Overdue

So, I know this is late. But since I think I remember saying something about going to Prague (or if I didn't, I am now). If I didn't flesh out the details to Berlin, I'll have to recap that later. This is because the trip to Prague, Czech Republic, was epic.

Last Thursday, I caught the 2:19 pm train leaving for Prague along with two other girls. There was no careful planning; whatever had been in my bag for Berlin I took (but exchanged the underwear and socks). And, of course, I grabbed my passport.

So, I hop on the train after a full morning of classes and a severe lack of preparation, I left for Prague. I was armed with a handy book from the Regensburg Hauptbahnhof (train station) that told us the all the times of departure and arrival from Regensburg to Prague... along with transfers.

This was the first of the misadventures; I had read the schedule incorrectly and didn't realize we had a transfer. By the time we had stopped at the station, we realized the our mistake and quickly hopped onto the train for the five hour ride to Prague. Settling in I was armed with a book, a fully charged iPod with $30 worth of new music on it and a sense of relaxation after the almost bad turn in our trip.

After about ten minutes on the train, a police officer comes by. He says something in German and the German girl in front of me pulls out her passport and I follow suit. Happy that I've passed inspection, I realize my two companions are looking at me. I say, "He's just checking passports, no big."

The other two girls stare at me and then a flurry of movement happens. Both of them are tearing through their bags and purses and I already know: they don't have their passports.

Let me put this into perspective: These two have already traveled a lot and been out of the country. They're feelings about being here are carpe diem while in Europe. They're pretty fearless to the point of inconsiderateness sometimes. However, while making their plans for the weekend, they forgot the most important item on the checklist. I, on the otherhand, have never traveled without our program and my first time really experiencing indepedent travel was in Berlin... not that far away from our trip to Prague.

So, they don't have their passports. The police officer informs them that they'll have to get off at the next stop. In the five minutes we have to formulate a plan, we decide to send me to check into the hostel because it would be silly for me to repay for another ticket to get to the transfer station again. And I'll pay for the hostel. For all of us. For the entire time we're there (this including another guy who was arriving Saturday).

We say our good-byes and I end up talking to the German girl for the duration of the trip. I'm feeling pretty confortable and confidant. Then we get into the Czech Republic. And everything's in Czech. I become a little hesitant in my abilities to work my around the language here; there's no Latin or Germanic base in it
(obviously).

We arrive at the Prague train station and I step off and armed with directions to the hostel and a couple of koruns I bought off of someone who had come back from Prague. After exchanging the rest of my euros and obtaining a map, I sat down at a cafe, determined that I could find the hostel (we had been promised that it was only a fifteen minute walk from the train station). I walk outside and it's dark. There are lots of shady people around. I walk back in the train station.

I didn't want to be a failure at checking into the hostel, but I can't figure out the map... it's all in Czech. Go figure. I'm walking around and wondering if I could ask someone for directions. I had been using German so far, because English isn't as common as German in Prague. That and I don't know Czech. Then, I see a sign. "TAXI."

I took the easy way out and paid 500 Koruns for a taxi ride. That's about 20 Euro. That was about 28 Dollars at the time I paid for it. Most expensive taxi ride of my life and it was well worth it. I ended up in on a shady street and wandering up and down, watching probable drug deals going down. I finally find the hostel behind a pile of trash cans and quickly push the button that says "hostel," buzzing the lady from upstairs. I hide myself in the room for the rest of the night.

I'll continue this Prague blog tomorrow... Prague Part II: The city tour and the return home.