I toured the city on foot, had very nice dinners, and watched the world cup matches in the square on the big screens. It was good to see some American soccer fans that had assembled at a local Irish bar to watch the US vs Ghana match, but my joy soon turned to sorry. Not only because of the loss, but because Americans just don¡¯t understand football (soccer). Examples; one guy next to me getting excited at goal kicks; the bar erupting in the theme from Team America when we scored: America, FUCK YEAH!
Get me out of here!!
I caught a flight to Ostrava, then a taxi to Novy Jicin, 400 miles east or Prague, and just south of the border with Poland. Small town, just what I like; except no one speaks English¡..
Novy Jicin is a quaint little town where my friend Koichi's fiance Marketa is from, and where the wedding would take place. I walked around the town square trying to buy shoes and a shirt to match the suit that Koichi lent me for the wedding, and trying to make the old women at the clothing market laugh by singing the English chorus line to 'like a rhinestone cowboy' playing on the radio, in Czech. This was a more daunting task than I thought it would be, but I was able to get out with a nice shirt and a decent pair of dress shoes for under $20!
Spent the evenings running through the town and around the countryside, where I was stopped a couple of times by locals wanting to practice English. One guy got his practice by saying 'Yes, I speak English!' and then walked off! Small towns.
Wedding day arrived, and we all went to the square, and the family apartment where Koichi knocked on the door to ask for Marketa. Her mother came out and asked for cash. When she decided that what he gave her was not enough, she produced Marketa's brother dressed in a veil. Koichi protested and Marketa was presented in a beautiful white gown. We then drove to the castle grounds for the wedding.
Marketa had chosen a 1920 Rolls Royce to be her chariot to the grounds, which was about 60 KM away. Seeing how the car only did 50 KM per hour, the trip took longer than expected, and frustrated the 20 odd cars trying to get past our convoy. Marketa's brother forgot the rings at home, adding that extra layer of stress to the day!
The grounds were beautiful, and the weather was hot and sunny. Very nice setting.
Interesting choice of music for the brides' walk down the isle; a solo violinist playing 'Yesterday'. I silently sang along wondering about the choice. 'why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say'
Then came the Czech tradition of throwing a plate at the feet of the new couple and making him sweep up all of the pieces while the bride and her family yelled at him to get every piece.....ok, lets go get drunk on moonshine, eat an ENTIRE roast pig, then sit around in a circle while the groom, blindfolded, gropes the legs of all the women trying to find which girls is his new bride. He nailed it. She passed over him twice! ...the cousins placed bets on how long it would last!
Somewhere along the evening, our designated driver crossed over the line from sober to a complete wreck unable to complete a sentence; could have been the 14 shots of moonshine?
I knew he would go over to the other side, and decided to stop drinking early, making me the new driver. 50 KM to the hotel over hills and winding roads with no signs. I would have made it in under an hour had it not been for a slight delay.
I passed a car that was going pretty slowly after coming out of a round about. The car accelerated to catch up with me, and started tailgating me. I pulled over, and he passed, but then stopped about 50 yards in front of me, and started backing up, in the middle of a country road, in a former soviet strong hold. Not good says me. I have read all of the Bourne Identity books, so I know what can happen!
I take off and blow by him. He follows, and catches up, flashing his brights behind me. I keep up the pace for a mile or so, but the Daewoo just wont take the turns, so I pull over in front of a well lit house, and honk the horn a few times in hopes of waking up the residents so that we can have some company should things get nasty.
Then I notice the small flashing blue light in the back of the pursuing car, and the small words that read 'Special Police'... Oh shit!...
Two officers get out looking very pissed off. I get out with my hands up yelling 'sorry, I didn't know you were Police. They walk up, check me, check the car, and ask me what the hell I am doing in fairly fluent English. I told them that #1 they are in an unmarked car, and #2 the first rule in the Bourne Supremacy is that you never pull over for a car that is flashing its brights in the middle of nowhere! They did not find this amusing, and asked that my passengers get out. Ian was in no shape to get out, and murmured a few unintelligible words, but his girlfriend from Slovakia got out and started helping translate.
I asked her to tell them how HAPPY I was that they were police and not highway bandits, which got a laugh. I was then told that I read too many spy novels, which elicited a huge laugh from me, and we were off to the races. I told them that they should learn how to drive, because I almost lost them on a couple of turns!
They checked the papers, my license, accepted my negative response about drinking, and let us go. Had they smelled my breath, they would have passed out, and I would be in jail.
Karma and its mystical powers were not ready to allow any negativity into my travels just yet.
Ahoy and thanks for the adventure!