Finally, Tom has a friend here!

The pack at last together, lured by ice cream.

Tuesday September 21
I decided to devote the morning to relaxation, lazing around, doing some homework, watching TV — and having visitors. My former climbing partner, Péťa, stopped by on her way to work. Since I had been "chained" to my kids for the majority of our vacation, I could not just go out with my friends; I was bound to squeeze them into my family program and hours appropriate for children.

We had lunch in Adria (Můstek, downtown Prague), this time with my virtual friend Lea. Here, too, juniors received tap water for drinking — situation in Czech restaurants is indeed getting better. They had a children's corner, so kids found some entertainment there. And then we hurried on to the airport, to pick up daddy. Grandpa had offered to take Hippo with his car, but honestly — it's actually faster on the public transport, and give the fact that Hippo came only for five days and did not plan to carry any big bags, our trip on a few buses an in metro worked out quite well. As soon as Sid managed to take a shower, Nejedlys were ringing at the door. Suddenly there were eight people oscillating in the tiny one-bedroom flat (five of them children), but all was well: the house block is still upright. Kubíček brought Tom a birthday present: a Lego forklift; he also put it together right away. Tom was, fortunately, coping with it quite well, he accepted Kuba's authority in Lego and was happy to have a friend around. It's like this — Blanka is the only one of my friends who was compassionate enough to give birth to a boy of same age like Tom. The rest of them have younger girls and they aren't as interesting for Tom — he has to deal with a younger girl at home all the time.

The joy, when the two tunnels connected...

Two Lisas on a swing.

Eventually we managed to chase the pack out on a playground, which was already kept busy by at least half of the subdivision. Thirst came a-knocking after a while, so I went to fetch some water and ice cream to the market (which may have made me, for a moment, their most favorite adult). Meanwhile, Hippo set out on an exploratory quest — a RESTAURANT sign could be seen from the playground, hence we assumed that we could obtain some meals there for two families. Granny's flat, as it was, currently lacked a kitchen with stove, and I doubted that I would be able to cook for nine people (one of whom has a gluten-free diet), equipped with a microwave oven and a tea pot.

Sid returned in a longer while declaring he would not eat in the nearest establishment, even if they were offering food, as it was a very low class place — the very employees of this "restaurant" had been startled by his asking about meals. Nevertheless Hippo managed to check out another place in the vicinity and reserved a table for us at Divine Comedy. It subsequently became our reference spot for the rest of our stay — great cooking, non-smoking areas, friendly service — simply great; prices comparable with USA. Although the first night with five kids, who played a very uncompromising power play, would qualify in the category of adrenaline sports.

With Elizabeth on an elephant.

All ended well, we begged for cash and could eat in peace.

Wednesday September 22
We wanted the children to have a sense of family vacations, and we arranged for a massive trip to the ZOO. I haven't been to the one in Prague for maybe thirty years, and we also realized that our kids haven't been to any ZOO for at least two years. Various aquaria and children's museums are simply closer. We had a date with Kočička and her Elizabeth, with Kristina and her Elsa, and with our grandpa. Larger children immediately formed a pack and ran ahead at a fast pace. Even a steep hill did not slow them down, and we were forced to huff an puff quickly behind them. We voted Kočička the leader of the expedition, as the only one familiar with the Prague ZOO. She outlined us a route, which fell to pieces in the moment when Tom spotted a train. And thus we were bound to board the train; only at the other end of the line Kočička and I could have a coffee and restore our functions. The pack with undepleted energy terrorized the local playground and subsequently (at a trot, how else) set out to explore further attractions of the garden. Lisa was ever more loudly asking for elephants; Elizabeth demanded a fishing cat. At least Elsa could not speak yet, or I would want to have them all ejected to Mars.

Meanwhile lunchtime has arrived, so we pushed our way into another so called restaurant (more accurately, a cafeteria), loaded our plates, and an unexpected problem ensued — as we got used to paying with credit cards everywhere, we somehow did not think of checking our supply of cash. Hence Hippo blocked the register with our trays, and I rushed to the tables to mooch our grandpa and Kočička for banknotes so that we could pay. The lunch was otherwise fine, but juniors decided that our sitting around and finishing our beers took too long and first ran around and hollered; soon, however, there was quiet and the pack was nowhere to be found. This made me nervous, and I jumped up looking for them. They were lucky, I found them soon enough.

Grandpa and Elsa.

Finally a live, real elephant for Lisa.

Grandpa had to get back to work after the lunch and we finally set out for the elephants and fishing cat. Lisa should be commended for really enjoying the elephants — she claimed that she had never seen a real one before in her life, which sounded true — they did not have one at the San Francisco ZOO during our last visit two years ago. Hippo, on the other hand, demanded to see hippos, and thus we lingered at the pachyderm's pavilion for quite a while. We continued at gorillas' feeding time — and then wild cats, including the fishing cat, but by then all the children began to fade.

Still Tom asked to ride on a funicular, and we scraped our pockets and wallets for last cash — it sufficed for Tom's ticket and Lisa on my lap. Sid and Kristina with the pram walked to the exit, while our kids and I had fun on the funicular, passing parrots on our way down, and they filled Tom with awe. I don't know who was more tired at the end of the day — most likely it was us, the parents; kids regenerate quickly.

Thursday September 23
In the morning we packed the kids' little backpacks, loaded them in grandpa's car, and sent them to the country house. Sid and I took the mass transit to the other end of Prague to Kočička, who promised to loan us her car. I tried to call her a few times about us being late, but no luck. This made me somewhat worried. When we finally stood in front of their gate, looking at their house being remodeled, and rang several doorbells and called on the phone, both in vain, I began to not like it at all. Eventually I thought of opening the gate and simply walking in — which explained the mystery — the door bells were out of order and Kočička had gotten herself a new phone, on which she by mistake turned off the ringer (or something like that). We chatted for a short while and then we sped off to Brno — even so, we just made it there for lunch with Jára and Ivan.

Tom got his wish to ride on a funicular...

...and seriously check out the parrots.

After lunch we headed to a passport office, to pick up Hippos traveling papers. We really did not think that such a place would not be open at two o'clock in the afternoon — a closed gate changed our opinion with inevitability. I won't attempt to describe our subsequent attempt to pick up the ashes of Sid's mom (another negative on our to do list). Our last stop in Brno was Kroulák, who took care of the apartment after Sid's mom, where we had to close some affairs. Thank God for friends that you can rely on — for such friends were the only successful portion of our mission. We returned to our country house in the evening — to check out our children and fall in our beds. Grandpa looked more or less sane; juniors were happy they had gone mushroom hunting again. And they watched grandpa "make woodchips" (split wood) — well, one can never guess how mighty such a grandpa is.

Friday September 24
We overnighted at the country house and Hippo set out in the morning for a second round through Brno's offices. I devoted my time to the children a bit — they did nothing related to school on the previous day. We dithered around the house a bit, and when in the afternoon Sid came back (mission accomplished), grandpa lured us out to the Brtnice Creek and ruins of old castle Rokštejn. I guess it's a shame: I have been coming to this area for my whole life, but I heard about Rokštejn for the first time. And it seems that it's quite a famous fortress, thoroughly explored archeologically, since it was originally supposed to be flooded by a water reservoir. Its origins date back to the thirteenth century and during the time of margrave Jan Jindřich, brother of Karel IV, it was a very important place.

Rokštejn - the older Upper Palace.

Rokštejn - newer, more representative Lower Palace.

We all liked the ruin; children enjoyed unattended exploration and pondering that princesses lived in a castle (Telč), whereas knights lived in a fortress. They were hesitant to leave the location, but we intended to hike through a portion of the Brtnice creek valley. Given the task of spotting trail markers, they strayed from the thoughts of the fortress. Brtnice is indeed very beautiful (if I don't count in one depressive clearing some distance away from the fort): meadows, groves, rocks - and a creek. In one spot we had to cross it over a footbridge made from two narrow logs, which made especially happy the little members of our expeditions (no-one fell in the water, yay). After approximately two miles Lisa began to rumble about being tired and wanting to go back. We did not share her feelings, but given the advanced hour it was clear that we had only a chance hiking through the valley one way — and somebody was bound to return for the car and wait for the rest of the expedition in Brtnice town, six miles upstream from the fort. In the and it was I who volunteered as the driver and Lisa's companion.

I harbor a suspicion that Lisa mostly wanted to return to the fort. Having reached the lower armaments, a new life spurted into her veins and she had to quickly once again run amongst the ancient walls. Meanwhile, the men had to hike really hard, for before Lisa and I covered the two miles walking and six miles driving, they arrived at the other end of the trail. It was slowly getting dark and time had come to return to our house.

Gentlemen at the fort.

A Rokštejn window.

Saturday September 25
The weatherguessers had guessed right for once — we woke up in the morning into a creepy fog and drizzle — the sun-bathed valley of Brtnice seemed to exist in another time-space. And so we packed our stuff again, left grandpa behind in the house, and sped off in the direction Prague. Having unloaded at granny's flat again, we pondered the weather — while it looked more like crawling into bed, we whipped up our interest in a trip to Koněprusy Caves, (following the logic that it does not matter inside the cave, whether it rains outside or not). A ticketing geezer at the caves' parking lot suggested Špejchar in Želkovice for a lunch spot. We heeded his direction and did not regret it. Besides good service and excellent food, Špejchar is part of a horse riding club, and so Lisa could gaze at horses (we did run into a minor problem of getting her in for the meal and then forcing her to eat something before she ran off again into the unfriendly weather by the corrals).

Sufficiently refreshed for the caves, we really did not mind that it started raining again. Kids know limestone caves, and pointed out familiar features like rock bacon. They don't call a thin, translucent, stripey curtain bacon in Czech, but it's a pity — it really looks a lot like a piece of one.

Sunday September 26
In the morning we set out in the rain to score some orientation points — finding the house of my friend Zuzka, when the recommended highway ramp turned out to be closed and we had to take an guesswork detour. Well, it did not lead to our divorce in the end. Zuzka's husband Bob cooked potato soup and blueberry dumplings, Lisa crawled into Viktorka's room and apparently they found some strong common interest, for an incredible ruckus kept emanating from there and both girls were ecstatic. Tom was left out again a bit, and so he played with us in the living room at times, and sometimes he nudged the girls. We adults chatted about various things, as much the racket allowed it.

Lisa at Rokštejn.

Meadow in Brtnice Valley.

When we had to part, Lisa and Viktorka were cutely hugging, but there was nothing we could do. We had to pick up Hippo's baggage at granny's, return kids' car seats (borrowed from grandpa) and Sid then would return Kočička's car, while I followed with our children on the public transit. Alas, Sunday time tables are very sparse and our trip took us almost two hours. At least Tommy could enjoy traveling on a bus, in subway, and in a street car, and thus it was not much of a hassle.

Péťa with family also converged at Kočička's place, giving us a chance to populate their huge new living room. Sid had no beard this year, and nobody mistook him for Roman — although I must say that with Péťa's Ondra, they made a good triplet. It does not happen so often that I would have a problem identifying Sid among other people; he usually towers above his surroundings, but in this company he was merely average. I don't recall much what the kids were doing — I have a feeling that for much of the time they were out of range. Tom played with a toy crane (assisted partially by Roman), girls found somehow their own fun.

When Péťa left, we stuffed our kids and Elizabeth into her extendable bed, and Martina played a fairy tale for them. Of course nobody wanted to go to sleep, but when I went to talk strongly to them by ten in the evening, I discovered Tom having a fever. I recalled him complaining about head aches during dinner, but then his temperature was normal. I stuffed him with tylenols and pulled him out of the common bunk to my mattress in the office, to have him under control and limit the contagion.

Monday September 27
Tom was a bit better in the morning, but it was obvious he did not feel well. Lisa began to wet herself — but so that she could not make it to the bathroom. Hippo was scheduled to depart in a few hours; we had originally thought that we would accompany him to the airport, but in this moment it was clear that it would be stupid. I borrowed a diaper for Lisa and returned with our children to granny's flat, leaving Hippo to his fate (in the shape of Kočička, who took him to the airport). I would like to use this place to thank Kočička — for lending us her car; for patience with our children, who fell ill in the least convenient moment.

Lisa on a footbridge.

Koněprusy Caves.

On our way to Písnice I enraged some senior citizen, for I took his favorite seat with my ill Tom, who was barely able to stand. At that moment, I could not care less about any geezers. Lisa successfully managed to beg for a spot on a collapsible seat, and I did not have to hold her hand. We got out one stop earlier and bought some food for the evening and the obligatory brumíks for the flight trip. As I was dragging with my backpack (kids' sleeping bags, pajamas, toothbrushes etc.), with a shopping bag in each hand, additionally loaded with one sick, whimpering child, I felt like a heroine of some progressive-soc-realistic movie.

Our rescue came in the afternoon in the shape of our grandpa. He could take care of the children for a while, while I packed and packed and re-organized and cleaned up and got ready for getting up at three thirty a.m. Grandpa also brought us dinner, which I heated up in the microwave. When it began to seem that the world turned somewhat more rosy and orderly, Tom started to complain about sore throat and basically lost his voice. I treated him with what I had at hand — goji berry tea, tylenol, ginseng, and I hoped that it was not strep throat — since he would have to wait for its treatment till we reach California.

Tuesday September 28
I don't think I want to comment getting up at three thirty. I dressed the children while still half-asleep, but it seemed that Tom could talk again, and after cocoa and brumík, he seemed relatively healthy. Grandpa came to pick us up as agreed before, and we easily reached the airport. We checked in our baggage, so much lighter from our way in — we had given some presents, and shipped part of our dirty laundry with Hippo. We also had only two carry-ons — I was getting ready for the eventuality that I'd have to pull everything on my own, glad that the kids would walk by themselves at all during changes. Fortunately, they both got better, and thus they must have gotten one of the one-day viruses.

Crater Lake

Mt. Shasta

Mentally, I prepared for a marathon across Charles de Gaulle (or his airport, that is), but this time the local organization exceeded itself and we found a bus that transferred us between terminals. More so, an English-speaking person ordered people according to their destinations at the bus stop, which probably was a very good thing, for this phase of the trip remains quite fogged for me.

Another set of upper deck seats awaited us with our overseas flight, and the two row separation. Nice folks next to Tom immediately offered a swap, but I told them we preferred two window seats, as it is easier with children who then argue much less (at least that's what I think I had told them — I had not spoken French for almost twenty years, so it's possible that I had actually proudly announced something like "my goat prefers airy fashion and by five the driver be stopping on request"). Still it seemed they had understood (and had no further questions, that is).

A crisis ensued in a moment when the video system crashed, but eventually both kids successfully finished watching Ratatouille, third sequel of Shrek, and I think some Monsters, Inc. They fell asleep somewhere over Canada, and missed a beautiful view of Crater Lake and Shasta. Airplanes overfly them often, although it's a cloudy country and one has hard time to find reference spots. This time, all worked wonderfully.

Hippo awaited us at the airport with our bus (he had actually arrived almost twenty hours ahead of us — I got his text message that he landed OK, while I waited in a departure line at the Prague airport), and California welcomed us with its sunny Indian summer. Kids skipped one more day of school on Wednesday, and I forced them to go early to bed, to make up for their jet lag, while I washed and washed and washed (laundry). Beginning with Thursday, we re-entered our regular school routine, our vacation committed to memory.