Columnist learns to adapt to, appreciate unexpected travel mishaps
During my spring break trip to Prague, I discovered one of my favorite aspects of traveling: being forced to roll with the punches.
Of course, the traditionally attractive benefits of traveling — the food, the sights, the people — are also great. But my favorite part has been throwing away the guidebook and taking on the challenges of new cities.
Taking the train to Prague was the first and long lesson in rolling with the punches. At our connection in Offenburg, Germany, my friends and I panicked when we didn’t see Prague listed on any platform. After running back and forth between platforms several times, we had to trust some English-speaking strangers when they said the Berlin train contained several carriages bound for Prague.
When we boarded, we accidentally sat in the wrong section. The conductors forced us to move so many times that it felt like we were on “Punk’d.” Then, as we pulled into Prague, we miscounted the number of stops the train had made and sat there patiently waiting for the next station until the conductor informed us that we had reached our final destination.
It may have been my imagination or his heavy accent, but I think he actually told us to “scram.”
Rolling with the punches can actually be the best way to get to know a new city. Some of the best food I had in Prague, or any city, came from street carts. Prague has particularly good street fare, and you can buy homemade kielbasa, hot chocolate or a popular spiral pastry called trdelnik on just about any corner.
Wandering also introduces you to the little details you won’t find in a tourist guide. I have a theory that every city has one or two completely random things. In Amsterdam, it’s Argentinian steakhouses. In Prague, it’s chihuahuas and Thai massage parlors.
Taking a walk is also the best way to see the sights. Prague surprised me with its beauty. Huge pedestrian bridges span the Vltava River, providing a view of the churches, theaters and old hotels that dot the city. My architectural vocabulary is too limited for me to identify the landmark buildings as anything other than “pretty” and “old,” but even I can tell that the city must be an architectural hot spot.
In addition to its beauty, Prague has a distinctly quirky edge. The city layout is the closest thing to an actual labyrinth I can think of — none of the streets meet at right angles. The city’s museums also demonstrate an offbeat flair. In addition to the sensible museums, there is the Museum of Communism and the Museum of Medieval Torture Instruments.
The same quirky spirit carries over to Prague’s exuberant street performers. Almost every major tourist city boasts interesting street performers, but Prague’s performers go above and beyond. They don’t just coat themselves in metallic body paint; they paint themselves silver and then walk around with their arms lined by parrots and macaws.
Once, in the central Old Town Square, I watched Iroquois men dance hip-hop infused versions of tribal dances wearing colorful, plastic costumes that looked like Mardi Gras’ take on Native American ceremonial dress
On.e night we made reservations at a popular restaurant and walked across town only to discover that the restaurant was closed. We took refuge in a nearby Vietnamese restaurant and had some of the best noodles I’ve ever tasted, confirming my belief that South Asian food is one of the few things anyone can count on in this life.
As I continue my spring break travels to Amsterdam and Paris, I’m looking forward to losing the schedule and rolling with the punches. Although, come to think of it, maybe looking up our train platform beforehand would be helpful.
Maggie Cregan is a sophomore history and magazine journalism major. From Cleveland to Syracuse to Strasbourg, she enjoys rocking out and getting hopelessly lost. If you want to talk to her about this column, or are Keith Richards, reach her at mmcregan@syr.edu and follow her on Twitter at @MaggieCregan_SU.
Published on February 24, 2014 at 10:04 pm
Contact Maggie: mmcregan@syr.edu