Prague Diary: Getting There

Monday, September 14:

Since Mercury’s retrograde, I was determined to give myself enough time to get to the airport with obstacles. I ate a huge pasta lunch to fortify myself (because I am an army that moves on my stomach).

My mom drove me across the street to the train station with my luggage (since it’s uphill). I caught the 1:19 train, which was only three minutes late — a record for Metro North. No problem getting the seat in the front with the little indent for my suitcase, the backpack sitting on top of it. All good.

The train ride was exceptionally smooth. That should have been my first clue that something was going to go wrong down the line! The train even came in on an upper platform. I’m convinced that, whenever they see I have luggage, they radio ahead to say, “Make sure you put us as far away on the lower level as possible — she’s got baggage!” But we came in on an upper track.

The Samsonite bag rolls so smoothly that I kept looking back, thinking maybe the handle had come off in my hand and I didn’t have a suitcase with me.

Got across Grand Central, wandered across the street to the airport bus. Bought a round trip ticket. The bus came a few minutes later, I was loaded on, and off we went.

Costume Imp texted me that he was in the car on his way to the airport.

It wasn’t bad until we got onto Long Island. For some reason, there were cops EVERYWHERE and it was a parking lot. I wondered if there was some horrible accident, but we kept inching forward.

Costume Imp arrived at the airport and checked in. I was getting a bit tense.

In actuality, it didn’t take all that much longer than usual to get from the city to JFK — maybe an additional 15 minutes. But I had visions of not making the flight, in spite of leaving early.

I got there, Imp was waiting for me, and check-in was a breeze. I didn’t have to wait at all. Got the boarding pass, we went through security, and headed for our gate. We bought overpriced water and really bad coffee. I bought a couple of Godiva bars, in case British Air decided to act like a US carrier and not feed us.

We sat in our lounge. My iPod Touch wouldn’t connect to anything, which was frustrating, since I’d been promised everything would now work properly.

We also noticed that there were an awful lot of extra SWAT-types walking around, Feds, and various other guards. They walked through each lounge, making eye contact with every individual. In other words, they were looking for someone specific. But we didn’t know who or why. It was a little disconcerting. I was relieved that they were on top of it, but you could tell they were stressed.

We later learned that a terrorist plot aimed at New York had been thwarted, with several figures arrested, a key figure arrested in Denver, who was shipped back to New York for prosecution. Several raids had happened in Queens, which was why there were so many cops on every overpass, and traffic crawled. Again, disconcerting, but glad that they were on top of it and tragedy was averted.

And, when we got on the plane, there were extra police checking out each individual as they entered the ramp and then again, at the bottom of the ramp, just before we entered the plane.

We got settled in our seats. I had the aisle, Imp was in the middle, and there was a very nice young woman in the window seat, on her way to study for a semester in London. The seats on BA were much more comfortable than on United or American. They also gave us pillows and blankets, and little kits with headset, socks, eye mask, and toothbrush. I felt very pampered, after the US carriers who act like they’re doing you a favor by letting you on the plane in the first place. Imp still didn’t think they were as good as Virgin, but, never having flown Virgin, I couldn’t make the comparison.

We took off only a little late, settled into the air just fine. They served drinks — I had a rather mediocre red wine from California. Dinner was okay — some tortellini, with more mediocre wine and some of the worst coffee I’ve ever had in my life. We weren’t really in the mood to read, so we chatted.

Later, Imp tried to nap. I started Italo Calvino’s IF ON A WINTER’S NIGHT A TRAVELER, which is great, but I wasn’t in the mood to read. I wasn’t in the mood to watch a movie. I listened to some quiet music and tried to rest.

The descent into Heathrow was bad for my ears. Really painful, in spite of the precautions taken.

And then, we were regurgitated into the infamous Terminal 5, the new international terminal that’s supposedly so brilliant.

I loathed it.

I felt like a gerbil in a Habitrail.

We walked through glass-enclosed corridors up and down various levels (Habitrail), went through security and went through the terminal. We didn’t have a lot of time to make our connection. I wanted to get a British newspaper, but there was only one WH Smith close to where we disembarked, and nothing close to our next gate. I got progressively crankier as other people showed up in the lounge with newspapers! We did get some decent coffee, so I somewhat revived.

Our departure gate was A-10, which is another Habitrail maze they put you through before loading you on busses and driving you far out onto the tarmac before loading you onto the next plane.

I took the middle seat this time, giving Imp the aisle. These seats were larger and more comfortable than on the overseas leg. We got into the air reasonably on time. Unfortunately, the entire flight was just at the altitude that causes my ears the most pain, so the hour and change was agony. They fed us a fake English muffin (cold) with some sort of fake salmon spread on it and more bad coffee.

But we touched down in Prague on time. The first thing I saw made me froth at the mouth –all of the runways to the planes are plastered with Citibank logos. Now, we bailed them out with millions of dollars of TARP money so they could paint their logo over the Prague Airport? Needless to say, a letter to the TARP overseer is going out.

Security wasn’t a problem, and there we were. Mid-morning in Prague, up for nearly 24 hours.

I’d assumed we had vouchers to get to the hotel, but we didn’t; it wasn’t part of our package. I later found out hotels in Prague don’t do that. Taxis screw you and the airport shuttles aren’t much better. Fortunately, I had downloaded directions from the hotel’s website. We found an ATM for Imp to withdraw money (I had my first 4 days’ budget already in Czk).

We had to take a bus and then a metro. The ticket machines only had coins and we only had bills, so I left Imp outside with the luggage, smoking, and I went back in to get change. I found a transportation desk, and asked for the ticket that allows us to transfer. He shook his head and said we were going too far out to risk it — the ticket is only good for 75 minutes and one transfer. Praha 10 is far away, and we should purchase a day pass. I said I’d risk it. He also said we had to pay child’s fare for our suitcases. That’s not in any of the guidebooks, but since I know the fine is 900 czk if you don’t have the right tickets, I bought them. I later found out that it wasn’t a scam, that’s actually true.

I gave Imp his ticket and his suitcase’s ticket, and the 119 bus rolled up shortly thereafter. When you enter the bus or the tram or as you enter the metro station, you stamp your ticket. It gives the date and time. The inspectors can ask to see your tickets at any time and then fine you if you don’t have them or if they’re expired.

We got on the bus, punched our tickets, and got our first views of Prague. Out by the airport are still the beige concrete walls with barbed wire and then the block houses built under Communism. It reminded me a lot of East Germany in the 1970s and just after Reunification in the early 90s. Lots of busses, lots of streetcars, so public transport is the way to go.

It was about a 35 minute ride to Dejvickå, the first stop on the Metro line we needed, and the last stop for the 119 bus. We got off, rolled out suitcases into the station. Since it was the starting/ending stop of the line, we didn’t have to worry about direction. We knew our stop was 11 stops in, and the stop before it was a long stop starting with a “Z” — which we nicknamed “The Z stop” for the duration of our stay.

The metros are great. They run underground, are clean, fast, easy to navigate. One has to push the button to open the doors — they don’t open automatically. The metro was crowded, but a very nice woman sat opposite us. She reminded me of my mom’s best friend. She told us what phrase was used to mean the doors were closing (there’s no way I can spell it, so I won’t put it here). She loved Scotland, especially Glasgow, and was a big fan of Charles Rennie Macintosh. In fact, she was on her way to borrow a book about him from the library.

We got off at our stop (only 20 minutes from our starting point, well within our ticket time) and headed in the direction indicated by the hotel map. We saw “Billa”, the grocery store which was mentioned in hotel reviews, and headed in that direction. It was definitely a residential neighborhood, with blocks of flats on both sides of a wide boulevard. We headed towards a street called “Solidarity” — mostly because it was something we could pronounce. We saw a large building sticking up, and when we turned the corner, there was the Hotel Juno, which was to be our base for the coming week.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Waxing Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Cloudy and humid

Yesterday was a hit and miss day. The problems with UHaul continue — I can’t go into detail about it, unfortunately, but it will get very, very, VERY ugly tomorrow, and then there will be consequences.

The guy at the Genius Bar fixed my iPod in less than 10 minutes. I’m a little concerned because we couldn’t figure out WHY it went kerplooey, which to me indicates it could happen again (I always like to know the why), but it seems to work now. He did some Genius Bar magic and we re-entered information, and now it picks up wi-fi and is synched with MobileMe and doing all that stuff it’s supposed to do. I’ll know for sure this weekend, and then, if necessary, take it back. They were really nice in the store, as they always are, and they’re really good about herding people in a friendly way, so the rude, pushy people (the same ones who drive expensive cars and therefore feel that rules of the road and rules of basic courtesy don’t apply to them) don’t ride roughshod over everyone else. And the employees do it in such a friendly, humorous way that the a-holes don’t even realize they’re being herded. It’s quite an education to watch them do their thing.

I started spinning a story on the drive home, that I hope I can place with BOOKS FOR MONSTERS, since I enjoy working with them so much. I’m calling it comic urban fantasy, but it might veer off a bit in another direction.

Afternoon was spent fighting with UHaul, talking to a potential new client, and working on client projects.

It looks like I’ll get away for the weekend — provided I survive tomorrow, which will just be six ways of hell, if not more. There is no doubt in my mind that I will have to call for police intervention. That’s how out-of-control the situation has gotten.

Cooked pork chops smothered in garlic teriyaki sauce, with buttered noodles and crisp, steamed green beans. I haven’t had the chance to cook much this week, but intend to remedy that over the weekend and next week.

I’m really looking forward to a weekend of a whole lot of nothing. I will need to sleep a lot, eat a lot, drink a lot of wine, and maybe spend time by my friend’s pool after tomorrow.

Today, I’ve got to head to Trader Joe’s to stock up on cat food — we’ve only got two cans, and I can’t leave the cat sitter with an empty cupboard. The cats know what cupboard holds their food, and they are horrified when it’s opened and there’s not a tall stack of cans. We’re similar that way — we like well-stocked cupboards.

I’m going to try to get a little writing done, get the GDRS up, and prepare mentally for tomorrow.

Devon

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Sunday, June 14, 2009
Dark Moon
Pluto Retrograde
Supposed to be sunny, but who knows?

I’m typing this Saturday night and scheduling it to post Sunday morning, because, you guessed it, I’m at yet another Mac workshop this morning, this one in White Plains.

I hit the ground running early yesterday — checked to make sure the article posted on Sole Struck, worked on a refusal letter to a client — the terms aren’t acceptable, and I’m trying to say so politely.

I made the 9AM meeting with the Congresswoman. It was great to meet her, her staff was great, and I think I was the only person who was there to do more than simply howl. I thanked her for the help her office gave me on something awhile back, asked her to keep the screws on the banking industry (because the Big Banks are still determined to screw the customers), and we had a brief discussion on health care. When I mentioned I was coming down to the rally, she suggested I stop by her office, I’ll clear it with the staff, let the union people I’m travelling with know, and peel off from our other lobbyng duties in the afternoon so to do.

Since the meeting was right near D’Agostino’s, Ipopped into to pick up my favorite Silver Palate dressing. I’d hoped they had my favorite Scottish smoked salmon pate, but no such luck. Hoped to stop at a small, local sewing store to pick up bobbins and thread, but they weren’t open. Continued to a library sale, where I picked up some books for my mom and a research book I need for a gig I’m pitching. I also picked up some background research for a column I pitched yesterday about eco-friendly living, and for a column I’m about to pitch about holistic life choices for artists.

Continued on to check out a yoga studio I’d heard about — the website looks good, the prices are scale for this area. I came in to find a disgruntled staff, no easily accesable information about class schedules, etc. (I’m sorry but a frustrated sigh with an eye roll and “You can’t look it up on the web?” is NOT the kind of response that’s going to entice me to become a customer), and it was filled with small, screaming, sticky toddlers, all of whom took one look at me and Knew Better. They may have been small and sticky, but they were smarter than their parents. I turned to leave and Ms. Eye Roll-Sigher said, “You’re just walking out?” I turned and said, “I”m looking for a sanctuary, not Gymboree.”

So, that’s two local yoga studios on my “When Pigs Fly” list. The other one wouldn’t let me take a drop-in class, even paying cash — although that’s listed on their schedule, without me giving them my credit card info for “monthly billing.” When I explained that there would be months where I’m travelling and wouldn’t be taking classes, and only wanted to be charged for classes I actually took, I was told, “That’s not how we do things.” Well, guess what, bubblelah? I’m not going to be one of your customers, so at this point, it’s moot. In Massachussetts,they’re actually happy to see you and they want to show you around and have you take time to get to know the studio. Here in Westchester, they act like they’re doing you a favor by allowing you to take a paid class.

Anyway, after that debacle, I headed back home, hoping again to stop at the sewing store, but there was a Lexus SUV trying to crawl up my tail pipe, and I couldn’t pull over to park. Sigh. I’ll probably just drive to Hartsdale sometime next week to the place where I bought the machine to get the bobbins, bring the skirt, and match the thread properly.

Back home, spent about two hours doing receipts. I’m usually good about keeping receipts logged and current, but I haven’t done ANY this year. Two hours got a lot of it done, and now I have a bunch of stuff to file today, so it’s all good.

Off to Stamford in bad traffic and rain for the workshop. Traffic was a nightmare and it started to rain again (note to self: begin Ark construction; design invites). I got there early because I had questions about the iPod Touch, which were answered in a minute, because the people who work at Apple are actually helpful and tell you the truth. Then I wandered around the mall (I’m allergic to them — they give me headaches and make me sneeze). I stopped in at Brookstone to look for international power adaptors/convertors. Heaven forbid the Czech Republic be on the same type of current as anyone else — they’re on 230 (WTF?????). Anyway, when I buy the iPod Touch, I’ll meander two doors down and the guy there will outfit me with the correct adaptor so I can take it to Prague and synch with Mobile Me and online and photos and all the rest. I’ll probably just buy the whole international adaptor pack and ask for a cheat sheet, so no matter where I go, I can take my Stuff.

Anyway, the workshop was great, although I’ll have to play with the stuff we learned about Leopard, and Snow Damn Leopard’s already been released. Now, come on, people, I JUST bought my Mac and there’s already a new system? I’ll go see the snow leopards at the Bronx Zoo, but do I really need them in my computer? And I learned how to clean up what’s become a very cluttered desktop. There were only two of us, so we got to ask lots of questions, and Rebecca’s a great teacher, so it was a terrific class.

I am so getting an external hard drive so I can use Time Machine every week.

Came home, turned on MacGeorge, started to apply some of what I learned in class. It’s so nice to have things actually WORK. I’m still getting used to it.

Received a DVD in the mail of my play (TILL DEATH DO THEY PART), so I can watch that sometime in the next week or so. This was shot when the original cast was still together, before the performance I saw. I’m nervous, but excited to watch it.

Wrote some thank you notes, did some follow-up, ordered some books, and hung out in the evening

As I mentioned earlier, while you read this, i’ll be at yet another Mac workshop in White Plains. Eventually, I will have taken every imaginable workshop and know how to use CORRECTLY what’s in my computer, instead of puling out stuff and trying to learn it as I need it.

Worked out. I’m going to intensify my workouts to gain stamina for the next couple of months and get myself a good headspace.

When I get back from the workshop, I have to do a pile of ironing, catch up on receipts, work on the DIXIE DUST mailing, and spend most of the day on Confidential Job #1.

Have a good one!

Devon