Enacting the Middle Ages is difficult. Shivering on a cold courtyard, dressed only in rags resembling a headsman’s uniform. I wasn’t the main act – the herald was. I was there just to snatch the witch to and from the cellar, for what felt like 100 times a day. Between the acts, we sat in an even colder, marble-lined room, and the chill was eating up my bones. After two weeks of this, I was properly done for, exhausted, grumpy about the whole world, and I didn’t want to do anything else than take a hot bath, lay in my bed, and read.
My friends had different plans. They went to a concert in Prague. A concert where I wanted to go as well, at first, and where they invited me multiple times. But yeah, I was tired. I was not up to anything social once the medieval ordeal finished. Also, I was broke. I couldn’t even go to a concert in my hometown, if there was any. The money from my acting gig were due in more than a month, and I had no savings. Then V got sick, and gave me his ticket for free.
On Sunday morning, I boarded a train to Bratislava, from where I planned to hitchhike. I found a suitable spot near the highway ramp. Hopefully, I’d get to Prague in few hours. Bratislava was sleepy and empty when I got there at 9 AM.
You know the routine. Writing “PRAGUE” on the cardboard in big letters, sticking out my thumb, smiling, and patientce. So I did. 1 hour, 2 hours. I smiled and held my thumb high for each passing car. Some of the drivers thought I was there to make them smile back. Some of them apparently had x-ray vision. Some of them found it reasobale to show me thumbs down. Whatever.
Feeling a little low on my way there turned to hopelessness. One (personal) rule of hitchhiking is to never have any expectations, regarding time, only a rough plan in mind. I break it every time. I wasn’t giving up though. I returned to the train station, hoping to catch a train. The robotic voice had just announced one, as I arrived. One that was supposed to leave in few minutes. I snached one of the last low cost tickets, and boarded. 2 hours of failed hitchiking behind me, five hours in train ahead. Let’s hope they’ll be successful.
Everytime I come to Prague, it feels special. Be it by train, bus, or car, upon entering the ancient city, I feel like the walls and streets speak to me. It was the same this time, although I was a bit more stressed than usually. My friends were supposed to wait for me on the main station, rushing me with calls for the last hour, but when I got off the train, they were nowhere to be found. They called one last time, told me which tram to take, and where to meet them. Alright.
Another 30 minutes commuting, and I found them. We started drinking almost immediately, before we even reached the venue. The concert was in a small club in a remote part of Prague which I’d never been to before. The place was packed with skaters, punks and other bums. No wonder, the band came all the way from Australia. Luckily we found a free table, and we got on with the evening. Beers, schnaps. The normal stuff.
I was playing foosball with someone, and at first I didn’t even notice that the band started playing. I was already considerably drunk, and I didn’t care for the music that much. Usually I was among the first in the pit, but this time I didn’t find the idea too inviting. The band played some songs I liked, and some I didn’t know. I scored few goals but received more. I was having a good time.
The problem was, that the more drunk I was, the more I wanted to smoke some weed. And I had none. And I was in a city where I didn’t know anyone who could sell me any. Only if… I had a great idea. The band is known as stoners, so they’d definitely have some, right? I went to the backstage after the gig, and asked them. I don’t know how I got there. Neither did they. Needless to say, they didn’t give me any. Suckers.
What happened next is quite foggy. After the gig we went out and socialized. The alcohol was working wonders. It was a matter of time until somebody would notice the skateboard strapped to my backpack. Soon enough, it happened.
“Hey! Do some tricks!”
“I don’t know much, but you can, if you want.”
I put it down, on the ground. And people rode it. People were grinding tricks on it. Competing against each other. It was nuts. For almost an hour we cheered, hyped and looked in awe on the ever-more complicated stunts these people were doing. Just like the soup on the Czech crust festival, I consider this skate competition an achievement. Although I didn’t participate, I like to think that it wouldn’t happen without me. A boy from a small Slovak town. One who couldn’t do a single ollie, who couldn’t even ride properly, but had enough foresight to bring a skateboard to a skate-punk band’s concert. The cheap kid-store skateboard that I bought from my classmate few years ago for 20 euros, with two separate payments. The cheap skateboard on which I dislocated my left shoulder, an injury still haunting me to this day. I may not even be an average skateboarder, but some people had a good time skating, thanks to me, I like to think.
Afterwards, we moved closer to the center. Everything is blurry from this point on, a mess of sounds and colors. I remember there was some creepy guy following us, who we ran away from eventually. We went to a typical Czech bar. I remember being too tired and drunk to keep my head up. I was falling asleep on the table most of the time. One old guy told me there was a birthday party going on. A birthday party of a Czech rapper. The guy was his friend, and he bought him a frozen chicken, as a present. The rapper was as drunk as I was. Maybe a tad bit more. After countless hours of this ordeal, we finally went back to the hotel. I passed out immediately.
The morning was hard. I didn’t have enough time to sleep out the hangover, I didn’t have enough time to get some proper rest after all that happened the last few days. I just wanted to spend the whole day in bed, but I couldn’t. We had to leave the hotel, and then eventually catch a train back home. Onto the streets again.
It wasn’t possible to buy a tram ticket at the stop where we were waiting, nor from the conductor. And we couldn’t get one through mobile as well, because we didn’t have a Czech number. So I had to stowaway instead, along with one girl from our group. As life usually goes, few stops in an inspector got on. I was able to jump out of the tram in time, but the girl wasn’t, so she left weighting 30 euros less.
I met with the rest of the group near Václavské náměstí, where we had Indian food for lunch. This helped my hangover a little, and I finally didn’t feel like shit. Rest of the day is not worth a mention. What I didn’t know was that it would be among the last times I went out with this with this group. I sort of went my own way, and we never really hung out that much afterwards. Maybe I should get out the old skate from my basement after all those years.