Mel and Martin were in town so we did the tourist stuff on Saturday. We started the day at the castle. It was to be my second visit and this time it was to be done properly, paid entry to all the buildings. The generous Geordie bought our tickets. He loves paying for stuff, whether it be castle tickets, pints, food or donations to the homeless, he can’t get rid of his money fast enough. The castle is great, I’ve told you that before, but the thing that really impressed me was that warmth of the buildings. They are huge, but their primitive heating system made them dead cosy. I don’t know how the heating system functioned. It just appeared to be big towers of bricks that were somehow hot and that in itself provided heat for the entire building. There was no fire or water pipes as far as I could see, just big warm bricks. Amazing.
The castle tour took about three hours. After that we crossed Charles bridge and made our way to Old town square to check out the Christmas tree and the market. There was supposed to be a light turning on ceremony but that was cancelled due to terrorist threats. Boring! The weather was bitter, freezing cold and rubbish snow, so after a quick look round we headed back to their hotel to drop the camera off and have a few beers.
Early evening turned to night and so it was time to head out for the boxing. We went to the Irish bar that I watch the footy at. We drank a lot of beer, talked about stuff I don’t remember and witnessed a rubbish fight that ended in the outcome we had hoped for, a good night all round.
I got up well bad early on Sunday. I went to Mel and Martins hotel for breakfast. It has been way too long since I’ve had a fry up so sacrificing a bit of sleep was not a problem. I had bacon, eggs, sausage and beans, a welcome break from the poison on toast that I have become accustomed to. Coffee and juice too. Amazeballs. No one even questioned my attendance. I may go there for brekkie every day from now on.
After food we did more tourist stuff. We opted for the national gallery as it was indoors and just around the corner from the hotel. Martin paid again. I wish he’d move out here, I’d be rich. The first exhibition we saw was by a dude called Alfons Mucha, entitled The Slav Epic. It was alright. The paintings were really big but some of them had people hovering, and one painting that depicted the aftermath of a battle had the fallen soldiers, and a horse, all looking like they had died peacefully in their sleep rather than a blood bath that a sword fight to the death would’ve looked like.
Next up was three more floors of paintings, models, videos and sculptures, art at its best and worst. There were paintings by Picaso, Da Vinci, Mozart, the lot. An impressive display if I ever saw one. One of the ladies whose job it is to shout at you if you do anything wrong near a painting, had a squeaky shoe. Was it her tormentor or companion I thought? Did the squeak, squeak, squeak as she patrolled the pictures slowly drive her insane, or did it offer her comfort in her solitude? Did she rap with her thoughts to the beat of the squeak, or was each noisy footstep a constant reminder of the loneliness of her existence? I will never know. I didn’t ask her, I just looked at pictures with my arms behind my back, like some kind of expert.
We found a cool place to eat once we’d finished the gallery, an Italian place that does pretty much all food. I had lasagne, the second time of the day that I had a meal I haven’t had in a good while. It would have been way much better if I hadn’t drenched my chips in olive oil after mistaking it for vinegar. Never mind, it was tasty and Martin footed the bill again.
Post food we hit the hotel bar for a couple before heading to the Irish bar for the Liverpool game. A one nil win against the jacks, plenty of ale and a Sunday roast was the perfect way to finish off the weekend. Due to wanting to repay Martins kindness, I paid for all of our drinks and food in the Irish bar. Unfortunately, once we had finished our nightcap back at the hotel bar, Martin, against my wishes, refunded me. I have had an excellent weekend. It went way too fast and I wish instead of talking politics for the last bit of the evening, I could have told Mel and Martin how grateful I am for their company for the last three days. I love you both, have a safe journey home guys.
I’ve got a hectic week coming up; one that fingers crossed will see my detention centre story make it to print. As always, I’ll keep you posted. Xx