Prague - Brno - London April 18 - 25, 2003 a brief prologue to our long vacation

	My sister, yours truly, grandma, and my mother (from our family reunion)

	Andrejka and Lukas (from our family reunion)

I'm sure everyone (save for notorious workaholics) looks forward to his vacation and makes plans the whole year long, on where to go. An emigrant's situation is somewhat more complicated; besides places he wishes to visit, there are places he simply "must go". On the more pleasant side of affairs he wants to get together with his family and close friends, on the less enjoyable side his plans are bound to include spending his free time, treading worn out marble of oxygen-deprived halls and parading before sour-grinned bureaucratic faces, feeling like a Don Quixote involved in a modern rendering of fairy-tale Of a Cock and a Hen (one round rubber stamp deposit is contingent upon a completion of a set of at least five similarly rubber-stamped forms, all that looping in an unbreakable cycle).

Our vacation, too, seemed to take on a "fairly-taily" shape, as we needed new Czech passports. To our great delight, we found out that these can be obtained, using good old mail service, from a Consulate General of Czech Republic in L.A.
What of the fact, that my earlobe all turned blue from the handset during endless listening to "gee, mizzzz, what were ya thinkin', I'm waaay too busy for you to ask me, where would we come if anyone would want things like you do, seeee?", while trying to figure out their mutually contradicting instructions regarding our necessary steps to let this esteemed office kindly gaze down from their diplomatic elevations and consider our (certainly most rude) application for a service they are supposed to provide for citizens of a country they represent?

	Astrohall, Valdštejn Palace, Prague

Having solved our bureaucratic problem, we suddenly had all the time in Czech Republic to make pleasant visitation. Unfortunately, we came at a wrong time. Easter is not a national holiday in the U.S., we don't celebrate it, and so we noticed the date only after we had bought our tickets. Some complications ensued -- Prague airport car rental firms don't work after seven p.m. (we were scheduled to arrive just about then), so we had to seek alternative means of transportation. We were rescued by Des and George -- couple people of the few who did not leave the city for the whole extended weekend.

On Easter Sunday, we, too, went "outdoors". My aunt had organized an informal family reunion at their weekend house in Stříbrná Skalice, and there we met with many relatives whom Sid never met before. Weather cooperated and most of the reunion took place during a pleasant spring afternoon, outside on a deck.

Our program continued on Easter Monday, with a challenging feeding session in Brno at Sid's mom's, who is an irresistible cook. Tuesday night we also had a table reserved at Pegas micro-brewery, and a diverse mix of old friends showed up. We would like to use this opportunity to thank everybody who found a moment for us, as well as their offspring, who postponed fevers, diarrheas and other traumatic emergencies, and most of all we'd like to thank Jardák, who had organized this party. A similar happening took place in Prague on Wednesday, ditto about it (besides the fact that it was organized by Péťa, who deserves our thanks).

	Observatory building at Greenwich, with the 0th meridian mark. Careful reader may find our reflections in the glass.

On Thursday we managed to fit in a lunch with my mom, and thanks to her we had a tour through otherwise inaccessible parts of a renovated Valdštejn Palace, at the time the seat of Czech Senate. As far as I know, Valdštejn is open for public on national anniversaries, I highly recommend it to your kind attention.

	The famous London's Thames River, with Tower Bridge in background

Thus ended our emigrant vacation, and the real one began. We stepped off the plane in London relatively adapted to time zone changes, and eager for new adventures. They began earlier than we had anticipated. Having had a car reserved with a rental agency (through Expedia, which, as it turns out, the agencies despise with a passion), we expected to locate and approach a counter somewhere inside the arrivals hall, where we would obtain keys and instructions where our vehicle is parked. Reality was such that after some twenty minutes of rolling our luggage up and down the hall we found out that the rental office (advertised as Airport Office) can actually be only reached (for a fee) by only one of four airport bus lines, and is located several miles away. In good time we also discovered that it of course was to be the only line which skipped twice its normal schedule, hence the bus did not go for about an hour.

They told us at the rental office that they did not have a car for us, which we had ordered, and offered us a LARGER one. (So it came that we, who disfavor minivans, spent a whole vacation driving one.) Original price rate, advertised on the net, automatically tripled with the advent of the end of opening time (namely, through various surcharges, e.g. for the fact that we take turns in driving, or for the convenience of the rental office being so easily accessible from the airport, as well as the fact that the office counter was actually located in a service corridor of a posh-aspiring hotel, where we did not intend to stay; all these rates then were multiple times subject to value added tax, to make us feel sufficiently valued). Before we sorted through all the paperwork and haggling, it was ten p.m. and we still had to drive across half of Great London to Vicky's. I voted and decided to let Sid drive, while I shall navigate him over thousands of roundabouts, reminding him (just to be sure) on every intersection to "drive on LEFT side!" We reached Vicky's place quite late and totally exhausted -- fortunately we were denied neither dinner nor bed. Oliver opted to show us at night what it means to have a small child, and shortly after midnight exercised his lungs for some thirty minutes. I must say that realizing the fact that it WAS NOT my child and therefore it was not ME to go and do something about it, put me reliably back to sleep.

	Big Ben. It just began to rain...

	My strong man was tasked with pushing the pram up on Greenwich. Please notice how much Oliver is enjoying it.

Oliver grinned in the morning as if nothing ever happened and seemed entertained to take a ride along with us and Vicky, taking a small tour of London. We wanted to see Greenwich and the 0th meridian, going there on the tube and then switching to a boat. I recommend this ride on Thames - you'll see most of London's attractions in the comfort of a steamboat's lounge equipped with a bar and toilets. Unfortunately, weather did not play along and so most of our pictures look gray on gray. My most intimate encounter with the city happened around St. Paul's - at this famous cathedral, my lunch decided to depart in most hurried way and I was forced to peruse an automated public toilet booth. A very frightening moment came when I started to feel that I would not be able to fit within the measured maximum of fifteen minutes, and mechanical sliding door would indeed open automatically as announced by a threatening sign from the inside. Well, it was either just a bluff or I managed to stop the time for a while (I fit within the allotted time).

Vicky had invited Guy for dinner, on of the members of L&WMNT I used to travel all over England ten years ago, when I came here for the first time. It was a small surprise - mostly in finding that some people never change. We are simply still young and beautiful!!!

We packed our stuff in the morning and rushed westwards, kind of into the unknown and uncertain. And above all -- not to forget, one drives LEFT here!!

Copyright © 2003-2005 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.