Last night’s sushi dinner took place in a restaurant spread across a number of interconnected vaults — reminiscent of Edinburgh’s vaulted nightclubs and pubs, except that this was more plastery, less cobbly. The chef was from The Four Seasons, Michelin-accredited. And handsome; there are lots of beautiful people here, though they also smoke like demons.
So the food was excellent, and I finally learned what the pickled ginger is for: cleaning your palate between different bites of sushi. I love wasabi, too; I like to use just enough so I almost cry. But we didn’t really keep up with the sushi after the first round; we were availing ourselves of the free white wine.
Gord, Robert, and I were joined by Gord’s friend Jan, then later met his work colleague Paul and his wife Marketa. (Jan and Marketa are both Czech, so it was nice to have their perspective on things throughout the evening.) I also got to speak to a woman from the Canadian embassy who was charming and quick. Something about her, something I couldn’t name, was distinctly Canadian, like she was someone I would have gone to school with. I liked that.
The evening wound down, but I wasn’t finished. My chorus mates have given me a taste for celebrating late into the night, and even though Gord had a call in the morning to try to convince all of IBM Europe to let him take over their commercial services (or something like that), I managed to get everyone to keep going. So we took a streetcar together across town and found another bar, where I got us a round of Becherovka, had an absinthe (with no water — ouch, my throat!), then continued on with the pivo (beer).
I’ve been enjoying Gord and Robert’s company immensely; as I said before, they’re good guys, and it turns out they’re great people to travel and visit with, too. Last night, though, I had the added fun of hanging out with and really liking people I just met. There’s nothing like spontaneous fun with strangers who suddenly feel like best friends.
This morning I woke up wondering who’d poisoned me (turns out it was me), and slept in as late as I could justify to myself. In the course of conversation last night, Robert found ouf the Marketa is a masseuse, so he decided to go for a massage today and offered to treat me to one, too. So we went for a bite to eat (pizza in the park, where a public address system announced that they were going to be testing the emergency siren — all of which felt very “Attention citizens!” to me, but of course I’m looking for signs of communism-remnants), then Marketa came to fetch us and we went to her studio.
Oh man. She was wonderful, very strong yet graceful in her movements, and I left her table standing taller and feeling like I’d been untied. (I’ve been carrying my overstuffed messenger bag everywhere lately, which pulls my back this way and that.) It was a perfect holiday thing to do, and, again, I’m feeling like someone who’s stumbled into living an awfully privileged life.
Gord’s just coming home from work now, picking up a car along the way so we can drive off to a place called Cesky Krumlov, which is apparently a UNESCO world heritage site. Jan talked excitedly last night about having recently won the use of an Alfa Romeo for a weekend, so after taking lessons to brush up on his driving skills, he sped off there by himself as a treat.
From there, we may head on to Austria. Great, just when I finally earned to say “please” and “thank you” in Czech! (Unlike other languages I’ve been exposed to, there’s just nothing to hang these words onto in my mind, because there’s no Latin root to look at and the sounds are unfamiliar.)
I’m nibbling on some coconut fudge Robert brought from Trinidad. It was funny talking to the woman from the embassy last night: “So you’re all Canadians?” Well, Gord’s from Canada and lives in Prague. Robert’s from Canada but now lives in Trinidad (he’s been going back and forth since 1973), and I’m from Canada but I live in Scotland and just got my UK citizenship. It’s not that we don’t like Canada, there’s just so much else out here!
