After resting a bit, we both felt a bit under the weather but decided to press on and party. Being dressed a bit better for the weather, it made things easier. Although things did seem to be a bit of a bust at first. The irish pub, was a letdown. Overpriced and nobody there. We went back to the Beer Cellar and hung out, drank beer and talked politics... after a couple hours, left for another bar down the street where we ran in to a bunch of people from America, from Harvard no less... and a strange Scotsman who does nothing but travel. Wait, maybe he isn't so strange.... The six of us went to another bar, this one called the Marquis de Sade, where we found even more Americans from Harvard, including the bartender. We ended up closing the bar, hanging out with a dutchman and a serviceman on leave. Drinking beer after beer, and even a shot of Absinthe.

I found out that Absinthe isn't what it used to be. In fact, there is no wormwood oil in it anymore, so the hallucinogenic properties that made it famous, don't exist anymore. Nonetheless, it is still a drink like no other with a feeling afterwords thats indescribable, like a comfortable fire within. We wandered to another bar after the Marquis de Sade closed, and after closing that one - it was back to the room. Brent was going to try to catch a 7 AM train which meant that he would have to wake up in two hours.

It didn't happen. At 5:30 his alarm clock rang. And rang. And he shut it off. Happened again around 6. I woke up about 7, sick as a dog with a nasty cold. He was still sleeping. He woke up too, now having to wait four more hours for the next train. He was hung over, I had a cold, we went to the Supermarket once more for food and the dollar breakfast. We got to the station and bought the tickets, but nobody explained to Brent that he needed to go to the Holesovice station, and that the trains to Vienna don't leave from the main station.

He found out 15 minutes before he missed the second train. It's not a surprise trying to navigate the Czech railways. It is still very much a socialist affair where everything is taken too literally. Information windows dont sell tickets and sale windows dont give information. So you can buy a ticket at a station where a train doesn't show up and not realize it because the salesman won't tell you that the train doesn't stop there. Let's just politely say that you shouldn't expect a helpful railway official.

After finding one helpful train employee get him a taxi, the taxi driver wanted to charge him 100 Euros for the 2 mile trip. He balked, got kicked out of the taxi and jumped in the Metro, where his ticket was stolen. Before I know it, he's back again at the main train station, buying a new ticket and hanging with me at the net café. Now he has to wait another four hours and won't get into Vienna until the evening. We separate after a couple hours for probably the last time. I hop on the EC176 "Porta Bohemica" to Berlin. As the ks fly by, I run into another Harvard Law student, Europe seems to be crawling with them. I reflect on my trip... and this unexpected voyage to Prague has definitely been the best part of the trip so far.