I’m sitting at the Grand Chalice Hotel in Brno. Is it called the Grand Chalice? I don’t think so. So, I am sitting in the Grand Chakalaka Hotel in Brno. Is it called the Grand Chakalaka? I don’t think so. So, I am sitting in the Grand Chortle Hotel in Brno in my and my fantastic woman (Ivanečka!)’s room after a trip to Boby Centrum to “drop her off” and then a similar return trip on tram 6. After her zažítek today, we shall return to Praha by train. Peiločja and Luki will be awaiting in their respective domiciles.
Since I am wearing my Church of Hawkwind shirt, I thought I’d put on Church of Hawkwind as background during this journaling session. It’s music that has accompanied me during many work sessions in my life. Well, maybe just one other that I can think of, actually, and that was at Microsoft in 1998 during an all-night work binge. But I’m sure I’ve used it in other similar circumstances. Why wouldn’t I? Songs like Star Cannibal always conjure up a work atmosphere. In fact, that particular song should be the anthem of work worldwide. Let it be so.
Ivanečka was also at her zažítek during the whole of yesterday, and even longer than we planned, or than either of us expected. She thought (or was told?) it ended at 18.00, but when I showed up to “pick her up”, she informed me that it was but another pauza. Of course I told her that we were in Brno for her, so she should stay for the remainder and I’ll return to “pick her up” once again at 20.00. I was delighted when, an hour later, I had arrived to our hotel room (the very hotel room and indeed in the very place I am sitting as I write this now), my “telephone” lit up with her image and after asking me where I was, informed me that she had left. She wanted to be with me. If that is not pure joy, then let each of my atoms find its place among the heat death of the universe this very day!
We spent the next series of endless moments exploring the centrum of Brno in its Xmas season state. We visited three náměstí, all of which were packed with humans milling and standing about holding bramboráky that dripped oil into puddles about their feet, marking those instants of their lives evermore. Live bands created music in each náměstí, a mish-mash of Ameri-British 80s pop with a smattering of (what I assume were) Czech hits thrown in. Everyone seemed like they were digging it, so why the FUCK not?
Ivanečka was quite impressed by the centrum, actually. She commented quite a lot about the architecture and also the relative cleanliness of the buildings themselves. Relative to Praha, I assumed. I, myself, was impressed by the atmosphere and how modern the interiors of many of the buildings were, especially those that housed restaurants, kavarny and dimensional gateways to far away solar-systems. The atmosphere also made an impression on my lovely Ivanečka. Of course, we must take into consideration the effort the city itself must have made to create a certain atmosphere during the time of Xmas. They really did their best to put the X back into Xmas.
One thought that came to mind and that the two of us discussed during our stroll is that samozřejmě Praha must have the same sort of “activities” and “atmospheres” during the Xmas time, but we sort of miss um because we don’t go out as tourists in Praha. In fact, I can’t recall the last time I was at Vaclávské Náměstí or Staroměstské Náměstí during late evening or night. I did relate to her the tale of my first Silvestr in Praha during which Loyal, Suzie, Craig and I left a trail of destruction, littered glass and ruined lives on New Year’s Eve. Praha’s centrum was indeed filled with people, but I have the impression (even though it is just a distant memory now) that most of the Praha crowd were not in fact from Praha, but were, like Loyal, et. al., just enjoying the general debauchery of a distant land during the “holiday” season. Our tour of Brno last night gave me a wholly different impression that the people enjoying the evening were locals, or at least most of them.
Yesterday, I discovered an Indian restaurant close to Boby Centrum dubbed The Light of India and consumed Dal there. I also ordered Ivanečka Dal after being told by the kind Indian caretaker of said restaurant that what I actually ordered contained no lactose at all. Bitchin’ cookies. Originally, I had selected a type of palak for my love to consume when her lunchtime came ‘round at 13.00, but since palak is usually made with cream, they’d’ve had to modify it substantially. In the end, it was the marvelous Dal. Bitchin’ cookies once again. Also - I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it at the time - perhaps because I wanted to find a place I could sit with Lajdácký and program - I consumed my portion of the exquisite Dal alone instead of simply waiting for Ivanečka’s lunch and consuming the exquisite Dal alongside her. Today I shall remedy this mistake by going directly to The Light of India with her when she breaks for lunch.
My plan now is to continue listening to Church of Hawkwind (90s edition) as I pack every last crumb of our material possessions that are scattered about the hotel room. Then I shall check out of the Grand Chapped Buttocks Hotel and then take tram 12 or 4 or walk or shamble or stumble or crawl or ooze to Hlavní Nádraží to store the kufr and jidelní taška in either a storage locker or dimensional gateway, whichever I find first. As I wrote earlier, we depart this evening.
