Filmsets and tracks

I know we’ve lost the blogs, but I’m feeling the need to share my last few days with you guys. This time, I got piccies!

First off, the week was boring as f**k, too much travelling, house hunting and lecture attendance. So, along came Saturday when I woke with one idea in my mind, take the bike to town, ride street. After finishing my Cini Minis (that’ll be Cinnamon Grahams to you English speaking masses) I dragged my sleepy arse down into the lobby and spent the next 10 minutes deciding how to get to town using the giant wall map. The pChromo isn’t too keen on riding any distance, so I decided to ride to Skalka, a metro (underground) station, and go into town on that. The ride from Skalka to Muzeum takes about 20 minutes, and is just enough time to sort out the chain tugs again. Having gotten off the metro I climbed out of the darkness and into a beautifully blue morning, you don’t appreciate the sky until you’re climbing out of the underground station. I pointed the bike down the hill and headed for Charles Bridge, one of the major landmarks in Prague. To get there I had to ride down through two of the major shopping streets and into the Old Town. Wenceslas Square was, as usual, full of tourists, and another exhibition from Skoda. I rode down into the old town through the gate tower and into what is supposed to be a pedestrianised area, Old town square was full of a hell of a lot of noisy people wearing orange. Not just orange Tee-shirts, but orange jumpsuits, orange overalls, orange hats, orange faces, orange EVERYTHING. It only took a few seconds to work out what was going on as high above I heard an airhorn in the clock tower as a Dutch flag was swathed around the balcony a few hundred feet up. Czech Republic Vs the Netherlands. Great, now I had to dodge tourists and beered up Dutchmen. I began riding over Charles Bridge which mostly involved track standing and swearing in 5 different languages. Well, I was riding until the bridge police threatened to arrest me if I didn’t stop, For god’s sake guys, nick the pickpockets, not the guy trying to use the bridge for its original purpose. Having walked about a hundred yards, I got back on and sprinted the rest, shedding tourists left and right. I decided that it was possibly not the best plan to ride through the touristy area while the bridge police had their blood up I headed for a bar. While pint is only 50p, it’s never too early. A half litre of Pilsner Urquel (better than Stella, sorry Peaty) was drained from a glass and I headed up the hill to the castle. If you’ve been or you know someone who’s been to Prague, you’ll know it’s a big ass hill. Having ridden up that I felt deserving of another pint, and treated myself to one. You can never have enough beer.
I rode round to the back entrance of the castle and got off the bike. They don’t have policemen in the castle, they have soldiers, the sort that carries a gun with a bayonet. One doesn’t mess with that sort. I progressed through to the front entrance. The front tries to be a bit like Buck House, including having two soldiers who’s sole job is not to blink, move, or take offence to the masses of tourists whose sole job is to try to get the soldiers to blink, move or take offence. Simply put, they’re a photo opportunity. At some point I’ll get I picture with one. Maybe he’ll smile. I rode from there to the steps that go from the castle to the lesser quarter.
Half a mile of steep stairs. They were what I’d come for so I rode them. Slowly at first, but by halfway down my brake fingers were so pumped that I just had to let off the brakes. Steps it doth seem are much easier when you hit them mega fast, so long as you can keep your feet on the pedals of course. It was getting on in the day by now so I headed for Rocky O’Reilly’s, Prague’s best Irish pub where they do God’s Own Steak Sandwich. If the big man came down, he’d eat a steak the sandwich there, unless he’s a veggie of course, Lunch was marked with the third pint of the day. Little and often guys. I was feeling refreshed so I went to a camera shop and bought some batteries for my digital camera, some day I’ll work out why some work and some don’t. I rode back to old town square where the Czech rep. - Holland match crowd were drifting away, having seen their team win the match. Old town square is usually a busy but quiet place that’s always kept spotless, the Dutch left it knee deep in Stella bottles and plastic beer cups. Damn foreigners.


Having cooked an entire day in town I headed for a fast food place and then for the metro back to Skalka, stopping on the way to talk to Jan, who was riding this superb chopper. I arrived back at halls and cracked open a cold one. I’m sure someone said you should drink 8 pints a day or something, I’m trying my best.






Sunday was greeted by falling on my face front a foot up when I reached for my alarm clock. If you’ve ever fallen out of bed onto your face, you’ll know that it’s bloody hard to go back to sleep, even if it is 6:30am. Breakfast was made and I discovered I was out of teabags. Damn. I replaced the tea with a beer and vowed to go shopping. I might get some more beer, reach that 8 pints a day. I rode to Skalka again, stopping at the petrol station to use their air line. Got some proper pressure in those tyres now, stair sets here I come! I rode down to old town square where they were laying out metal barriers. Interesting. I abducted a policeman and used my limited Czech and unlimited ability to get Czechs to speak English to find out what was going on. Turned out it was a cycling marathon. The course was about a half mile, cobblestones all the way. I rode the course and thought my ankles and wrists were going to fall off, these streets take it out of you. First to ride were kids on various sorts of bikes, Argos bikes, BMXs, mountain bikes, everything. Next to ride were the junior roadie bunch who were mostly riding cyclocross bikes, Maggers, you’d have loved it. You’d have won too. I found out that the main event wasn’t till three so I decided to go for a ride, try and get lost. I rode past the Mústek metro stop and over a bunch of big thick electricity cables which led to what looked like temporary traffic lights and a big light board. ‘This is odd’ thought I. I rode on a few extra metres when I heard someone yell “cut” through a megaphone. I looked around to see a hundred pairs of eyes staring at me with a look that told me I was somewhere I shouldn’t be. It was about that time that I saw the three cameras, the purpose of the traffic lights, mirror image signs and the 20 cars all pointed the wrong way down this street with mirror images of Irish number plates. I’d ridden into a film set. Oops. A small amount of backtracking and explaining was done and I sat and watched for a few minutes. I was feeling the need for a beer so I headed for the pub. There’s never a bad time for beer. Once leaving the pub I picked up a baguette from a fast food hut and sat down to eat my lunch. Within the first bite I was aware of someone standing over me. I looked up to see an unwashed face who mumbled something in Czech, then in English. “Do you have 20 crowns so I may use the payphone”. Twenty crowns is about 50p, and will get you a pint, or a bottle of whatever you want in one of the seedier off-licences. I’m not paying for someone else to wreck their liver, my habit costs enough as it is. I called upon my full abilities with the Czech language to suggest to the guy that he might have better luck elsewhere. He left empty-handed. Two bites of my rather pleasant sandwich later I became aware of someone who looked about my age standing next to the bin a few metres away. He glanced around and reached into the bin, pulling out a half eaten green apple which he instantly began to consume. This is capitalism in action. The rich here drive Porsches, Ferraris, new BMWs, the best. The poor here are truly poor. Not only are they homeless but they’re desperate enough for food that a bin is a supermarket. My pity is momentarily suspended as I spot the collapsed veins and track marks of a heroin addict. He can’t have been any older than most of you guys. Come winter, no doubt, many of these who cannot find a bed in the few shelters will freeze to death. I finished my sandwich with a guilty feeling, sat next to a £100 helmet and a £600 bike. I headed back to Old Town Square to watch the race. The starting bell went and 30 or so racers set off on the short course. Within a two minutes they were back round at the start, really banking it over even with the slippery cobbled street. The bikes were really taking a beating, one guy pulled out as his rear wheel disintegrated, another as a carbon chainstay snapped. These guys went at it for about ¾ hour, really hammering. It was about then that I spotted the guy second from last. He climbed from second to last to about the middle of the pack by the middle of the race. No big deal for a pro roadie you might say, but this guy was riding twice the race of every other guy there. Clipped in and going for it hell for leather, this guy lacked one right leg. He didn’t come first but in the mind of pretty much everyone there he won.




I met Jan who had his chopper with him again.

We rode to the railway station where I helped him load his monster onto the train, no mean feat given that the platforms here don’t meet the level of the train. The station is a place with a lot of steps, and a lot of dealers and escorts. Not somewhere you might want to hang around. I got on the metro and headed back to Skalka to ride home. My halls are near a major tram terminal station, and I have to ride past it (or through it) to get back. I thought I’d ride through it and hopped over the barrier to ride the tram rails into the station. As I looked ahead I saw a shaft of light penetrating the sky. Odd. Very odd. As I rode into the station proper I saw the source, a giant searchlight, now trained on the station itself revealing what looked like heavy snowfall people milling about a number 22 tram. Then, once again, I spotted the cameras. Same film crew. The Tram was full of big red numbers, with people squeezed in-between. Odd. Turns out they’re filming a commercial for some mobile phone company. I’ve ridden into their sets enough today, I wonder if I’m in it….