Emigrants Abroad August 8 - 26, 2007 (Almost) over north pole to Czech Republic - stopping in Brno - and the Highlands

	Rurik Viking, which had carried us back and forth between two continents

	A double load of kids is best pacified by ice cream for everyone Tom, Lisa, Kubík, Eliška

Due to the fact that we now pay four full tickets, we were selecting our flight to Czech republic carefully and at length; mostly with regard to price. Sid had finally found an obscure connection through Seattle, WA. Excited by the good deal we had not noticed that we were leaving two weeks before our granny would, hence an absurd situation ensued: while we were visiting ČR, granny was still visiting California. Although I was not too worried about our hyper-active retiree -- she's far too self-reliant.

Still it came as an relief at the San Francisco airport, when I received a text message saying that granny had arrived in good order home, including our bus she was driving back from the airport. I could switch off my cell phone and, after my packing marathon and all the nerves, I could finally let events and flight schedules take control. The children insisted on a sightseeing ride on the airport shuttle train -- Tommy had been looking forward to this privilege for several weeks. And then his dream came true -- he could step again on board of a great airplane.

He had somewhat caught me by surprise, asking when miss light attendant would come, for I told him she would bring some snacks. The missing *F* stuck with him despite all our explanations. There were more trains to ride at Seattle airport; alas, unlike in SFO, where you can watch the whole airport from their windows, SEA shuttles run in depressive underground tunnels. A feeling of B-class science fiction movie was emphasized by the fact that the airport was practically devoid of people. We had not met many travelers, but there were no local employees either -- and very few informative signs as well. Unsure of our bearing, we inched at our toddlers' pace through claustrophobic spaces and hoped to be inching in the right direction.

	All Czechia had gone expensive: a 3 minute merry-go-round ride for 20 Kč ($1)

	Although our kids were a stress for our granny from Brno, they played nicely together

Eventually, we had found our gate. Rurik Viking (our plane) was being prepared behind a glass wall and the kids could follow details of loading such a transatlantic giant. We were boarding among last passengers -- wanting to allow our offspring maximum time to run around and playing. The departure was quick from that point. Drink, eat a bag of pretzels; Tom bravely went to ask the light attendant for another one. Soon a dinner landed in front of us -- had I known that it would come this fast, I would not have allowed the kids to stuff themselves with pretzels. I had requested a kids' meal -- and was surprised that it consisted of a fried chicken nuggets and French fries. Adults got (at least by my reckoning) a much healthier rice and roasted chicken. I guess fries are something that a majority of children is willing to devour.

Suddenly it was nine p.m., lights on the plane went down and all of the passengers went to sleep. We had filled up the space in front of the children's seats by our carry-on luggage. After half hour of mutual jabbing, our row, too, turned quiet. Sid was napping; I could not, as it usually happens. Still I felt quite rested, to my own surprise. Hence we were deplaning in Copenhagen relatively refreshed. Rurik has left a great impression on us by its lavatories, which stayed, in contrast with our experience with airlines other than SAS, at a bearable level of contamination for the duration of the whole flight. Flying to Prague should be a piece of cake -- if SAS had served at least some water on board. Thanks to elevated security one is forbidden to bring liquids along -- and I find it unconscionable that they SELL a half pint bottle of regular water for five dollars. I understand that people who only take that one trip from Copenhagen to Prague can be without -- by we did not have any chance to drink while changing planes. (The only drinking fountain at the Copenhagen terminal was out of order, transit areas don't feature restaurants; one is permitted to resort to lapping water from a bathroom tap. Yummy and healthy, too, ain't it?) We had already endured fifteen hours in dehydrating environment. There's no doubt that airlines must make money and I don't mind that they charge for food and alcohol; let them charge for juices and sodas -- but why water?

	Raiding Annie's sovereignty: Adele, Annie, Lizzy, Tommy

A populous welcoming party had awaited us at the Prague airport -- all people stuffed themselves into two cars and drove over to Martina's place. There we had released all five children (two of ours, Blanka's two, plus Martina's Elizabeth) in the yard and tried to mix and match baby car seats and our heap of luggage into a loaned Ford Focus. After a snack, we drove toward Brno, following Blanka in the pilot car to avoid a traffic jam on D1 in Chodov.

	A stroller dating back to my sister became suddenly useful

The infamous Dee-one freeway has a world reputation -- and it had surprised us quite pleasantly. Besides a crazy thunderstorm near Humpolec, the traffic was rather smooth. I would even say that drivers became more civilized compared to seven years ago. When we reached our granny in Brno, the kids were in a good mood. Lisa groaned at three a.m., and Sid and I were awake for a while and talked, but there were no other drastic consequences of the time shift. Perhaps due to the fact that days were generally warm and sunny, and your body responds better to a nice weather. The Czech "steam bath" effect had startled me a bit. During my seven years in California I had apparently become a prairie creature, for I did sweat horribly while in Europe -- even in moments when the temperature got damn near freezing.

	Our kids don't get much chance to play with hay in America

On Thursday morning, we took our kids to a long awaited ride in a street car. We did some minor shopping and visited a model railway place. A get-together with our friends living in Brno had been arranged at The Farm restaurant. We had promised Tommy some children, but all our friends got cold feet, or their kids were gone to summer camps and such. Tom was rather disappointed, and so were we. Before moving to a new location, the Farm had used to offer a tiny playground -- the new place is all concrete. Still our children behaved and played together, giving us a chance to chat with our friends. It's amazing how you can enjoy talking with some people even though you see each other once in several years.

Blanka had promised to come down from Prague to give us company, with her whole family. We met at Baby Cafe Kickin that became our favorite last year, but this time we ran away after nary a half hour. The server made annoyed faces, kept disappearing to smoke out front, refused to bring regular water for the kids; their snacks had been reduced to chocolate bars and similar horrors -- all that had disgusted us for good. For lunch, we had moved to Taverna around a corner. And despite not advertising any accommodations for children, Taverna offers the most essential -- a relatively large outdoor area for the little ones, with a tiny playground, reasonable prices and service that will smoothly conjure specialties like plain pasta, additional plates and glasses, and who remains friendly.

	Ugh, I spilled it on me

	Little apples just for a child's palm

Saturday was devoted to family visiting. On our way there we had stopped at a Shell station, which offered a toy model of a Ferrari car for $1.50, if you pump 30 or more liters of gas. Thus Tommy had ceremonially selected one of the five car types available -- and Lisa had caused a horrible scene that she wants one, too. A German gentleman was next in line -- and the cashier had tried to explain in broken German that if he does not want a toy car, Lisa could buy it. The gentleman did not understand at all, which made the situation simpler yet -- he paid his gas and Lisa got her car. Guess which type she chose -- yes, the very same like Tommy...

Our family would normally converge to a country house of my aunt's, but since my uncle Honza was undergoing a surgery on the day before, the gathering got moved to my cousin Bara's apartment in Prague, allowing people to do hospital visits. On top of that, Bara had contracted an infection and was taking antibiotics -- all that while handicapped by a tiny baby and her three-year-old Annie, who demanded to have the "birthday" (read: exchange of presents), right after our kids had arrived. She had been looking forward to meet our children, and the result was expectable -- all kids acted up, Annie excited and enthusiastic, yet at the same time intimidated by the little intruders. Children fought once, damaged a chandelier, and Tom had slammed a door to the kitchen shut, so that it could not be opened again, which locked Bara's main access to a section of the apartment. Fortunately one can take a detour through a living room and the door should open with some help of proper tools, and we hope these damages were not permanent. For some reason, Bara insists we're still welcome there.

On Sunday we were moving from Brno granny to the country house and Prague granddad. I have the house associated with nostalgic memories of my youth; I was quite curious to find out how my kids would like it there. You always long to see your close ones like your favorite locations. Alas, over time the places shrink and deprecate -- our country house has somehow become quite smaller, the vast back yard with mysterious blackberry bushes is actually easy to cross with a few steps, and there's nothing deep about blackberry bushes anymore.

	One must collect, sort and truck the apples... it's an all-day job!

	Outdoor is the Czech-Moravian Highlands

The children rejoiced over the miniature room (made smaller still with our luggage), especially since it included my old cat Guláš, who has been living for seven years in granddad's care. They really don't know such luxury as having THEIR OWN CAT at home, they have to make do with animals in the neighborhood. Sadly (or fortunately), Guláš has become a feline retiree, with one paw in a grave. Old age had dulled his fighting nature and the most he would do is fend off the kids with a wicked hiss, he had never started after them, as it used to be his habit only a few years ago. Or is it possible that he has always been a gentleman and he would exclusively attack male visitors of an unwed young girl, while he would never harm a small child?

We had rummaged in the attic and pulled out a stroller that used to carry my sister; we broadcast among neighbors that we would love to borrow some spare toys. Soon several used toy trucks appeared in the back yard; along with some push-carts and shovels. The kids spent most of their wake time outdoors, we even dined in the yard. They could play with a garden hose, pick currants and apples, importantly help their grandfather in sorting and moving the apples (using their little plastic pickup trucks, of course). Moreover, there's granddad's workshop, where he does magnificent things -- like splitting wood for kindling. The house also contains flyswatters. Tom became a very daring insect hunter, which is another virtue we are unwilling to let him develop back home. The house has screens in the windows like our home does, but five people (including two incessantly running in and out) keep the door busy and so the flies have easy access. Although the weather turned sour in the middle of our stay, the children may have completely missed the change. They fluently transitioned from sandals to rubber boots, added sweat shirts, then windbreakers, and continued to spend most of their time running. I reckon that the whole stay in our country house turned out better than I had expected -- and my kids had discovered the vacation charm of one ordinary corner of the Highlands.

Copyright © 2007 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.