Another Night at the Tchaiovna

Spent the afternoon wandering around Žižkov, visiting places he hasn’t seen since he lived here, 15 years ago, and I have’ t been into in that long either, what with not drinking and having become sort of a social recluse, which is a Dad thing, partly, but I generally enjoy my routine.  Today was a step outside it, though.
First stop was U Vystřeleneho Oka, with the bloodiest statue I’ve ever seen in my life in front of the place.  A big eye, with an arrow (or some piece of jagged metal, at any rate, piercing it.  I’m probably not spelling it right anyway, though, so I’m switching back to an English keyboard now, so you can forget the haceks and carkas for the rest of this blog.

He was noting all  the things which are the same and all that is different.  Then we walked up Vitkov Hill to gaze upon the giant statue of one-eyed Jan Zizka, from whom the pub and, in fact, the neighborhood gets it’s name.

Then we walked to the Clown and Bard, which I remember as the loudest club I was ever in, at least one night when the band seemed completely oblivious to the size of the room (small) and turned the amps up to 11.  But, we were almost the only people there.

Then we headed back over to the Tchaiovna.  We pulled out a game of Carcassone, which I’d never played, and pretty quick a young couple, German guy, Latvian girl, joined us, and the games rolled on.  Before you know it, it’s near on to midnight and we have to move to catch the last Metro.  I’m not usually that into board games, it sort of strikes me as a conversation  about nothing, but it’s a conversation, nonetheless.

A good time was had.  Signing off now, to free up the living room and go to bed, it’s almost 1 o’clock.


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