Flying to Prague

The day started out great when I got onto my Delta plane to Atlanta and discovered that it was wi-fi enabled, allowing me to spend the entire five-hour flight checking email and Facebook with teenage abandon. Combine that with the free satellite television on the screen in front of me, and I was in entertainment heaven, engrossed in my own little world in the same way as when they used to give away Colorform toys on TWA. Delta is my new favorite airline!

After a brief layover in Hotlanta (you could feel the heat on the jet way), I boarded my Delta flight to Prague, expecting more of the same. Which it wasn’t. No wi-fi. No in-seat entertainment system. No working audio on the movies overhead. Nothing. At all. Delta is the worst airline ever! Since I was tired from all my earlier technological fun and games, I figured I would sleep the entire night, which of course, didn’t happen. Ten hours later, I arrived in Prague, exhausted but ready to explore.

Turns out I didn’t need to worry about the Czech cabbies – the airport only allows the reputable companies into its cue, so I grabbed a taxi and headed to Josefov, the former Jewish ghetto in Stare Mesto, the city’s old town. In the cab, I was pleased to see that there was a 2000 Czech Crown penalty (approximately 400 US dollars) for “Foulness Car,” which my cabbie strategically avoided by hanging two “Wunderbaum” trees from his rearview mirror.

After arriving at Hotel Josef, I checked out my room (see Best of Traveling Solo #6 below) and laid down for a brief, ten-hour nap, waking up at 7:00 p.m. I took a shower, left the hotel and walked the cobblestone streets of Josefov, which is filled with chic restaurants, shops and cafes in the same vein of NYC’s Soho. Dinner consisted of veal steak and two Budvars, the far-more delicious namesake of St. Louis’ Budweiser, and I finally understood why Budvar sued Anheiser-Busch over its name (I would, too, if my hometown’s swill tried to imply that it is Budvar’s equivalent). As I quickly got schnockered, fireworks exploded overhead (literally, not figuratively), an apparent tribute some “rich person’s birthday” according to my waitress. I prefer to think it was Prague’s way of saying, “Welcome Maria. We are happy to have your awesomeness in our little town.”

Best of Traveling Solo #6: No Sharing of Hotel Toiletries
Please, we all do it. You enter your new hotel room, quickly check out the sleeping arrangements and then book to the bathroom to check out the quality of the toiletries kindly left for you by the hotel staff.

If it’s the hotel’s generic crap, there’s no issue. But when it’s the high-class products, all bets are off. Staying with roommates complicates things and requires Secretary of State-level negotiation skills to extricate yourself from the situation with the toiletries – and your friendships – intact. But when you’re by yourself? You can grab the Aveda Rosemary Mint shampoo (and conditioner and lotion and body wash) with Gollum-like obsession and declare that, “they’re mine, all mine.”