So, as it turns out, I’m hopelessly in love with George Orwell.
Today I slept in a little late, since I woke myself at 3 am to watch the debates and text commentary with a friend who is also interested in politics. Probably will do the same tonight. Porque es muy importante, la política. Hablo español, una mas cerveza por favor! 😉Little debate humor there…when all else fails, throw in some Spanish to show you’re one of the people.
I talked to David for a bit, got up, and decided today should be the day to hit the more touristy spots, as they may be more crowded come the weekend, à la Amsterdam. Visited the old town, the Charles Bridge, etc. I did that thing I do, where I think I know where I’m going, and at some point I realize I don’t, but I stubbornly keep walking aimlessly, overestimating my sense of direction. (Mind you, my sense of direction is not terrible…it’s just not GPS. Or even a paper map.) Eventually I did that other thing I do, which is to finally concede defeat, sit somewhere with a drink, and regain my bearings.
Here are more photos of things that tickled my eyeballs on either side of the bridge…
One of my favorite points of interest in Venice is the clock tower at St Mark’s Square. Churches and castles and museums have their beautiful sculptures and architectural embellishments and majestic stained glass and gold leaf. But a clock tower like the one at St Mark’s is a grand achievement of art AND mechanics AND architecture AND mathematics AND astronomy. So seeing the astronomical clock in Prague was a key destination today, so much so that I actually claimed a table at a tourist restaurant directly opposite the clock and ordered a cheese plate and two Aperol spritzers, just to better enjoy waiting for the next turn of the hour to arrive. The crowd swelled just before 3:00, and the restaurant itself was inundated with tourists who tried to position themselves between the tables, only to be firmly shooed away by the staff. My waiter and I shared a wry, knowing smile in a way that signaled how patient one must be with the rabble.
I’m adding a video of the clock for your enjoyment.
Wove my way back to my tram stop, taking more photos along the way. The heat and the Aperol spritzers made me sleepy, so I wrote a few postcards then took a nap before heading up the street for a dinner of black truffle risotto, pinot gris, and Orwell in the garden patio of a nearby restaurant. The restaurant was especially considerate and had misters strung along the edge of the patio that would periodically spritz cool droplets in the direction of the diners. After finishing everything ( including the Orwell), I walked back down the hill and settled in for the evening.