Monday, May 11, 2009

Czech This Out

There's so many ways to spin the Czech Republic's name into a witty title, but I think I took the best, least embarrassing way and didn't try to make anything too goofy. The country (or at least Prague) is filled with cheesy shirts saying things like "Czech Me Out", so it seemed a little fitting that I do my best to fit in.

So, after our stint in Romania spent chasing stories and ghosts of Dracula and Vlad Tepes, Shannon and I caught the train to Krakow, in Poland. We made a rather sudden and drastic change to our original plan - originally we had planned on traveling west from Romania through Serbia, Bosnia and Croatia, then traveling north into the Czech Republic. This plan, nice as it was, meant lots of short little stops, with 2-3 nights per city in what both of us felt was more of a "check that one off the list" kind of travel, rather than making the most of our time on the road and visiting places we really wanted to see. And so, we went north to Krakow so that we could see Auschuwitz.

Krakow itself is a pretty fantastic city, with plenty of that eastern-European medieval feel to it. Of course, I'm sure there's a proper way to describe this kind of big-brick pre-war architecture, but I'm completely clueless on how best to do it. I suppose it's best to think of large open squares with plenty of church towers, horse and carriages, and lots of cobble-stone roadways.

An hour outside of town is Auschuwitz, the largest of the Nazi concentration camps. It was a trip well worth the time and effort, though it's impact was extremely diminished by the hordes of high school students on field trips that same day. Most of the most imporant sights were within the basements of buildings or in crowded bunk-bed rooms, meaning you had to fight for each inch of space amongst gangs of pimply-faced boys and overly-perfumed girls, all of whom took as little notice as possible of the savage history that surrounded them and gave most of their attention towards each other or to making fun of the historical situations. I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on these goofy young kids - after all, I hardly would have been any better at their age, but it certainly took a lot away from such an emotional and significant site. Anyway, by the end of the day we managed to get a little "alone time" from the damn wiener kids and give some real appreciation for the magnatude of how many people died there. Since visiting Auschuwitz and talking about the concentration camps, I'm amazed at how many people have family so directly affected by what happened in Poland (and other places) so long ago.

After Poland, we caught a train to Prague, which prior to visiting, and even now I suppose, I knew/know so little of. I think Prague is part of Bavaria, that beer-drinking culture part of the world in both Germany and other countries, where the folks seem to be a little larger and the leider-hosen a little more out there. And based on the touts trying to sell you things, classical music sure has some strong roots in Prague.

You know, you can always get a pretty good idea of what a place is about based on what people are trying to sell you. In every town, on any busy street, there always seems to be someone out handing flyers to people or wearing a sandwich board, telling you what's for sale and what you should be visiting. I think I learned more about the Czech Republic in this way than any other, and from this, I think I would size the country up as being very into classical music, big on it's beer, proud of its communist heritage, and full of people who love making glass souvenirs. If there is anyone who disagrees with this, take it up with the tourist folks trolling the streets of Prague.

We're in Berlin now, which is one kick-ass town, and I'm pretty happy to be here. I'll take a bit more time to write about Berlin later, which I should be able to do this week, as we're staying a few more days and soaking it up as much as possible. After that, it's Amsterdam, then London, Iceland, and back to Canada. It's getting close to the end, and while I'm certainly not ready to leave, it has been getting a little tiring at times being on the road. Earlier I mentioned how most of my clothes have been somewhat destroyed from backpacking, well now I'm noticing my whole body falling apart on me. Well, not falling apart, but melting away. I've lost a few pounds on the road, but I certainly haven't lost any fat. So instead, I've developed arms that look more like fingers, and a chest that most 12 year olds would scoff at. By no means was I a monster coming out of Korea, but 6 months in the gym followed by 6 months lifiting beer mugs makes for one bad before-and-after photo spread. Fortunately the tabloid types and there "who let themselves go this month" magazine spreads won't be doing a special on me, but its something I've certainly noticed myself, and I'm looking forward to remedying back in Canada.

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