Travel snob

Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
Trip End Ongoing

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Flag of Czech Republic  , Moravia,
Thursday, August 16, 2012

I've changed to Hostel Mitte in the centre of town today with the express intention of visiting some wonderful caves and scenery in the Czech countryside.  As this is a fair distance outside the city, I've arrived too late to go, so change my plans accordingly.  Don't go out.  Stay in.  Don't drink or smoke.  My lunch consists of a salad and a tin of olives, and I'm drinking water all day.  With my window being wide open due to the summer heat, I can hear the sounds of revelers filtering through.  What frustrates me the most is I can't work out if they're speaking Czech or they're just pissed up Scousers.  Either way the clammer of voices makes me want to go out.  

Three young Italian guys are sharing my room and are sending me into a stinking mood.  I'm just in a stinking mood as it is anyway, but they're insisting on coming into my personal space and making small talk.  I know I'm being an arsehole, but I have no interest in them whatsoever, and they're not getting the hint that I don't want to talk.  The usual barrage of questions is fired in, and my heart sinks low as this is accompanied by one of them pulling up a chair to sit by my bedside.  My one word answers are clearly having no effect.

I'm all for meeting people on the road, making new friends, listening to others stories, picking up new information and ideas for places to go.  However I am aware I'm becoming something of a travel snob and I need to nip that in the bud.  But there are those times I just don't want to talk to anyone, and people really do need to wise up and cotton onto that.  There is nothing worse then trying to concentrate on some life administration with hangover shakes, while someone is asking you who you are, where you're from, what's good to do here, where you're going next, have you been out, did you see such and such an attraction, how long are you staying, what do you do, is that your guitar, and what are you doing tonight.  The list is not exhaustive, all delivered from point blank range.  Get out of my face.

Like a junkie coming off heroin, the sounds of the city coming alive at night sends me into shivers and withdrawal.  I expect to see a baby crawling on the ceiling.  I some how manage to keep myself under house arrest and turn in early, after a productive day organising practical and useful...errr...stuff.  I've decided to undertake this journey on behalf of Macmillan Cancer Support, who provided indispensable and vital care for my parents in their twilight years.  I have contacted the charity, so hopefully details on how to sponsor will appear soon.  I go to sleep feeling a little more at ease than I have these last few days, content I'm not just doing this for myself.  

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