An Expensive Beer

A rather cliché observation, from the day after two wonderful days of walking. I was thirsty, tired, and awkward. The full glass of beer and  laptop computer were the props in a divine comedy. A comedy of error. Let's not start at the end, though, but instead with the first steps across a flat boring plain, yet undeveloped, the asphalt is already laid.

My day began with a hurried ride to the upper edge of our little village, a neighborhood of Prague. Marie was on the phone with her mom, who was waiting for her, thus, she quickly dropped me and Otík, our dog and my traveling companion. For both of us this was nothing new, to walk. For the first time, however, the destination was farther away. It took more than 1 hour for the terrain to match the hopes of either one of us.

Nevertheless, we were on our way, following a red marked path between Slivenec and Lochkov, down in Radotinské Údolí, past the powerful transformers, where the sky was crossed with wires that seemed to come at us from all directions. As long as we were in earshot of the static buzz and roar, a tireless flow of motor vehicles and electric energy, the leash was pulled tight. This was not the quieting walk I had looked forward to. Our destination was still a long way, and only when I read the warning signs, and could see the vast open quarry below me, could I appreciate just how big a footprint Prague fills.

Another kilometer further, I passed the remains of an old mill, once prosperous, now after years of neglect, seeing the first attempts to restore this grand old structure. At this point in my journey there came an intersection of trails. I choose the blue trail to climb out from the valley, towards Třebotov. I found an old Jewish cemetery on the map a day earlier, and also the údolí I followed was wet and difficult with mud. I was ready for the horizon of a plain with a view of the countryside.

I walked up, passed weekend cottages, mostly quiet and lonely, but full of imagined stories. The large freshly turned fields were a welcome change from the mud, but without any trees for markers, I had to keep my eyes peeled for direction. There in the middle of a rather large emptiness, at a crossroad without a sign, I spied in the field, on the leg of a giant skeletal tower used to suspend electric power lines (no matter how far you walk, it seems they are always there) the mark for my trail. I was not lost. A tractor passed me, with a friendly nod from the farmer, then climbed out of sight. Another Kilometer and I was in Třebotov, but unfortunately I had forgotten about the cemetery due to my hunger. I found a stump to sit and eat, then continued in haste, eager to move on.