Arriving somewhere. But not here

So, finally we’ve hit the ground. I have to tell you that much has happened since I last posted.

We arrived in Prague from Copenhagen on a very new and very well run and managed Czech Airways Airbus. The flight was just over one hour, so about 600km or so. However, in this time, they managed to serve us snack and a drink. Go Czechs!!! The landing was great. By great, I mean two for the price of one. So not that great. Bouncy-bouncy might be fine, but not when landing a plane. They should really speak to the pilots!Architecture of the Prague Airport was quite nice. The skyway was not used, and we deplaned into buses. I have no idea how we have not had a Czech Formula One World Champion until now– they need look no further than the airport bus drivers! Heavens on Earth!! Cruising speed takes on new meanings in Prague! However, this meant that we beat our luggage but quite a margin but finally our luggage arrived. So far so good. Now all we needed was our driver to be about to whisk us off to our rented apartment and we’d be set.

The there he was! We never did get his name. He DID say it, but probably as fast as he drove. We suspect he was intimidated by rumours of the speedy drivers on the airport apron, and was ‘testing his skills’ with passengers that would be able to compare. I have never seen a Skoda driven so fast and with so little regard for personal safety. Or the blinking warning lights on the dash. Those of you looking for a second-hand Skoda in Prague should skip whathisname’s when it comes up for sale.

Arriving in a foreign place in the dead of night in another hemisphere is bound to play silly buggers with your sense of direction. And it was around each corner that we expected to find out apartment. But no! The drive would torture us for longer than we’d hoped. But, we finally arrived. Whatshisname hopped out, unloaded out stuff from the boot, stuffed an envelope with keys in it into our hands, said: “Prague stay. Five minute”, jumped back into the Skoda and raced away. We looked about uncertainly. Smells from the nearby restaurant gave us a clue that at least we wouldn’t go hungry that night. A minute passed. Followed by another. Followed quickly by another minute. Another minute passed *. Finally, a little red car zoomed through the square driven by a sombre looking lady with a toddler in a child seat. Detranka had arrived. She quickly showed us up to our apartment and got us settled in. He baby daughter was enthralled with Simba, our mascot. Lion King is her favourite it seemed. It turned out that our apartment was directly above the restaurant. And it served lovely goulash and pasta to us that night. With Pilsener. And coffee. And tiramisu.

We would be dead to the world asleep in just a few minutes.

* Yes, a blatant crib from Monty Python’s ‘A Minute Passed’. I think it relevant. That’s why I used it.