I hazard to contribute any of my own comparatively milquetoast travel tales here, but the Prague connection is too seductive!
Studying poetry at Charles University for the summer semester of my (never completed) MFA, I ditched the whole miserable thing mid-session in favor of renting a Skoda and making a bee line to the Costa Brava. No plans save a general direction, only enough money for gas, sleeping in car parks and eating canned choucroute on the beach.
One of my best decisions ever.
I couldn’t be more delighted to know these essays will make their way into book form, Mr. Switter. For all our sakes, no plan b! 😉
My greatest fear is that any memoir I write will end up on the fiction shelves. I mean, is it even possible for one person to end upside down in so many stories?
You had an excellent adventure. The only things I can think of that would have improved it is if you had rented an East German Trabant, the smoky little commie cars made from Soviet cotton waste mixed with some kind of East German chemical to make a plastic car body. Or a Citroen 2CV. Really ugly, 18 hp, but with a sunroof so long you could probably haul a horse in one. Oh, and ate ludefisk 2 meals out of three. That would be hard core misery tourism.
If your improvement on my adventure is any indication, would fiction v. non matter?? Belief is the choice of the believer, after all. Screw’em if they can’t take a joke.
I’d take both those cars for the sheer terror of driving them on open roads, but you can keep the ludefisk. The near height of my misery tolerance.
Misery tourism. It is all relative. Some women would consider it misery tourism to have to stay in a hotel room with only a 40-watt light-bulb by which to put on make-up. I don't know how you endured these types of adventures, Colonel. I would have been scared witless.
A Wartburg!!!! I traveled in Germany in '88 (before the wall came down) and again in '91 and Wartburgs were the #1 vehicle at that time. I think of them often. Damn small cars, fit well for those narrow streets.
I call them sketches, as in not polished pieces, to use as raw material for a memoir. It will help a lot to have 300+ posts to use as grist for the mill.
Great story as usual, definitely one for the eventual book. It reminds me of Ryszard Kapuscinski’s Another Day of Life where he avoids catastrophe by being flexible and improvisational.
Also, as an aside, I like the idea of sending potential employers a mudflap instead of a resume to see if you’re the right fit for the job.
Always interesting adventures. You should write a book.
I hazard to contribute any of my own comparatively milquetoast travel tales here, but the Prague connection is too seductive!
Studying poetry at Charles University for the summer semester of my (never completed) MFA, I ditched the whole miserable thing mid-session in favor of renting a Skoda and making a bee line to the Costa Brava. No plans save a general direction, only enough money for gas, sleeping in car parks and eating canned choucroute on the beach.
One of my best decisions ever.
I couldn’t be more delighted to know these essays will make their way into book form, Mr. Switter. For all our sakes, no plan b! 😉
My greatest fear is that any memoir I write will end up on the fiction shelves. I mean, is it even possible for one person to end upside down in so many stories?
You had an excellent adventure. The only things I can think of that would have improved it is if you had rented an East German Trabant, the smoky little commie cars made from Soviet cotton waste mixed with some kind of East German chemical to make a plastic car body. Or a Citroen 2CV. Really ugly, 18 hp, but with a sunroof so long you could probably haul a horse in one. Oh, and ate ludefisk 2 meals out of three. That would be hard core misery tourism.
If your improvement on my adventure is any indication, would fiction v. non matter?? Belief is the choice of the believer, after all. Screw’em if they can’t take a joke.
I’d take both those cars for the sheer terror of driving them on open roads, but you can keep the ludefisk. The near height of my misery tolerance.
Misery tourism. It is all relative. Some women would consider it misery tourism to have to stay in a hotel room with only a 40-watt light-bulb by which to put on make-up. I don't know how you endured these types of adventures, Colonel. I would have been scared witless.
The food was often the most challenging part of misery tourism.
A Wartburg!!!! I traveled in Germany in '88 (before the wall came down) and again in '91 and Wartburgs were the #1 vehicle at that time. I think of them often. Damn small cars, fit well for those narrow streets.
Love your story.
I think VW bought out Wartburg, which makes them more sleek and reliable, but where is the fun in that?
Hopefully you’re adding all these stories to your book! What adventures!
I call them sketches, as in not polished pieces, to use as raw material for a memoir. It will help a lot to have 300+ posts to use as grist for the mill.
The. Let them eat durian.
Wooooow!!!!
Before I took that long, hot shower? Yes, wooooow is the correct answer.
Great story as usual, definitely one for the eventual book. It reminds me of Ryszard Kapuscinski’s Another Day of Life where he avoids catastrophe by being flexible and improvisational.
Also, as an aside, I like the idea of sending potential employers a mudflap instead of a resume to see if you’re the right fit for the job.
I will never maligned my travels in Israel again. Absolutely plush compared to your rabbit hole. Gobsmacked!