'Arrival Day' in a new city, state or country, I feel foreshadows what is to come. If the day is too difficult, you've probably made a terrible mistake and should go home. If it's too easy, you've probably made a terrible mistep and haven't moved far enough out of your boring little comfort zone. If the day full of challenges you sucessful overcome, you'll be fine.
I arrived in Prague in late June, it was the second time I had been there, the first being three years earlier when I had lived there breifly. I had an amazing time, so I made a half-hearted promise to myself that once the time was right I would return. Of course I made this promise never for a second thinking it would be anything other than a quick holiday. The funny thing about opportunities is they are so fleeting. We are so wrapped up living the life that we think we should be living, that we forget that it is possible to change course for no logical reason. An opportunity arose, and it felt right that I return to this place where I have so many happy memories. In addition, the move seemed an ideal escape route from my enjoyable- yet somewhat dead-end part-time jobs and my pattern of destructive soul-crushing relationship(S) back in L.A. So, I left the U.S.A for the third time, in the same manner of the first two times, waving my middle finger recklessly at any emblem of America and declaring my emancipation from the shackles of the land of the free- home of the capitalistic sinkhole and it's brainwashed citizenry- not to put too fine a point on it.
The transatlantic flight was one of the more interesting flights I have ever been on, I took New Zealand Air for one thing; LAX to LHR, seemed like a mistake when I booked the flight, but turns out it was the second leg of the Auckland- London flight. I was seated next to a sweet little chap of about 10 years who was traveling alone; a divorce statistic, mother lives in New Zealand, father in England, thus he made this journey with some regularity- poor kid. I figured, although I had the dreaded middle seat, at least I could probably pilfer some of his unused leg room when the sleeping hours got underway. On the other side of me was a intelligent British women, we chatted each other up for the first hour or so, she owned a textiles company and seemed to have an interesting life. Naturally, I invented a life nothing like my own, (it's a little tradition I have to entertain myself on long flights or first dates lacking the potential of a second) I think I may of told her I was a Norwegian Au Par, that had been working in the California until I feel in love with a married older man, whom was the friend of the father of the children under my charge. As the story went, there was a big fight when this married man told my employeer of our mad affair, so I was now returning home to work on my families lingonberry farm. (I couldn't say that I was having an affair with the father, that would have been too predictable!) The boy next to me was pretty quiet at first, just sat looking out the window, and listening to his ipod Touch (that should have been my first clue that this little guy would be trouble).
During dinner we hit a little turbulence, because that's just what happens when you order red wine on an airplane, it never fails. My British friend and I just kept our spirits up by keeping the booze flowing even after dinner, some more wine, a mini vodka/soda or five. It was getting difficult to stay in character the more lushy I got. I think the youngster next to us was jealous of our slightly brash drunken banter and decided he wanted to participate, so he started downing coca cola and cookies in quick secession. I watched this brazen little bastard order a six-pack of cola, and a massive handful of chocolate cookies. Each brought one after another by the evil flight attendants, who clearly have no idea what effect these products inflict on the passenger seated next to a adolescent boy consumming them in large quantities! About five hours into the flight the little dude was off his ass! He was unstoppably chatty and wanted to play trivia games with me and my drunken British comrade for the remainder of the trip, I would be just about to doze off and the little bugger next to me you pinch my face or sock me in the arm to get my attention. If that flight had been delayed or if we had to circle a minute after the designated arrival time, there would have been some serious child abuse Economy class, row L!
One the second leg of the flight I was seated next to an anti-social elderly couple in the emergency row, thank-you-very-much! I stretched my legs, and opened by book which I was excited to get back to as I didn't get a chance on the previous flight. It was warm, no ventilation, "oh well" I thought, we will take off shortly and it will come on then. I waited- we all waited. I sweated, we all sweated. Water was served, yet the toilets were off limits. Seemed there is something wrong with the plane and we would be delayed on the tarmac during the repair process. "No need to disembark the plane, clearly sitting in a tin box in summer is a fine place to leave 100 or so weary travelers." Eventually we got going, the air conditioning came on, I had almost finished my book when we landed in Ruzyne. Then I promptly left my book with that last remining chapter unread on the plane and off I went to start the next chapter in my life.
***************************************
Everything went accordingly, it didn't feel like I was in a foreign country as everyone did what people always do in airports, which is act like they had never been in public before, and remain in total denial that other people have the right to share the space they occupy. I often finds myself asking the question, in places like airports: "am I invisible today?" just as a large man steps directly in front of me totally blocking my view of the luggage carosel, or when a small child running around with no obvious supervision runs smack into me, followed by the "where did you come from? look". The luggaged arrived, and off I went to meet my driver, at first I didn't see him, but eventually a friendly face came up to me and asked if I was who I am, and off we went. I was a little sad he didn't have sign, instead he'd been give an picture of me, no sign required. I am always a little jealous of people who have official looking drivers who greet them with typed signs with their name, makes them seem really important. Since the majority of my travels are done alone from start to finish, I find myself also being quite touched when I see wives, husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends, or children waiting for people to arrive with open arms and flowers. I think this is why I really enjoy picking people up from the airport; I want to be that person who makes people feel welcome and missed.
The car ride was strange because my driver didn't speak a whole lot of English, although he was willing to try. I probably annoyed him with my non-stop commentary and small talk. The ride was long, we went through downtown Prague, and through the countryside, very flat it twas. He asked me if I needed to stop to use the bathroom several times, and promised it was no problem. Was I crossing my legs ackwardly or something? I figured we were there when we turned off the main highway and went through a village, which was VERY small and sad looking, I was glad that wasn't it. We continued through a forested area; "did this guy know where he was going?" He took some calls on speaker phone, one being my boss, the other being his girlfriend. Earlier, I had shared my only Czech phrase "jsem svvobodny" (I'm single) so perhaps he was feeling guilty already. When we finally came to another town it had been a good 30 minutes since the last, I saw some smoke stacks and factories, some small houses, I was feeling like Ren did the opening seen of Footloose. This town was so small and so remote! My driver pointed out some key points of interest and dropped me at my hotel, where did "kick off my Sunday shoes" and relax, ahhhh but not for long, the night was young .
