The biggest problem we’re having in the Czech is translation.

For instance, “bike path.” In all other languages thus far, be it Dutch: Fietspad or German: Radweg it has meant a route off of the main road that is well marked, easy enough to navigate and either paved, or at worst, packed gravel. Not here.

We’re not entirely sure what “bike path” means in Czech, but the working definition that we’ve nailed down based on experience is as follows: Meant for bikes, but better if the bike has a motor and big knobby off road tires. Sometimes paved, but that is only to draw the unsuspecting rider in, the real path then degenerates beginning with double tire tracks of packed earth, “Not so bad,” the cyclist thinks to herself, “We can do this…” only to have the “path” deteriorate to one small walking path of dirt or mud, or possibly cobble stone in the middle of a field left from the Soviet era (worse than the mud).

Occasionally, but regularly enough to have other cyclists in campgrounds warn us, so bad that bags fall completely off of bikes due to the jarring terrain into the adjacent river (we lost a bag, but not into the river.) Said paths are also likely to be littered with tree roots, cow pies, downed trees that must be portaged under, and from time to time, a corn field. Are you getting the picture? From the Czech border to Prague has been a logistical nightmare on the bike paths, but reasonably smooth when we (like the locals) stick to the roads.
We rode for two straight days, almost entirely uphill, to get to Prague and then raced down steep hills into the valley holding the city under a foggy morning sky. To see the ancient city unfold before us as we crested the hill might have been magical, had it not been for the three lanes of traffic barreling around us at rush hour Monday morning. Complete with tour buses honking, taxis careening around corners and topped off with our complete inability to read Czech. Latin is not helping much with the slavic languages, I’m sad to say. I’m happy to report that the children rode in like the champions they are. With London, Amsterdam, Aachen, Mainz, Berlin and a few other major burgs under their belts they took Prague in stride. It was Daddy and I who were a little tense as we navigated the inevitable cobblestone alleys and cursed ourselves for not sleeping in an extra couple of hours to miss rush hour. Not that it would have helped much.

By the time we found our apartment at the edge of Praha 1 we were completely exhausted.

We had had no breakfast due to the utter lack of grocery stores the day before. Dinner had been eaten at the campsite restaurant. We ended up stopping in front of a sports arena and gobbling up left over chocolate sandwich cookies and half a bag of stale popcorn to keep the blood sugar high enough not to crash into a street trolley on the way in. It was with great delight and growling bellies that we found a store with rolls and salami (our lunchtime staples) to munch in St. Charles Square while we waited for the cleaning lady to finish our rooms. It would have been perfect: sunshine, books for parents to read while lounging on park benches and lunch al fresco, had it not been for the dog poop.

Yes, dog poop: smeared front and back on Elisha’s legs, randomly on Ezra and even on Hannah… and me with no wet wipes.
To our great amazement, the apartment is wonderful: wood floors, 12 foot ceilings, gleaming white walls with elegant curtains, a big kitchen with modern appliances, even a washing machine. The downside: it’s a fifth floor walk up. Sigh. It was quite a production, as usual, to unload all 22 bags plus guitar and violin and shlep them up the stairs… not to mention the bikes, which had to be disassembled and pushed up five flights of stairs to take up residence in our big hallway. Now that we’re in, we may never leave!
Today the children and I dove into those Czech school books they’ve been itching to start and had some “school time.” Fun was had by all and we all enjoyed resuscitating old routines. I puttered in the kitchen and eventually produced a meal of baked chicken with roasted veggies and our famous sesame green beans, none of which we’ve had at all in four months. The children nearly fell off of their chairs (which they share, two kids to one chair) with delight. We’ve explored the neighborhood a little and found the (over priced) English language bookstore and the post office. And of course, we purchased ice cream to put in the freezer. That won’t last long.

We’ll be in Prague at least a week… maybe three if Tony’s job contracts work out. Either way, we’re savoring the moment, dancing in the kitchen to our favorite music (Hannah has to dance fast and take it in turns with her brothers). After three and a half months on the road our top floor apartment is a little oasis to be savored before we dive back into Prague traffic and head south for the next adventure.