What a ride!

Me with bike.

My dad has traveled across America by bike. My brother Peter is planning to follow his footsteps (er, wheel tracks) next year. Both of them are big advocates of traveling by two wheels. They tell me, "Yvonne, there's no better way to see a place than from the bike."

That philosophy was the one of the inspirations for signing up for a three-hour bike tour of Prague. How great would it be see to see the sights, learn the history, and get some exercise for the first time in over a month?

As soon as I got on the bike, I learned immediately that Prague is not a bike-friendly city. Considering that most of the roads are cobblestone, it makes for a bumpy ride. Between looking at the sights, you have to dodge everything from cars to people to trams to small animals. Let's just say, it's an adrenaline rush.

Our tour guide, a South American who grew up in Los Angeles, was friendly enough, but her commentary didn't enlighten me as much as I hoped. I learned the place where her friend got married, where she liked to go dancing and where to get a cheap beer (and some marijuana, if I wanted some).

"Here is the place where Mozart premiered Don Giovanni. Isn't a big deal over here in Prague because this is the only city where that opera was successful. Doesn't the building look cool?" It WAS cool, but still, kind of weird that she was getting paid to tell me so.

When the tour was over, I started walking and talking with Darren and Claire, a couple from Edinburgh, Scotland, who did the bike tour with me. They were going to a restaurant that our guide had recommended as having really cheap, really good traditional Czech food.

"May we chum you along?" Darren asked. It took me a few seconds to figure out what he meant, but it sounded good to me.

"Sure!" I said.

The guide was right about the restaurant. It seemed like the real thing. I was amused looking at the list of sides they offered: boiled potatoes, fried potatoes, potato croquettes, mashed potato. I ordered the house specialty which was pork in a sweet cranberry sauce that came with these fried potato balls on a side plate. Strange looking and strange in the mouth, but pretty good, nonetheless.

Darren and Claire were a sweet couple. She worked in marketing for human rights. He quit his job working in finance and now taught people how to ride bikes. They told me about their lives, their jobs, their city, and I told them a little about mine. At the end we shook hands and traded email addresses. I doubt I will ever see them again in my life, but for that evening, I really enjoyed their company.

That's the strange thing about this traveling thing. People just kind of breeze in and out of your life. And some of them I am fine having them come and go, content in the short time we had together, and there are some--the true gems--that are hard to part with.

I came back to the hostel and was crushed to learn that it was Adam's last night in Prague. I thought we had some more time. So Adam and I sat at the hostel bar with Carlos, a fascinating and funny guy from Panama, and some others, and we drank and talked. The whole time I was thinking that I really didn't want to say good-bye to him. We talked about meeting up again, maybe in Australia, maybe in New York, maybe in France. When we hugged good-bye, it seemed unlikely.

I felt the same way with the Germans, and I remember Kristina saying to me, "Well, it is sad to say good-bye, but isn't it a nice feeling to know that there are so many great people out there in the world?"

I guess it is a nice feeling, but sometimes I think it would be better if I could scoop up all the good ones and bring them home with me.

Perspective from my bike: Charles Bridge.



Potato balls, anyone?



Dinner with Claire and Darren.



Carlos, me, and Adam, at the hostel bar.