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Get me off this plane...
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I was rapidly declining into jet lagged-induced hallucinations by the
time my (much delayed of course) flight took off, but tried to look
alive for the group picking me up at Prague.
I resisted the urge to nap, so I wouldn't look like a racoon when I arrived, so simply looked out of the window and tried to work out what country I was flying over. It's a pity they don't label things like they do on maps, because quite frankly I had no idea. Interestingly, I can't remember ever seeing as many other planes in the sky as I did flying over Europe, at one point we were flying through four recent jetstreams, all hanging in the air like giant spider webs. So perhaps the paranoia from my last trip was justified.
I needn't have worried about looking a touch tired and emotional at the end of the trip, as by the time I touched down in Prague, Andrew
was VERY much under the weather (the Czech beer hit him hard) and I was
pretty much left to get to know his brother and girlfriend on my own.
Andrew had to drown his sorrows about his luggage not arriving
(Heathrow again, curses), and Three not actually activating global
roaming as requested, but I still think his solution was
disproportionate.
Anyway, Alex, Jindriska and I had a quick nighttime tour of the city,
which is suitably gorgeous and floodlit, and surprisingly quiet. By the time we got back to Alex's apartment however, I was
pretty much in the same state as Andrew, but sans alcohol, and making
about as much sense. I was seriously losing chunks of time, and was possibly a fairly average conversationalist towards the end of the evening, no doubt leaving Andrew's brother to wonder what sort of half-wit he had dragged halfway round the world.
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