For some time I have wanted to visit Prague, Czech Republic, and to catch up with my brother as he travels around Europe. July 1997 -- on one week's notice -- I was able to do both in a single trip. The only trip mishap was leaving my daily notebook in the seat-pouch on the Prague-Frankfurt return flight. So this narrative is from memory.

Stuttgart, Germany

Thursday, July 3 in a "jet-lag daze" my brother Jay picked me up at the Stuttgart airport in his "Opel Senator." We drove on an overcast day to his apartment about 30 km north in the small town of Salzbach. Jay's neighbor and fellow magician Michael stopped by. We began sampling the local beers and listening to new age and ambient CDs.

Friday we had lunch at McDonald's -- veggie burger and spring water -- then toured Schwabisch Hall, a cobblestoned 15^th century city on a river between steep banked hills. That evening we relaxed at Heilbad-Hoheneck Spa in Ludwigsburg. The spa is accessed via an inclined elevator ride up a hill. Inside are three "shallow swimming pools" of varying temperatures with "stations" that have water jets at varying positions. Every two minutes a bell rings, signaling time to move to the next station. That evening we opened a 1990 red Chinon with the best oak flavoring I have experienced.

Saturday we visited the Staatsgalerie Stuttgart museum and the beautiful city center. The museum contained a Gauguin and other works by famous artists. Upon return we were invited for dinner at Michael and his wife's apartment. There we sampled homemade blackberry schnapps and some port wine that is aged by going around the world in a ship. (Its name was in my notes.)

Saturday evening we went to the local "disco." The music was predominately 70's rock: "Radar Love" and so on. We then drove to Backnang to see what the techno club was like. But they wouldn't let me in due to my open-toed Nike sandals. It was already near midnight and a 30 minute round trip back to the apartment, so we just returned to the disco. In Europe you don't "ask someone to dance," you just go on the floor. Jay went first, and then Simple Minds "Don't You Forget About Me" brought me out. It was a bit emotional since the last time we were on a dance floor together was "when it all started." In 1976 at "Yori's Disco 2000" in Reno Jay began performing choreographed magic on the dance floor, which led to his career as a magician.

Autobahn to Dresden

Sunday we drove to Dresden so Jay could attend the FISM magic convention. Jay drove up to 200 km/hour (124 mph), while I kept it below 170 km (105 mph) since I was not used to the car and surroundings, and did not possess an international driver's license. Unlike in the U.S. where you get stuck behind someone in the "fast lane," in Germany drivers almost exclusively will pull right immediately for faster traffic. Likewise they do not pass on the right, so if you see headlights flashing in your rearview from a Mercedes closing at 150 mph, you can move to the right without losing focus to check for traffic in the lane. Construction of modern freeways linking the former East and West Germany is well underway.

Dresden is south of Berlin, and still retains scars from WW II bombing which killed 50,000 people. On an overcast afternoon it felt like driving into "Transylvania." The mansions, streets, parks, and such appear to have been neglected for years.

Jay had reservations for us at the Ibis hotel, which is comparable to a U.S. hotel. We dined with some of Jay's friends at the convention in the hotel's restaurant. He then went out with them while I walked around the city, including a visit to the train station to check the schedule to Prague.

I returned to the empty hotel room about 11pm. Since I had the only key I tried not to sleep for concern that I would not hear him knock. Laying in the dark I remembered that I had dreamed several years ago that Jay and I were in Russia together, and I had written it in my "dream notebook." From the notebook:

"October 11, 1987: At a University in Russia with Jay visiting the lecture hall which has windows facing out to a field where people were playing soccer (some good-looking girls). Nice sunny day. I liked the place!"

Now ten years later we are together in Eastern Europe.

Monday morning we ate at the hotel's buffet breakfast. I decided to travel to Prague that afternoon, so we said goodbye in front of the FISM convention center. He went off to be a magician, and I to explore and photograph. But back at the hotel packing for the train, I realized, "Oh s***, my camera bag is still in the trunk of his car!" I decided to try to find him at the convention to get the car keys.

Fortunately they let me in without a ticket, and I eventually caught up to him. I met a few of his associates, and saw an interesting "trick" on a chessboard where the presenter predicts where the knight will be in a given number of moves. I also met "Guido," a German who visited us the following month when he vacationed in California with his girlfriend "Konstanze."

After the brief visit, I returned to the hotel parking lot, retrieved my camera bag from Jay's trunk, and caught the next train to Prague.

Prague, Czech Republic

On the train I sat across from a guy whom I had no idea where he was from. After some time I asked if he could speak English. "Amir" was a physician from Vancouver. Incredibly we had both attended American River College in Sacramento in 1980, and had a common math teacher, "Mr. Givant," who used to call guys "toots" and kick people out of class.

In past travels to Europe and Japan, I had bought guidebooks and language cassettes well in advance to prepare. Here on the train to Prague I did not know a single word of Czech, had no guidebook, had never seen a map of the city, and no idea where I would spend the night. Borrowing Amir's "Lonely Planet" guidebook I read that we would not be arriving at the main train station; We would need to catch a subway there. And Gypsy pickpockets were a problem at the main station.

The trip was a little more than two hours, with the first hour traversing a river between steep hills and cliffs.

Upon arrival at the station Amir and I were approached by people offering to drive us to see rooms in private residences. We decided to do that. I took the room at the first stop for $35/night. It was a large master bedroom with a private bathroom, within an apartment arranged to provide a private entrance hall, and only two blocks from the main street.. (The Marilyn Monroe poster reminded me of the movie "Shawshank Redemption," so I checked behind it for a secret passage.) It required three keys to enter: One to get in the big doors from the main street; one to get into the residence; and the third to enter my room. I did not see Amir again.

From Amir's guidebook I had copied the address of an "Internet Cafe," which was only two blocks from my apartment. I stopped there, had some beers, and set up an email account on an incredibly slow web browser. It was a normal PC running Windows 95 and Internet Explorer -- just darn slow -- over a minute to move between screens. I then sent email to Aurelia and some co-workers, and checked email each morning thereafter.

I spent that evening and the next day wandering around the old city. Restaurants were cheap. For $4 I had an excellent 14-inch pizza and glass of wine. For $3 I stuffed myself at the "Godivna Vegetarian Club" run by the Hare Kristnas. And for $6 I had excellent vegetarian food at "Lotos Restaurant."

I was surprised that the town was packed with tourists -- like Disneyland along the main old-town stroll.

Each entrance to the Palace on the hill across the river was guarded by a pair of "Buckingham Palace" guards that remain frozen. During the day people would wave and pose for photos next to them, and they didn't move. When I returned late at night to photograph, it was eerie walking past them with no one else around. The whites of their eyes were barely visible. Otherwise they looked like statues.

After completing the night photography about 1:30am I walked past a cheap snack bar crowded with locals. I ordered a vegetarian pizza for less than $1.50, and was amazed again to get a 14-inch pizza. There were dozens of young people hanging out at the closed subway entrance across the street, so I went over and sat on the curb -- with my camera and massive 35-200 zoom lens around my neck. After a few minutes a girl walked up saying, "Please my friends and I need to eat and we have no money." I tore off half the pizza, and she disappeared into the crowd.

On one hand the streets are packed with new luxury cars and cell phones. But beyond the glamour of the main tourist strip many of the people -- especially the young ones -- are poor. From news articles there is growing discontent with the failure of democracy since 1989 to provide a better life.

I had been warned of Gypsy criminals, but my only encounter with them was when two approached to sell heroin. They quickly disappeared when I said "No." I felt safer here than in U.S. cities. And the statistics support that.

Prague is an old city with most buildings about seven stories. (Either that is as high as they knew how to construct them, or that is as far as people were willing to walk without an elevator.) So a 600-foot structure called the "TV Tower Prague" on top of a hill stands out. It only cost 25 cents for the elevator ride to the 300-foot observation platform. There were only three other people in the platform, and a big souvenir counter that was closed. This was odd since, for example, the Toronto Tower typically requires a one hour wait to get on the elevator.

I also walked to a massive "Revolution Memorial" building on a hill near above war museum, but it was closed.

Long Walk in a Short Country

Having seen enough of the city center, I had an idea to explore the suburbs by riding to the end of subway line "A" (Skalka) then walking about 3 miles to the end of line "C" (Haje). Fortunately a magazine vendor at the Skalka stop was selling a city map.

Coming from underground it was difficult to get oriented, so I just started walking until I found a street-sign. From the map I could see I needed to cross a freeway and train-tracks. I found a dirt path under the freeway, then a path along the train tracks. But on the map where I had hoped to cross to a main street, there was a massive Midas Tire factory! So I was stuck stumbling down the train-tracks through a switching yard, being careful to avoid anything that might suddenly move and smash my foot. I half expected to be greeted by police.

Finally at the end of the tire factory I was able to walk down a trail through a parking lot to the main street. The remainder of the walk was along main streets. I was curious about a lake I saw on the map, so I detoured in that direction. The road to the lake was lined with modern apartments and nice cars. The small lake was surrounded by pine trees and had a fresh-cut grass beach, volleyball, rental row boats, and a snack bar. At the snack bar I pointed to a beer and bag of peanuts, and a lady gave them to me. I think the guy in the snack bar said something about tourists, and the lady "shushed" him. The music then changed from English (Simon and Garfunkel's "Sound of Silence" at the time) to Czech folk music. Walking away I stumbled on a green tennis ball, and a German Shepard ran up and retrieved it. I sat on the grass, soaked up the sun and enjoyed my snacks. It was a very nice place, and must have been similar 10 years ago under communism. I then walked back up to the subway stop and rode into town with the locals.

Return Home

I was concerned about missing my 6:50am flight, and decided the best thing to do was to stay up all night. I stayed in bed until noon Thursday, waited until 11:30pm to have dinner, then stayed until 3am closing at "Astra disco." From there I wandered down into the empty subway station to make sure I knew where to go, then returned to the apartment for an hour to get my stuff. 4:30am I left the apartment, and twilight was already starting. I caught the first subway at 5am to the end of the line, then took Bus 119 to the airport, arriving at 6am on a sunny morning. The video to my current favorite song Depeche Mode "It's No Good" was playing in the waiting area. Aside from leaving my travel notebook in the seat pocket, the one hour flight to Frankfurt was uneventful.

In Frankfurt I was stuck for more than two hours in the crowded, smoke-filled terminal. Because of customs and immigration it was impossible to get outside, or anywhere away from the smoke. And I was already feeling the consequences of my "dance all night" plan.

I went to the exchange window to convert my Czech Koruns into dollars. They had a long list of countries they exchanged, such as Chile and countries in Africa. The lady said, "What are these bills?" I said, "These are your neighbor." "Oh, Czech. We don't change these." Fortunately another conversion bank did.

On the flight to San Francisco I sat next to two German teenagers who spoke good English. When I said I was from Sacramento, I was surprised when they asked, "What do you think of the Sacramento Kings?" and knew they were a losing team. They said they follow NBA. Amazing.

The 10-hour return flight went "nearly over the north pole," providing an incredible view of glaciers. There were two lunches served -- one on German time and the next on San Francisco time eight hours later. Aside from a brief nap on the plane, I had been awake for more than 32 hours while driving back to Sacramento.

Dangers of Travel

The most dangerous part of the trip was on the escalator at the San Francisco airport. Two girls in front of me were going up with luggage on carts, when a suitcase slipped off of the first one, causing her cart to slip sideways, then jam at the top. The second cart then jammed sideways into the first one. I abandoned my luggage and jumped up over the ledge to avoid getting pinned by the cart that was coming behind me -- escalators don't stop for anything. A small child could have literally been killed in this pileup.