the seagulls here are smarter then we think. at night they swoop around this immensely lit building and resemble that of giant bats. i kid you not...maybe it is mating season but they are so many in numbers that they resemble a heavy array of bugs surrounding a Michigan porch light in the heart of summer or maybe the opposite like giant snow flakes gently swaying back and forth to the soft earth. on the Vltava river there are a few places where metal barriers divert larger objects from going into places where they shouldn't be like a kitchen sink drainage trap. these barriers come out of the water and make a very dramatic point about ten foot above. its funny walking from a specific direction along the river because at night there are evenly spaced perfectly rowed seagulls perched overlooking the crowds. and sure enough bellow them on the other side are seagulls waiting for their chance to claim the title of being highest up.
this sort of gives me a little political insight about how Prague may work or humanity in general. but what it may means i have no idea.


yesterday Nichole (my couchsurfing host) and i went to find more of the city. first we started with Indian food (yeah i know) then couldn't really decide where to go afterwards. we ended up paying a visit to the liberation memorial given that it was based high up on some giant hill in the heart of the city. it took some time to find our way but eventually we assumed to be on the right track when halfway up this densely fitted hill full of vegetation and strange orange fruit that looked like cherry tomato's but smelled like pears and we see a little red paper sign pointing "Jugglers Convention". when finally to the top we had found the giant statue with a man and his horse but no jugglers. half disappointed half elated by the view we refrained from added to the terribly attractive graffiti some in English some in Czech. all that i remember is: well maybe its not worth to reiderate. Nichole mentions that she wishes the graffiti were more political in the city. though the politics of Prague have seemed to be a little more dense then we could grasp. though maybe it is as simple as the seagulls.
after soaking the orange burgundy rooftops in with their mismatched beige stucco walls lining the horizon like a ancient set of lego's probably circa 1246 we decided to descend the hill to go meet up with my traveling companion Brad. well all the couchsurfers who i emailed think that his name is Webley. i haven't told him yet. there use to be a bat in the entryway of the house we shared. his name was also Webley.
on the way down we sort of went in an opposite direction and found our selves overlooking a thirty foot drop where the train tracks were laid down. we decided given that there was a trail leading us here that there had to be a way down. through thick vines and hesitant glances towards three leaved plants we made our precarious way down a crumbling ledge to a small landslide covered in old discarded electrical lines. at one point i felt like harrison ford on some epic adventure in search of the great and holy grail with camels tanks and vintage fitting caps. i even braced my feet stylistically against this old crumbling wall and took a moment to breathe like i new what i was doing. nichole felt a little less apprehensive and our meandering continued. across the tracks we realized there was another wall yet to be a bit more dramatic then the first. maybe fourty feet. but still thats pretty high right? so we decided to walk along the tracks until something had opened up and hope "Webley" would come by on the next train and be like "what the heck? there supposed to be meeting me.."
sooner then later we made it to this abandoned rail station that had the foreboding stink of trash, feces and fireworks..... hey even one of the doors on the third level had nudie pictures pasted to the walls. we suspected that it may be somebody else territory so we took cameras out made a few snap shots and left. upon investigating the back of the building we found a beautifully deteriorating stairwell directing us back into the culture and people and places that we read about in our guide books. we felt fully invigorated that seeing this side of Prague having brought us a whole new perspective on the city. especially while climbing down the stairs and seeing a thickly pasted brown load of steamy god only knows what festering all sorts of insects to be a three minute walk to the doorsteps of one of the most beautiful cathedrals that i've come across thus far on my journey. even when entering from the main steps air conditioning was billowing out like gentle greeting saying "its all the same".
i almost forgot that we picked up a small ceramic cup that we found in the old train station rubbish with the name of a four year old on the bottom and obviously his age. this was to be webley's welcoming present. on the walk to the station he phoned that he was almost there and i dropped the cup. you can find symbolism in everything. but not sure what this may mean. when talking to brad later he said he was really stressed out from traveling so much when he talked to me. i felt it had something to do with the feeling we had when exploring the old station. maybe it was a little of both?
that night after Webly's nap we went walking with nichole to visit some other couch surfing people. soon we broke our own way and found some old time swinging jazz giants doing there thing to a couple liquored up locals. the singer sang through this bull horn sort of brass old grammaphone concoction and used the cut off top of a 2 liter bottle to muffle his amazing trumpet playing. he even rolled his eyes when as wide as can be when he played..... i swear he was Louis Armstrong's long lost nephew. two hours later we found ourselves across the river winding through tiny cobblestone allies and deteriorating stonework to topple the never ending steps reaching the entryway to the Pražský hrad (prague castle) and watched the city sulk in its glittering array of orange white and pink fluorescence. webley mentioned that he couldn't begin to fathom how a city is built by the hands of such people. i said maybe it was never built.