Today we decided to go on the Sandeman castle tour, as Prague has the biggest medieval castle complex in the world. On the way to the tour, Harrie purchased a selfie stick, resulting in a collection of some of the strangest selfies imaginable as we tried to work out how to use it. While walking through the streets of Prague, we stopped to check out a few of the free churches and synagogues that were pointed out yesterday.
However, while waiting to buy tickets, Harrie began feeling very ill and had to go home. We continued, and we were delighted when our tour guide was John Paul a tall and reasonably good looking American, we had spotted yesterday. After laughing about how closely his name sounded like Shaun Paul (our go-to artist for a night out), he was henceforth to be known as this. Lucy and Vicky were delighted with him and his confident attitude. The tour began by walking across Charles bridge and getting a short tram ride to the top. We visited the old royal palace, St. Vitus’ Cathedral, St George’s Basilica and Kafka’s House.
The tour was enjoyable; however, not as good as the free tour. We spent a lot of the time trying to work out what sport Shaun Paul played (we later discovered it was martial arts). Shaun Paul’s attractiveness was slightly ruined by the realisation of his mono-brow. Lucy decided this was not an issue and could be waxed off.
By the end of the tour, any of his appeal had disappeared entirely when he encouraged us to rub the statue of a child’s penis, as this is a Czech tradition and is suppose to bring fertility. We all declined.
Leaving the tour and without Harrie and her map reading skills, we were overwhelmed by how confusing the streets of Prague are. They are beautiful, yes, but even looking at a map of Prague centre is confusing they twist and turn and loop in such a confusing manner. We eventually made it back with just enough time to get ready for the bar crawl for Vicky’s birthday. Trying to coordinate showers had been an issue with four people, with five it was a timely mission, some days we would be rational determining whose hair took the longest to wash, some days it was whoever was the least tired, some days we have a numbered system.
Rushing to get ready we hadn’t left enough time to pre-drink so looking like typical Brits abroad we walked down the street drinking a bottle of prosecco. I’m not sure what the name of the company we went with was, but it began in Prague old town square. We arrived at the first bar and had an hour of free shots of either absinth or watered-down cranberry Vodka. After one shot of absinthe, we realised what an awful idea that was, however, the watered-down cranberry vodka was pathetic. We instead poured four into a cup, creating our own treble. In the next bar, we befriended a group of guys with very interesting t-shirts on, to try and find out what all their nicknames meant. The worst of which was towlie and heffer herder. I will leave you to ponder what they mean. Meanwhile, the bar crawl reps were driving themselves mad trying to do their job, as Prague has strict noise curfew rules, and we were continually shushed on the street.
While many of the bars were like their own mini club, our final destination was a disappointment. The club was massive with five floors, and it’s own ice bar. On a Monday night, it was relatively empty; the only floor that was busy was full of extremely creepy guys that just stared at any girl in the room. The main amusement was when Beth slipped and went skidding down the entire staircase and got caught by a large group of keen guys at the bottom, who looked like their dreams had just come true. So after a few hours, we followed the river to find our way to back to the hostel.