Rocking In The Free World

The whirlwind that is Prague has engulfed me with a vengeance. The move from Istanbul was sad in its strange way, and mainly I will miss my cats (some of whom I didn’t even get to say goodbye to) and my seascape artwork on the apartment walls. Little things here and there, like cheap figs and jewellery, cigkofte. But I was not all that sad to go, and Istanbul had to stick it to me one last time as I realised that the wonderful Jackass shoes I so proudly bought before our departure are the wrong size! The Turkish idiot of a salesperson gave me the fucking wrong shoes! Oh the irritation! Oh the anger! Fuck Turkey.Hah! There, I said it, and I’ll say it again: Fuck Turkey! I can finally speak my mind again and I will never take that gift for granted ever again.

When we arrived in Prague, it was to the bleakest of gloomy weather. Freezing cold, grey, raining and icy winds whipping through every corner of the summer wardrobe I so carefully planned and paid 300 euros for in excess baggage. Hm. Our first hostel was most probably one of the creepiest places on the face of God’s green earth. And to add insult to injury, the elevator was broken on the first day we got there so poor Steve had to lug the huge suitcases up five flipping storeys!

My first impressions of Prague were not all that impressive. I thought it would be far more gothic, I thought there would be a much more palpable sense of magic and enchantment. The one thing I appreciated wholeheartedly was the wonderful police presence on the streets at night. I love the police. They make me feel safe. And the police are no joke here, they patrol on foot all over the city at night and I have taken to greeting them and giving them big smiles.

The first few days here were horrible. Terrible weather, I was having trouble with my shoes and the walking all over the place wasn’t helping much. We arrived the day before a huge 4 day weekend holiday, so of course couldn’t even begin looking for a place until almost a week after we got here. Then, we had to change hotels because our room was overbooked. Fuck! What started as a fricking horrible beginning of our life here in Prague took a very sudden turn for the glorious with the simple act of moving hotels. This leads me to believe that the train station and Hostal Vesta are seriously haunted places and have a vortex of downright nasty energy that physically and psychically hurts those around it. As soon as we moved away from that evil place: Steve got a promotion in his job, we found the most beautiful flat ever that happens to be in a charming and tourist-free part of town, AND I have a piece of my art on exhibition in one of the coolest bars in town! Oh YEAH.

Just like that things started working out for us. I am hoping that the wave of good energy will continue and bring me to a great job doing something interesting and useful. And I am so ecstatic that a piece of my artwork is hanging on a wall in Prague! That can only mean good things to come. I’ve also been taking some amazing photos of Prague’s spirits and I’m so excited to begin getting prints made and figuring out what I’ll do with them.

Moving sucks, hard core. But settling in feels great and bit by bit we are working things out and things are falling into place.

I think I’m gonna like it here.

Thoughts?

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