Quick interjection for you folks, I apologize in advance for misspelt names or missing accents, I’m doing my best to find the correct spelling and names. Thanks.
Saturday, May 21 4th Day-
Went to a Czech yo-yo tournament with Mr. Coons held in a sweltering… vault, of sorts. Klub K4, the place was called, and the place was packed. I think that there was easily over 100 people in attendance, from whole families, tag-alongs (cough cough me), and a quite surprisingly high number of girls in attendance. As much as I don’t wish to cast dispersions upon American yo-yoing, all of the events I have seen photos of or attended have had very few females in attendance that weren’t mums, under 10, or competing. At this event, there were a very large amount of people who were just sort of there, and not really part of the yo-yoing scene directly. Very interesting, but very cool to see. Then again, I could just not see it and it is there, so please correct me if so.
Jeff won third place at the competition, bringing the pain, USA-style. So kudos to that. After the tournament, we met up with one of the judges (and fellow Duncan Crew member), Peter Kison and he invited us to his flat to wait for news of an after-party, and in any case, he had to walk his dog, Rex. At Peter’s flat, he introduced us to Rex, a very nice dog (“Good dog” is approximately translated as “Dobro pes” in Czech), as well as his wife’s two rats, Matthew and Jacob. Peter also introduced us to an apparently traditional Slovakian health remedy: shots. Two shots, one for each leg, in order to make you strong and keep you healthy. How often one hears that is impossible to conjecture, but I digress. So we were treated to two shots of some homemade plum vodka, and not being a hard liquor man, was quite an experience. Wasn’t all that bad really, it actually was the best vodka I’ve ever had (for the little I’ve had).
Peter’s dog still needed to be walked, so they walked (and I swayed a little) outside with Rex, where I discovered a very interesting facet of Czech living: no leash was needed to bring Rex out. Peter carried one with him, but there are a bunch of places around Prague that allow dogs to go about their respective dog business without a leash. We saw a couple of other dogs, and very unlike many dogs I’ve seen in my time (including my dog), they all got along with each other amazingly well. Again it could just be my ignorance of canine matters stateside, but at least I’ve never seen a dog without a leash that wasn’t a) in its yard, b) loose, bolting like a bat out of hell in the opposite direction of their fruitlessly pleading owners, or c) I can’t tell if that dog is rabid or just looks gross oh jeeze get away from me oh why are you following me why does this have to happen to me? Back to the main point, it was really nice to see well-behaving dogs around well-behaving people on a warm summer day in a park.
After a little of watching the dog play, we met up with Peter’s wife, Dusana, and went to a restaurant close to their flat. We hadn’t heard if there was an after-party or not by that point, so we took our time eating, and spent quite a while just sort of talking about differences in countries within Central Europe or how they relate to things back State-side. Not being much of a drinker, I really didn’t mind sitting and talking with Jeff, Peter, and Dusana (she can’t drink anyways, as they’re expecting a child), instead of being around a group of people just getting smashed. Many others would disagree, but I suppose I’m just not to wild about it.
We did end up getting a call about a small get-together at a “beer park” in the city (It’s sort of like a large, picnic table filled lot with beer booths, food booths, and a few large, stadium-type TVs. You are allowed to transfer your drinks to plastic cups and leave the lot to go drink in the nearby park, and so voila, beer park) so we bid Dusana adieu and began the long walk to the park.
We met up with Korda, Marie, and a slew of other yo-yoers from the contest, many of whom had already been at the park for quite some time.
As a quick aside, I’m finding that dark beer is basically non-existent in most bars, and if there is some, it’s only bottled. A couple places have had bottled Guinness, but for the same price one would normally pay for a pint from the tap back home. I’ve been repeatedly told it is because light beers are historic Czech beer types, but I just can’t help not being super fond of it. Oh well.
Back at the park, it was just going from dusk to twilight. The temperature was cooling down, and the stars were beginning to phase through the violet sunset and into the indigo night. Yo-yoers and company of varying degrees of sober were sitting in a messy circle in the grass, with a few outlying people holding conversations to themselves. A five liter jug of dirt cheap wine was being passed, or occasionally forced, from person to person, with rising laughter after each new victim tried the noxious brew. One 14-year-old yo-yoer was heavily intoxicated, hovering in unsteady, wavering circles around the groups of conversations. He seemed not sure what foot was what, what conversations he could even understand, or if any thoughts were in his head whatsoever. I wasn’t part of any conversations, as many of which were in Czech or about yo-yoing, neither of which I am a part of. I took a little walk, just to gaze at the stars, to be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes.
After some time, Marie wished to go home, and opted to show us the way home so Peter would be able to get home at some decent time (his flat was in the totally opposite direction). We made it home, and, well, that’s all there really is to it. Feel like I’m missing something, though. It was a very long day. Oh well.
Sunday the 22nd, we slept in, found some Wifi at some place that very well may have been a gay bar. “Resturace u Fausto,” I believe it was called. It may not have been, but a velvet trimming, black and white photos of assorted celebrities in assorted states of undress, and its soundtrack of disco, erotic club music, slow romantic tracks, and pop songs from the likes of Gaga, Queen, and the Backstreet Boys made me question its status as strictly a family establishment. I really have no complaints about it, the food was good, the Wifi was okay, and we had the joint to ourselves for the entire time we were there. It seems that Sundays in the Czech Republic are quite dead, almost no matter where you go.
Next time: Two castles, the Lennon Wall, tourist traps, and finally, dark beer.
