jordy is a regular reader and poster on the Duke Basketball Report who is now a lecturer at University College. He's lived here for four years now, so we talked about basketball, Duke, and living in the UK. We went for a curry (I had mutton dhansak) at Muhib on Brick Lane, and then headed off to a pub.

We had an interesting experience there. We were talking about the different perspectives on news coverage about Iraq, and we were overheard by a Royal Marine who had been released from hospital after six weeks treatment for injuries suffered in a suicide bombing in Basra. Unlike many in the American military, who would take personal offense at expressions of opposition to the war, this gentleman had no objections to our previous comments on how foolish the war was. His message, essentially, was a first hand reminder that for the men and women in uniform Iraq is not an abstract issue, it is a daily risk.

Dave was working at one of the checkpoints where vehicles are inspected for contraband, weapons, etc. They keep the vehicles 20 meters apart, to make the inspections easier. The truck in question started to accelerate when it shouldn't, and he gave the order to open fire on the vehicle, to take out the tires and radiator. He saw that the driver was a woman, and immediately after disabling the vehicle, he has some memories of the explosion.

While he clearly knows that his orders saved lives, it was also clear that he was still emotionally upset by the entire situation, including his command to open fire on a truck driven by a civilian woman.

If someone else were to tell me this happened to them, I'd tend to think they might have been scammed, so if you think I was scammed by this story, I understand. Suffice to say, the details and description felt real, and (unbidden) at one point the soldier showed a fresh scar.

After that, we broke up, and I headed back to my hotel, where I slept soundly from 11:30 to 8AM.

The sleep felt good. I showered (which felt even better) and set out. I really didn't have very much in the way of plans, I meandered to the Riverwalk near Southwark, where I enjoyed the sun and shade, and the clear blue skies. Normally, one thinks of London as a damp and dreary place, weather wise, but in all my recent spring trips, London has been hot and humid. Today's high ended up near 300 (860F) and the temperature in the tube was even higher.

I followed the Riverwalk down to the Globe Theatre, where I decided to get a ticket to Richard III, in a matinee the following Friday. I then crossed the Thames, via the Millennium Bridge. This is the newest bridge over the Thames, and is purely a footbridge. It crosses roughly from the Tate Gallery to St. Paul's Cathedral. The Thames is a bustling river, narrower than the Hudson, or Potomac, but wide enough for commerce.

I headed over to Waterstone's on Piccadilly to look for booty, er, books. My father had requested seven books, and I was looking for some other books myself. I found six of the seven books for my father (Sharpe's Trafalgar, Sharpe's Triumph, Sharpe's Fortress, Sharpe's Prey, Sharpe's Devil, and Sharpe's Battle.) I bought the new book Berlin, plus the last Douglas Adams work.

I took these books back to the hotel, simply because it was too much to carry around.

Instead of going for lunch, I went to the National Nautical Museum, in Greenwich. Docklands Light Railroad is now finished under the Thames, which made the trip slightly faster. The NNM has an exhibit on Elizabeth I, whose reign ended 400 years ago. There were several items from her reign, but what impressed me the most was the paper on which she wrote her speech, "I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the stomach and heart of a king, and a King of England."

Two years ago, when millenniumitis was in full swing, I decided that I felt Elizabeth I may have been the "person of the millennium." At the start of her reign, England was divided, weak, and bankrupt. By the end, while there were still some religious tensions, England had defeated the Armada and the treasury was sound. Her speech came at the moment of greatest peril, when the Duke of Parma threatened invasion.

Also at the museum were several exhibits on British seafaring history, focusing on the Royal Navy, but also on exploration. Nelson had a large hall dedicated to his life, he was the only admiral so honored. I did note that in the list of battles fought by the Royal Navy, they failed to mention the Battle of Flamborough Head or the Battle of Lake Erie. Then again, their record in those two wasn't exactly impressive.

I spent the afternoon there.

For dinner, I returned to Brick Lane, and went to the Standard Balti House, where I had a lamb phal curry. It was definitely hot, but very enjoyable. It did take about a half gallon of water for it to go down!

In the evening, I went to a showing of The Madness of George Dubya. This play/musical is a parody of Stanley Kubrick's Doctor Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love The Bomb. A US air force general orders the bombers to nuke Iraqistan, only to be saved by an Al Qaeda operative working as a cleaner due to privatization. It was a fairly left-wing presentation, and had a fair number of jokes at the expense of Prime Minister Tony Blair, as well as Bush.

I don't think it would go over well in New York, but it would definitely be a hit in San Francisco.

Of course, if they tried to play it in Dallas, the performers would be lynched.

After the play was over, the skies were still twilight, so I wandered around Covent Garden, watching the partiers, and listening to fireworks. At about 11PM, I was getting hungry again, so I went to Kebab Machine near King's Cross for a doner kebab. Doners are typically food eaten while out on a pub crawl, Ir, after one has had something to drink. The kebab I had in Edinburgh was one like that.

Kebab machine actually makes a kebab worth eating when sober, while the "meat" is the same, the spicy sauce is actually quite good, and I guess they have enough business that the kebab is not overcooked or undercooked, and is not too greasy.

I also noted that the WH Smith's in King's Cross was going a little crazy; the latest book in the Harry Potter series was being published the next day, so people were queuing to purchase the book at midnight. (Having camped out for basketball while at Duke, I can intellectually understand the compulsion.)

Anyway, after the kebab, I took the underground back to my hotel, when I had one of those incidents that unnerves many people. While I was standing watching the train approach the station, a large, obviously drunk, person started yelling, then focused his anger on me. He followed me on the car, and was making threats, which I was trying to ignore. I finally said something like, "I have nothing against you," and eventually he calmed down. In a typical drunk fashion, he immediately decided he liked me, which was almost as bad.

Eventually, he got off the train, and I got back to my hotel.

I went to bed, and had a restless night's sleep. I woke Saturday morning too early, since the Hertz was not open until 8AM, and I was ready at 7. I had a cup of tea, and checked out, and waited. At 8AM, I picked up my Hertz, and did some practice driving near my hotel before I set off.

Driving in the UK is obviously different from driving in the US. It takes a little while to adjust to three differences: (1) Driving on the left side of the road, (2) using the left hand to manage the gears, and (3) the sense of spacing on the car.

Adjusting to the first was the easiest, I just kept myself looking at the oil tracks and staying in the lane. While one might think this the most difficult, it really is just a matter of looking.

The second was a little harder, since I drive a stick in the US, I instinctively use my right hand to change gears. I'd hit a door in London. I adjusted by keeping my hand on the stick for the first few minutes. Before I reached even the limits of central London, I was adjusted.

What kept me nervous the entire time was the sense of spacing. At home, on my left is a door, and I know that two feet away is safe to pass. Furthermore, I also have a good sense of where the right side of the car is located at all times. With right-hand drive, the area to the left of me is still auto, and judging my proximity when passing was the single biggest difficulty. I ended up paying more attention, and had no incidents, but it was extremely unnerving.

Anyway, I drove up the M-1 to the M-25 (The London Orbital, or in the US the term would be Beltway.) I took this around to the A-12, which is the road to Suffolk. It was definitely a longer drive than I expected, perhaps because I was not as accustomed to the drive.

My first stop was Minsmere, a RSPB reserve near Westleton. I got there after noon, and stayed until 2:20PM. There were several trails that led to hides, where one could watch birds. The two most notable sightings were some greylag geese, including gosling, and a bittern. The bittern decided to fly, and was harassed by a hen harrier, and I attempted to take pictures. We'll see how well it comes out!

I next went to Walberswick, just up the road, where I had a booking at the Ferry House. Ten days previous, I exchanged e-mail with the proprietors, and said I'd be arriving circa 3PM. I got there at 2:55, and they were out. I waited, and I read, and at 4PM, I realized that I'd need to either find another hotel, or change on the beach. I opted for the former, and started looking. Eventually, I found a room in Ipswich, 40 miles away, and £60 more expensive. That's the problem of short notice on the Suffolk coast in summer.

What was particularly galling is that it meant I would arrive almost an hour late, without a shower, without a shave, and woefully unprepared for the reception. I accidentally left my wedding gift at the hotel in Ipswich, along with my wallet. (I owed Mark Nott, the best man, some money for Stag Weekend expenses.) More than that, I was a little embarrassed at my lack of preparation, as I felt it might have dishonored my friends.

Sophie and Richard were understanding, of course, and it was good to see my friends Ian and Dawn, also from St. Andrews, as well as the entire stag weekend gang.

The reception dinner was asparagus, salmon, beans and potatoes. After the dinner, there were speeches from Sophie's brother (who gave her away), Richard, and Mark. Then there was Scottish dancing (which I watched, as my legs don't move that way!) and mingling.

One of the ironies of attending a friends' wedding is that you don't really get to spend much time with that friend, but you do get to see some other mutual friends. As it turns out, Ian and Dawn also had some serious problems with their hotel, when their booking was lost. They were eventually put up in a larger space, which could have fit me, as well! Oh well...

All said, it was a lovely wedding. Sophie looked radiant, and Richard looked like the cat that stole the cream!

I managed to drive back to Ipswich to arrive at 1AM. The car park was full, of course, and I ended up parking a was away.

Slept OK, woke and left for London at 9AM. I had a 1PM flight to Amsterdam from City Airport. I drove without incident, filled the car with petrol (£33! Ouch) and made my way to City Airport. It turns out the drive to and from Ipswich put me over the mileage limit, and I had to pay extra on the rental, thanks Ferry House. I left a bag at left luggage, mainly clothing, books, and London supplies, checked in, and called my father. Today was his 72nd birthday, so I wished him well.

The flight was a Fokker 50 turboprop across the North Sea. Since my last visit, The Netherlands has adopted the Euro, which is not as attractive as the old Dutch money. I left more luggage in a locker at Schiphol, and went to my hotel.

I had dinner at an Indonesian restaurant, a rice table with three sates, three spicy meats, three starters, three vegetables (are you starting to notice a pattern?) three condiments, and two types of rice. It was very filling, I couldn't eat it all!

Amsterdam is even hotter than London. Whenever I come here outside of winter, it is hot. Today, it was 350 (950F) in town. Add to that, humidity. Kenya was cooler.

After dinner, I visited a coffee shop and hung around for a while, before returning to the hotel to get some much needed sleep. On one of my earlier flights, I was chatting with a Dutchman who was returning home from San Francisco. He commented that the Amsterdam government, under pressure from France, actually raided a coffee shop and closed it down recently. Perhaps a bigger threat is the coming anti-smoking law, though.

January 1, 2004, a fairly broad anti-smoking law will take effect. Smoking will be banned in all places of employment. While the restaurants and bars were able to get an exemption pushing off the date the ban starts for a year, this does not apply to the coffee houses. Also, the law was written banning all smoking, not just tobacco. For the coffee houses, this is very bad! I guess they will mainly be selling things like spice cake in the future.

The room's fan was fairly noisy, and the predicted thunderstorms never arrived to cool the place off. As a result, my sleep was restless, and incomplete. I had planned to rise at 6, but I was awake at 5.

For someone who has traveled to such places as Thailand, Borneo, and North Carolina, it may seem odd to hear, but I really do dislike the heat and humidity. If there is something to see, I'll put up with it, and try to be graceful, but I'll definitely grouse about it in my journal. Give me 150 (590F) and I am comfortable. Maybe that is why I am as against global warming as I am.

The forecast for Prague, last I heard, was that it, too, was expected to be quite warm. Since I woke so early, I arrived at Schiphol early (there is about as much to do in Amsterdam at 7AM as there is in London!) and got myself checked in. I picked up my camera case from the luggage locker where I had left it, along with the bulk of my clothing bag. It looks like the way you check in at Amsterdam has changed, I don't think you can leave the emigration line after check-in.

Zipped through everything, and waited for the flight. And waited. I did look at all the shops, and I bought some black truffles, but most of the good things would not last without refrigeration until I returned.

The flight to Prague was full, so I was glad I was able to switch from the window seat I had been assigned, to an aisle seat. They served a decent meal (it was Czech Airlines, as a KLM code share) of sliced meats, cheeses, and a small eclair on the flight, so I wouldn't be hungry until dinner.

The immigration lines at the airport were long, and even though I was in the fastest line (after five minutes waiting, they opened a second booth near us, so our line was serving two booths, as opposed to the single booth per line on the other lines!) it was almost 15 minutes from when I got in line, to when my passport was stamped.

Even with the delay, the luggage hadn't arrived yet. It was a couple more minutes, but my luggage was off early, so no worries. My ride was waiting for me, a Mercedes SUV, and after a quick visit to an ATM (isn't it wonderful to be able to get beaucoup monies from machines on the other side of the world!) I was whisked into the center of Prague to the Bishop House Hotel, at the foot of the Charles Bridge. I arranged a plug for my laptop, and then set off!

I was looking for the elusive Prague Card, a three day museum and transportation pass, but it is only sold at a few locations. I meandered across a bridge, and into the Old Square at the center of Stari Mjsto, the old town. A lot of the older buildings were intact, showing the advantage of being out of range of Curtis "Bomb them back to the Stone Age" Le May during WWII. Also, the simple fact that Czechoslovakia was ceded to the Germans before WWII began helped keep the town intact.

I looked into some crystal shops, and was surprised at the prices. I was even more surprised at the prices of absinthe, since a friend (who must remain anonymous, for obvious reasons) asked if I could pick some up for delivery back in the US. I did purchase a Czech national team jersey, and a Sparta Prague jersey, they were quite inexpensive (particularly compared to UK teams!) and should pack quite easily.

I eventually found the place where I could buy the Prague Card, and picked one up. (It cost about the same price as the two jerseys.) I then ventured south to St. Cyril's, where the Czech paratroopers who assassinated Heydrich hid from the Germans until they were killed. The museum was closed (Monday) as was Havel's flat, so I went back to my hotel, this time crossing the Charles Bridge.

Here I could make some comment about thongs, very short cotton dresses, and river breezes, but I think you've got the idea.

It should be noted that a fair number of streets in Prague are cobblestone, and since I was developing blisters again, this made walking painful. Basically, until the blisters were squished into less painful places, I'd walk quite gingerly for a while, and then resume my normal (blister making?) pace.

Near the hotel there was a market where I bought a large bottle of water for less than 50" (Ck11!) and a Pepsi light. At the hotel, I received a call from Ellen Cousins informing me of dinner plans.

My friends Bob, Ellen, and Grace Cousins were over in the Czech Republic for another wedding, the same day as Sophie and Richard's. While my main motivation in choosing Prague was the affordable airfares and hotels (My four star hotel costs less than a two star B&B in central London!) knowing that I'd run into them was a bonus.

We planned to meet at 6:45 at U Modri Kachniky, (The Blue Duck) which was highly rated by every source. We were also joined by the Cousins' friends the Sevillas, also from Saratoga, California, who were also over for the same wedding.

U Modri Kachniky specialized in duck and game, so obviously I had to have duck and game. I opted for a venison ragout appetizer, and the duck was a roast duck in apple sauce with potato croquettes. I had lemon pancakes (crepe like) for desert. I don't remember what everyone else ordered, but I think everyone was well satisfied with their meals. While the total bill was a little high (about Ck900, or $30 per person) for Prague, it was cheap by San Francisco standards. The European serving style, where you are not rushed away from your table, suited me, but for the children present, a three hour dinner was a bit long, so we did leave early-ish, before 10PM. I showed the Sevilles the short cut to Charles Bridge, and then went back to my hotel.

I slept soundly until 7:15 AM, over 8 hours.

With the Cousins in town, the plan was to meet up at the Prague Castle at 9:30. As I said, my hotel was down by the Charles Bridge, and the castle was up the hill. On paper, it was a short walk, but the staircase, with about 150 steps, did slow me down a bit. Even so, I arrived early. The Cousins arrived early, too.

I had my Prague Card, and the Cousins bought their ticket. We wandered through the first two courtyards to the St. Vitus Cathedral, which is a beautiful old Gothic cathedral. We went inside, and just looked at the stained glass, and all the accumulated wealth of the Catholic Church. Lots of ornate gold and silver was around. Clearly, Oliver Cromwell never got close to this place!

We did venture down into the crypt, where we saw several caskets, including that of "good" King Vaclav (Wenceslas.) Near the end of our time in St. Vitus, we had the opportunity to go up the great tower. Bob definitely decided it wasn't for him, and Ellen changed her mind after about 25 steps up. This left it for Grace and I to climb the 287 steps up the tower, past the bells. It was a narrow, spiral staircase, seemingly endless, reaching up into the sky. Once we reached the top, we had the opportunity to see magnificent views in all directions, including the tops of the spires of St. Vita's, all the way out to distant Prague.

The climb was well worth the energy it took. The climb back down was even more unnerving for me, I know I can climb up almost without limit, if I set my pace appropriately, and stop as needed. Going down is when I am historically at a greater risk of injury.

Once we were down the tower, it was time to reward ourselves for the effort, with a stop at a snack bar to get some cold drinks. Prague wasn't as warm this morning as the previous afternoon, but climbing up and down is enough to raise quite a sweat on me.

After the snack bar stop, we went to the St. George Cathedral, which was smaller, but had some interesting tombs. Next to St. George was an art gallery, that included some magnificent medieval paintings of crayfish and the like. Bob stayed outdoors while the three of us checked out the gallery, and after a short while, Grace got a little impatient, so we left.

Ellen and I checked out the Grand Palace, while Bob and Grace had another drink. This caused Ellen some problems, as the guard, clearly a holdover from the era prior to 1989, would not let her in without Bob and Grace, because the ticket was for all of them. After some intervention from another guard, Ellen made it in, and there was a huge ballroom. According to some guidebook, this was the largest secular arched-roof hall in Central Europe. I could just imagine a string orchestra playing waltzes, with people dancing.

It was about 1PM, time for lunch. We picked an outdoor restaurant outside the castle, where the portions were quite filling, and the sodas were dear. I had a kebab of lamb, beef, pork, and chicken that I couldn't finish. It was larger than a dinner portion. Bob had a pork tenderloin, Grace had a Caesar salad, and Ellen had a beef stew. We were quite satisfied.

We tried to go to the military museum, but it was closed for renovation. At this point, Bob and Grace decided to spin off and go back to their hotel. Ellen and I still had some legs left for adventure, so we talked a little bit about where to go, and settled on Loreta, another monastery where jewels are kept. There were several interesting paintings, and then you went up to the vault. There were ornate clusters of jewels, including one with 6200 diamonds, many small but some as large as ten carats or more. The churches were also filled with loot. I did comment to Ellen that the wealth of the Catholic Church offended my socialist tendencies, and she understood why.

There was also a pair of skeletons, covered with armor, and with wax heads, that were claimed to be the remains of saints. We missed them the first time through, so went back to look.

After this visit, it was 3:30. Ellen and I split up, she went back to her hotel, and I went shopping. Since my sister Lillian said she didn't want anything, I had to find her the largest and most ornate piece of crystal one could reasonably purchase. Clearly too big for my luggage, even my extra large travel bag, I've had it shipped home. I also got myself a small piece of crystal for the mantle.

Dinner was at U Supa (The Vulture) near the crystal shops. Ellen had asked her hotel to make reservations, but her hotel thought the place was closed due to the flood, and had never re-opened. Bob and Grace were waiting at the restaurant near the underground station, while Ellen waited for me at U Supa.

Previously, I walked past that restaurant but I realized that a slightly different side of the block would be a few steps shorter, so I walked behind the restaurant, and met Ellen there, where she told me the story. Obviously, her hotel was wrong, but since Bob had a bad day, and had sore feet, we walked back to him and gave him the option.

He chose U Supa, and it was an inspired choice. The service was first rate, they were very willing to provide us with a pitcher of water, service was prompt and friendly, and everything went well. I ordered a sausage appetizer and spaghetti carbonera. The food was excellent! Bob also ordered a sausage appetizer and a steak main course, Ellen had a cheese platter and a half duck, and Grace had soup and penne with chicken. Suffice to say, Ellen would mention something to her hotel, and we all recommend U Supa very highly.

After dinner, they took a car home, and I was not yet tired, so I went to a coffee shop in Mala Strana, and hung out for a while, watching people pass by, before retiring at 11PM.

I slept well, more than 8 hours, and was fully refreshed. This day, I would explore Prague on my own, for as long as my feet would carry me. With blisters, this was a definite pain, but I still did a lot.

My first stop was Nemesti Miru, where there was a church to photograph. I was surprised at the length of the escalator, going back down, I timed the ride at more than 2 minutes (2:14 to be precise.)

The underground has some interesting after-effects of the 2002 flood. In many of the escalator tunnels, there are lines marking the high water mark on 14 August, 2002, for the great flood. In many cases, they are near the tops of the tunnels, implying the water was over 100 feet deep in the subways. Draining the tunnels and cleaning the system must have been a mammoth undertaking. Also, I don't recall a trip up an escalator where there wasn't a couple snogging on the down escalator. I don't know what it means, but I did find it notable.

Next stop was the Museum of Communism, which opened at 9. This was an interesting experience. There were details on the evolution of Communism in Czechoslovakia, including information on the Prague Spring. It had some factual errors, which indicate some exhibits were prepared before September 11, 2001: There was the claim that the US did not have secret trials, and that the US did not hold people for indefinite periods of time without trial or communication... All faults of the Soviet Empire that we've adopted for the US. I did buy some old silver coins from the communist era.

After the Museum of Communism, I went to the National Museum. This was quite a disappointment, the exhibits were pretty sterile, and the exhibits were primarily in Czech. There was a wing of prehistory, a wing of minerals, a wing of zoology, and a wing of paleontology. Everything in glass cases... The zoology had stuffed animals from all over the world, and to amuse myself I identified the North American birds I recognized. Paleontology had local fossils, nothing spectacular.

I then went to the Prague Museum. The major highlight there is the model of the city from the 17th Century. There was a photography exhibit that I did not understand, and I there was some more exhibits of the city's history.

I returned to Vaclav Square for lunch at a food stand, a kolbasa sausage and a coca cola light. Total price was Ck50 (under $2) and the meal was very filling.

Next destination were the grounds of Vysehrad another castle. I took the underground, which was not the best idea. By the time I walked around the castle, I had descended a couple hundred feet or so, and my blisters were on fire. The grounds were very tranquil, you could see thrushes and finches eating, and I even took a picture of a beetle. Lots of walks in the woods, which were quite pleasant.

Since it hurt too much to climb back up, I instead went over the river on the tram to the funicular railroad, and took it to the top of Prestin. This site had some interesting views.

At the top, I ran into the Sevillas! They had also had a busy day, but their feet were in better shape, as three of them climbed the tower for some spectacular views. For me, it was painful to stand or walk. We headed back down the funicular, and found the tram. I took the tram to Nemesti Malastranka, which was the closest tram stop, and I walked back to my hotel. I picked up my water bottle and my Pepsi light, and put them in my fridge. It was 4:30, enough time to let my feet cool for a while. When I took off my shoes, I discovered that the blister on my left Achilles tendon had worn through and was filled with blood. It was most unpleasant.

Ellen had left a message pointing me to dinner, U Modri R|ze. I needed a little bit more cash, so I exchanged a hundred dollar bill on my way to the restaurant. At the Blue Rose, the same crew as Monday met, plus Lynn Sevilla's mother. The menu was extensive, with many appetizers and main courses. I ended up with a squirrel soup, escargot, and crocodile in a tangy sauce. I offered Grace an opportunity to sample the snail, and while she was a bit squeamish, at first, she said it wasn't bad. I don't recall what everyone had (it being a long table, cross-table conversation wasn't as good.) but Bob let me sample his beef stroganof, which was decent, but not as good as my own. Ellen had another duck, which she said was excellent.

While the food was very good, it was not quite as good as the other two dinners, but there is no shame in that. Based on my experience Prague restaurants are definitely high quality, and reasonably priced. That's a very good combination.

I then went home to pack and get some sleep. It was a little tricky truing to fit Lillian's gift into the bag, so I eventually decided to carry it on. Besides, as checked luggage, it may have had a better chance of damage, as carry-on, I know I can take care of it.

In the morning, I took one last walk in Prague, all the way across the Charles Bridge to the Old Town Square, Vaclav Square, and then took the underground back to my hotel. I checked out, and waited for my tour.

I had opted to hire a driver (Lucie Pechacova) and tour (www.lucytour.com) to visit Lidice. This was an old Czech town that the Germans decided to raze in 1942. Czech paratroopers had assassinated Heydrich, the SS commander for Bohemia, in Prague, and the Germans vowed to make an example to try to prevent further resistance. They opted to make an example of Lidice.

Every man and older boy was herded into a farmhouse and shot. The women were all sent to concentration camps, and the younger children were adopted by German families. Then, every building was destroyed by fire and explosives, even the cemetery was destroyed, and the town was erased from the maps.

At the end of WWII, New Lidice rose from the ashes. Of the children, 82 had died in concentration camps, but 17 returned. Sixteen are alive today, according to the staff at the museum. A large mural depicts the atrocities committed, and a small museum shows a film of the event (including some Nazi footage of the buildings being razed) and several remaining artifacts.

Then, we walk down from the memorial into what was once Lidice. It is now a grass field, very calm and peaceful. There are a couple memorials, one at Hudek farm where the men were killed, one for the church, one for the school (with 47 locations for planters, presumably representing the students) and one for the children. It was an ironic counterpoint to the historical violence to be listening to birds sing on a beautiful Czech day.

The Czechs vowed that Lidice will never be forgotten. The name stands with too many others as a memorial to man's inhumanity.

While walking, Lucie and I talked about many things, such as the general feelings of the Czechs toward the Cold War, Russians, Neville Chamberlain, etc. I only mention this because she made some comments about Vladimir Putin and his handling of the theater siege.

After that emotional visit, I was taken to the airport. You check in no more than two hours in advance, we arrived a little more than two hours before my flight. No worries. Despite my checked luggage reaching 30 Kg, I was not charged excess luggage. After checking in, I had a quick sausage, then I visited some duty free shops. The chocolate looked sinful, and I gave it a miss.

The flight to Amsterdam was packed, I did board early as a Continental elite, so I had my backpack in the overhead. Two seats over was a cute American girl reading about Lenin and the New Economic Plan in French. I thought it was an amusing juxtaposition. Being off my feet, my blisters were really hurting on the flight.

I changed planes at Schiphol to a Fokker 50 for the flight to City airport. We flew over Greenwich, New Cross, etc, before landing from the west. It looked like we could touch some buildings on our final descent.

The good thing about flying into these small airports is you get in and out quickly. Despite checking two bags, the wait for luggage was less than two minutes, the distance walked to the taxes was shorter than the distance from the trains to taxis at Victoria, etc. I picked up the body bag I left, and took a taxi back to the Palace Hotel.

Here's where things went slightly awry. There was a massive backup at Tower Bridge; traffic was essentially frozen. After five minutes, the driver took an alternate route to the Embankment. We followed that for a while, but it also slowed to a crawl after a short while. We took a side road, where we came up to a red light. While the light was red, a motorcycle cop came up and closed the intersection. The meter clicked off £5 in waiting time, as Vladimir Putin's motorcade drove past.

Alas, while I was within 40 feet of the Russian President, I did not see him as he kept the curtains closed on his limousine.

Once past, the driver went up Whitehall to Pall Mall, which allowed me to joking say, "No, I'm staying at the Palace Hotel, not the Palace itself."

With the delays, it took 75 minutes to reach my hotel, and cost £40 (the normal rate is allegedly £28, and I would suspect I did have £12 in waiting time at various delays. Thanks, Vlad.)

I was hungry, so I went for a king prawn madras curry at Muhib. Filling. Back to the Palace Hotel, to get some sleep.

Friday was shopping and theater. First, I went to Mark Nott's place of employment to drop off Sophie and Richard's wedding present, and to give him the £257 in expenses from the stag weekend. Yes, there were two Scottish pound notes in the stack of money. I then went to Waterstone's, where I found the last book, Sharpe's Tiger, for my father, and also bough Simon Schama's third book on the history of Britain. It was on sale, half-price. I also bought some teas.

I looked for the rugby jersey Mike Rosenberg requested, but JJB did not have staff present, and my arms were not long enough to reach the top row of shirts.

In the afternoon, I went to see Richard III at The Globe. It has been made up to be fairly traditional. A couple exceptions were that the standing area was concrete, and not straw mixed with horse manure. Also, I'd guess the upper tiers are no longer allowed to throw their garbage on the folks downstairs. I had a front row seat on the middle tier, which afforded excellent views.

The production was an all woman cast, so I guess it does qualify as experimental theater. They did do a good job, Richard III had an excellent stage presence and a good sense of humor while interacting with the audience. (At one point, she took a can of lager from one of the people, and had a swig.) With theater in the round, you had entrances from different locations, including some processions through the audience.

The battle was perhaps overly stylistic, but how do you show a battle on a stage?

After the theater, I made it to Lilywhites, where I bought Mike's jersey. I then went to Liverpool Street where I met Gavin, and we went for another curry. The conversation went into the evening, and included a conversation about inebriated behavior in South Africa, the United States, and the United Kingdom. Shortly thereafter, we were given the excellent example of poor behavior, when a drunk just vomited at the table next to ours at the pub. Pleasant.

I made it back to the Palace Hotel, and got a decent night's sleep.

Saturday was my last full day in London. I had completed my required shopping, so I planned on a visit to Hampton Court, the palace for Kings Henry VIII through George II. This first entailed a ride on a train to Hampton Court, which took 35 minutes, and then a walk across the Thames to the palace itself.

Admission was £11.30, so it was not cheap. The exterior of the building is brick masonry, but the size is immense. One walks through the entrance gate to a courtyard, and from there on has access to several tours of rooms. The first tour was of the State Apartments, which included the great hall and the horn room. The great hall had several stained glass windows that dated from the Victorian Era. The horn room was an array of antlers. Other rooms had magnificent paintings, plus there was a chapel. Other tours were of the kings and queens' apartments, the kitchens, and Cardinal Wolsey's apartments. There was also an exhibit on the fire of 1986, and the damage repairs. Looking at the outside of the building, you could see where the masonry was re-set and cleaned after the fire.

Outside the palace was a series of gardens. There were the stylized gardens, and some open grasslands. To the north, there was a maze. Like many mazes of the era, one could find one's way in and out by using the right-hand rule.

I made it back to London at 2PM, when I had a doner kebab for lunch. I did some looking at DVD's, and ventured back to my hotel to begin to pack.

There's a fair bit of booty to pack, mainly as a result of my buying books. Books are not light. I decided on a bag in a bag approach, that way, for the long hauls to the airport, I can put everything in one bag, but for the flight, I can pull out a carry on bag.

At 6:30, I went for my last curry, at chillies, with Sandy and Steve, two Rangers fans I know. The discussion was lively, and I gave them copies of my book (provided by mutual friend Scott.) I had a lamb Ceylon curry. It was good to see them again.

Since Sandy wasn't feeling well, he had to go back to Southampton, so we ended the night early. I went back and finished packing before going to sleep at 11.

Sunday was my flight home. My large duffel weight so much, I could barely lift it. Worse, I had developed a sniffle and a mild sore throat, which later lead to some dry coughing on the flights. It took 30 minutes to sort through the re-ticketing issues, and I pulled the small bag out of the bigger one to check it, so I checked three bags.

The flight to Newark was in first class, and I watched some DVD's. Service was decent. On landing at Newark, the INS was not present for about five minutes while everybody queued. Then, it was 45 minutes to get my bags, then wait in another queue to re-check the luggage (most countries have the ability to handle the customs issues without the hassle of requiring everybody to collect and re-check baggage), wait in another queue to go back in through security, remove shoes, belt, etc, at the security checkpoint, and then have 15 minutes before boarding.

I'll never fly Continental to Europe again. Even though I paid an extra $500 for an upgradeable fare over the whole route, and spent 20,000 miles for the upgrade, I was not upgraded, yet again, on the domestic portion. Since that is seven hours in steerage, the trade offs are not worth it. Steerage on Virgin is only four hours more, it is a direct flight, and it flies from a much more accessible airport. Since you pay so much over the top, and pay so many miles, to only get half the trip upgraded is not worth it. Indeed, it is a rip off.

The steerage flight was full. And late. And the luggage belt broke.

It has reached the point in the United States where visiting the dentist is preferable to flying.

Anyway, apart from that, it was a great trip, and I had a lot of fun.