It was our final day in Prague and we had made the decision to go and visit the John Lennon wall. After waking up pretty late with a stinking hangover I was faced with a dilemma. I’d ran out of clothes. Now if you’ve been reading these posts each day you may have noticed a running theme with my attire? That’s right, I’ve been wearing the same clothes every day. The reason for this is that I packed light, maybe a little too light as I only brought with me one jacket and one pair of jeans assuming the weather would be nice. I was wrong. It’s rained at least once a day in each country and although it isn’t cold the average temperature is around 20 degrees. Got a couple of pairs of shorts and loads of t-shirts but they’re pretty redundant at the minute.
So I needed to do some washing, I was hungover, hungry and didn’t understand the instructions on the machine (couldn’t be bothered to read the instructions as they seemed long). After managing to get the washer on we had to kill a few hours so we popped next door for a quick breakfast. I had a full English with scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, beans and a tomato with a complimentary orange juice and a cafe latte. I asked them to remove the mushrooms from my order immediately, they came through on their word, there were no mushrooms present. Tiff had an omelette, I asked, “Is that omelette better than the Domlette I make you back home?” She said it wasn’t and I was happy.
After taking the washing out back at the hostel and strategically placing it around the room to dry, it was time to head out for the Lennon wall. On the way there I noticed a big hill with some strange zombie looking men on it…
I asked a passer by if these were extras in popular sitcom The Walking Dead? They said they hadn’t seen it, I said neither had I. We then glared from a different angle…
From this angle I thought they looked like they were practicing one of Michael Jacksons signature dance moves taken from the popular track ‘Smooth Criminal’.
As we walked along the footpath we noticed a tram going up the hill. We decided it would be nice to go up the mountain and see the view so we bought our tickets and waited in the queue before boarding the tram. It was here Tiff had a minor wobble. Through lack of water and excess amounts of alcohol throughout the last week she had started to feel under the weather. This was not helped by going backwards up a huge hill on a cramped tram…
Imagine this but with people on. I took a picture from right at the front so I could pretend I was the driver…
When we got to the top everything was expensive and there was nowhere to get a decent picture of the landscape so I got Tiff to take this…
She was pretty impressed with the gardens up there but all I could see was loads of different coloured roses. It inspired me to write this short poem…
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Get me down.
So after taking this picture of stuff from miles away it was time to head on to the John Lennon wall.
I’m a pretty big Lennon fan but have to say was fairly disappointed with the wall. There was just lots of painted lyrics on a wall in a rather run down area (many with incorrect spelling and punctuation). I saw someone I recognised from our 5-a side league down at Goals in Leeds on a Tuesday evening, I didn’t go over as it would have been too embarrassing, I just went to the other side of the wall instead. Nevertheless we got a couple of good pictures…
As it was our last night in Prague we decided to go for an Italian…
They had what looked to be record sleeves for place mats. We both had a lasagne. Tiff rated hers 8/10 and I gave mine a 7 as I felt it was a little too saucy. Being a gentleman I poured the wine…
For myself.
After some lovely food we decided to head down to ‘Charlies’ one final time. The guy that runs the place is lovely and we always sit at the bar when we go in. He told us he hadn’t had a day off in seven years but had a holiday booked for next week. I looked to the ground, I had made a new friend…
Now I’m not a big fan of dogs but this was the loveliest I’d ever seen. We asked the owner for the dogs name, he said he didn’t know which I thought was strange but he was French. We stayed here for a few stellas, said our final farewells to the barman and left for the hostel. An early night in an attempt to claw back any energy exerted over the days previous.
Next stop Vienna where if i’m not mistaken is the origin of the icon of family desserts, with waves of soft ice cream and cracking chocolate flavours enjoyed by families across the UK and Ireland for over a quarter of a century…
Dom's diary 