Die, Imperialist Pigs!

Today we were determined to find the John Lennon wall so I asked our concierge where it was. She described a complicated series of maneuvers through Kampa Park and a street with many embassies on it. Kevin and I headed first for lunch at Rejkyavik even though it wasn’t mentioned in Three Perfect Days. We sat outdoors and watched the tour groups go by as we ate a couple of decent burgers with zero-three Coke Light. We snapped a couple photos and then crossed the Charles Bridge. We made a compete tour of the area where the John Lennon wall was supposed to be and finally found it in the last place we looked, right across the street from the French Embassy. We took photos to prove that it existed and then sat down on a bench in Mala Strana to reflect on our trip.

We decided we had had enough walking for awhile and headed back to the hotel where we played a little blackjack and video poker. Ironically I hit my first natural royal flush but this particular machine only paid a measly 200 to 1 on it versus the usual 800 to 1 so I had to be content with 4000 Kè ($100). It was still pretty cool. Kevin was playing the continuous-shuffle machine so I reminded him that we don’t play that on principle and we had them open up a table with a four-desk shoe. Kevin got hoovered again but I couldn’t lose.

We dressed for dinner and walked to Kampa Park restaurant underneath the far side of the Charles Bridge to meet Larry. This was my favorite restaurant last trip but now the group that owned this and two of my other favorite restaurants had split up, leaving Kampa Park the poor stepchild. The cook was gone and the cooking suffered. Kevin’s halibut was dry. My rabbit salad had gristle and bone shards in it and the roast pork came out on the rare side. I sent it back for more cooking because I’d been programmed to believe I would instantly die of trichinosis if I had eaten it. It came back cooked but dry of course. As a rule I don’t eat dessert but Kevin and Larry had some and I didn’t want them to feel bad so I had just one slice of caramel chocolate torte which was very good. Dinner came to 5000 Kè ($125) for the three of us. It didn’t suck but it had dropped from my list of favorite restaurants.

We walked back and noticed a distinct police presence in preparation for the meeting of the International Monetary Fund (IMF). We walked by a news camera crew on the Charles Bridge and as I passed in front of the camera I raised my fist and shouted, “Die, imperialist pigs!” The cameraman looked confused. Old Town Square was being set up for something or other and there were police cars everywhere. We saw a group of three young people sitting outdoors right next to a paddy wagon drinking beer, an deed for the brave back home in the land of the free but not at all unusual in Praha.

We got back home to the Marriott and found Robert in the casino. We all played a little more cards, winning and winning and winning. It was an incredible run for me. I didn’t lose a single session the whole week. Kevin didn’t fare as well but he did recoup some of his losses. He had taken it upon himself to tutor the entire table of drunken Brits in the fine points of blackjack strategy and was doing pretty well at it. They kept bringing us free liquor hoping we would start to lose but it didn’t work. It wasn’t long after midnight that we decided to retire to our rooms but given that it was midday Los Angeles time I decided to stay up and work on my computer rather than sleep.


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