Karma police, arrest this man...

...or at least, tell him to quit smoking and walking! As K and I were strolling down the Charles Bridge (Karluv Most) one lovely night in March and observed a gentleman smoking a cigarette, gesticulating wildly, and intently conversing with him partner. Of all of these activities, however, none of them included paying attention to where he was walking. Part of the bridge was under construction so a construction fence, with feet that stuck out, lined part of the bridge. Do you see where this is going? Mr. Smokesalot tripped over the fence feet. K and I tried to hide our giggles but after the second time of him tripping we clamped our hands over our mouths and just about lost it.

Since I'm clumsy, I warned K that karma was going to bit me in the butt for laughing at him for tripping. With Prague's incredibly uneven sidewalks (that's yet another entry), it was only a matter of time until I was paid back.

Is that English for "you paid too much?"

I'm in the midst of planning a trip to Prague and Berlin this spring. In my quest to travel on a budget, I subscribed to many different fare alert sites, travel review sites, online tour operators and other random sites to be as thorough as possible.

However, in doing so, I also drove myself crazy. What was the best deal? Which site was the best for finding the best deal? Why am I getting so many emails from one site and so few from another? Darn, airfare just went up! Where will we stay? Should I read reviews and find a hotel that sounds good, or should I wait for a special at a hotel and read the reviews and book from there? Why am I spending so much time on this when I have a million other things to do?

Time was flying by and I still hadn't booked; I was paralyzed by too many options. I then talked to someone who suggested visiting a travel agent. She believed that the agent could procure fares that I wouldn't have access to. Frustrated with all of my running in circles, I made an appointment with a local agent. After all, it would be supporting local business. I sent the agent a detailed emailed with our itinerary.
When I arrived at her office, she remarked that she thought I'd be older than I was (honestly, it flowed out of conversation and wasn't rude like it sounds here). As we were going over plans, I asked her if many people my age walked through the door. Yes, they did, but she was surprised that someone as traveled as I was had come in.

I then wondered if that was English for, "you paid too much and could've found a better price online."

However, I will say that she undid my inertia and the trip was booked and paid for that day. I could've spent forever trying to decide where to book. She was polite, helpful, and efficient. We neither overpaid for the trip nor did we net a stunning deal, but I'm happy with what she arranged and can get on with my life. The travel agency charged $40 for their services, which is really nothing at the end of the day for a 10-day trip for three people and about three hours of labor on the agent's part. Would I recommend a travel agency? Yes, I would, to those who want to leave the details up to someone else.

Frenchies, please count bettah!

Dear French language:

you are a beautiful language. I will give you that. Also, people who use you can come up with hilarious insults that still sound oh so pretty in your tongue. I would’ve never thought of putting someone down by calling them a shampooer of dogs. It sounds so fancy when one says it in French.

However, I take big issue with your numbering system. Look, I hate math. I love you, French language, because you’re oh so sexy and I’d feel pretentious and special if I could speak you properly. However, WHY do you have to be so difficult and after the number 60, we have to do math to say 70, 80, and 90? I mean, 60 + 10 is how one says 70 in French? How about saying septante? Oh, wait, your cousins in Switzerland say that. Your family in Canada says it that way too (yes, I know that French people don’t think that the Canadians speak “real” French, but they feel that they do, so I’m not getting into the middle of that one). And then, when we get to the number 80, we have to break out the multiplication. C’mon, people! Please don’t ask me to drop many of the last letters in pronunciation, remember the gender and number for words, and then have to do math on top of it. My poor little peabrain is liable to explode.

We'll tuck you in

Travel can be an exciting, fun adventure, but sometimes getting there isn't. With heightened security and steep taxes and fees, transit to one's destination can be nothing near a smooth journey. Heck, even just getting through security can suck some of the fun out of the inital phase of travel. Sometimes odd situations crop up in the security line.

I was talking to a traveler who recently experienced the full body scanners and more intrusive searches. Security screeners informed him that they'd be running their hands along the waistband of his pants. He wasn't exactly thrilled about it but there's no sense in arguing with someone who holds the fate of his travel plans, he thought. His travel companion had the same thing happen, but was a bit bemused when he returned. Apparently the person searching him tucked the travel companion's shirt back in. We had a giggle about that as it was a bit...odd!

How do I say where is the bathroom?

I can't believe I'm going here, but...In Europe, toilets are a wee* bit different. There are so-called "shelf-toilets" that use much less water. Basically, solid waste falls onto a shelf with a hole below (in a canyon type arrangement, perhaps). That way, the entire toilet bowl is not filling with water, thus saving the new "oil," as some call it.

Herein lies the problem, though: to those unaccustomed to "shelf" toilets, it can be a daunting experience to have one's...well, leavings so up close and personal. It's a great relief and the end of a sick fascination to flush away the contents of the shelf. With less water flow, however, it's not always such a clean "getaway," and often a handy-dandy toilet brush is conveniently located next to the toilet. Even in public restrooms, this brush is not reserved just for the cleaning person; it's expected that one cleans up after oneself if there is not a clean get away on the shelf.

*hehe, think about it!

I Yam at Walgreens

Detroit is in the news often now, as it makes for good Poverty Porn and sensational stories of rot and ruin. Journalists love to gawk at the abandoned buildings and often go on and on and on about the lack of chain supermarkets available to residents. Of course, the backlash to that is that the hipsters living in Detroit point out the excellent small supermarkets like La Colmena (I love Sam's Supermercado, myself -- but that's a whole other journal entry) or the excellence that is Detroit's Eastern Market, a large and flourishing farmers' market.

What they don't say is that one can find fresh produce in some odd corners of the city. I found such an odd juxtaposition of a canned retail experience and fresh vegetables at Walgreens, of all places! A friend and I had finished up some excellent swimming at Detroit's Belle Isle (which that, too, is another journal entry) and stopped in to the Walgreens near the island to buy some drinks. Near the register, a huge bin of sweet potatoes beckoned. Now, I've been to many Walgreens throughout Michigan and I have never before seen a bin of sweet potatoes, much less fresh vegetables, inside any location. That's what's so interesting about Detroit: the city always has some surprises in store for visitors.

My favorite place

Of all the places I've visited in the world, my favorite place is still one of the simpler ones and is relatively close to my home I've made as an adult.

It's the family cottage, painted in white and what my grandpa Toon (pronounced "tone") called a "restful green" (in other words, forest green). I'm not sure what's so alluring about the place; it is, after all, very rustic. It doesn't feature heat, a shower, or even hot water. However, it does feature many happy memories of lazy days at the lake and family adventures. Or maybe the allure is that as much as we want to own it, it's something we can't buy but we can enjoy.