Peeking into the rock

Yesterday we rode the funicular up Petřín Hill to walk around the rose garden and the Secret Garden, which is one of the most beautiful gardens ever. It's not really a secret, though its entry is subtle. It's laid out on a hillside, with benches strewn about it. It smelled so sweetly of alyssum that I was just rapturous about it. This was the first really warm and sunny day in about a week. It's been seriously cloudy and rainy most days.

Coming down I chose to walk. Context: I have arthritis and assorted persistent muscle issues in my legs. I complain about them a lot so I don't suppose this is news. My second worst activity is walking downhill. My worst is walking downstairs. Petřín Hill is tall and steep (hence the very cool funicular, which by the way is accessible with a regular transit pass). So to say that I regretted this decision several times when I realized just how steep and long the path is and just how slow a walker I am going downhill is not an exaggeration. The view is lovely, though, and I saw some gorgeous and puzzling trees and a bit of the Hunger Wall. I regretted the decision a bit more later in the day when I was very slow and achy walking through the rest of our activities, and last nighjt when I was achy enough to have a hard time sleeping though I took tramadol (which only seems to work about half the time I use it though I only use it about half the time when I'm eligible to) but this morning I'm only achy in the "well, that was an underexercised function" way rather than the "oops, I damaged myself" way, so I don't regret it anymore.

Then we had an extended discussion about lunch because we were goin to have ice cream at the best ice cream parlor in the world and thought we ought to have real food first. We have a deep divide when it comes to eating here. I want to explore Czech food and feel that it is a challenge to discover what is good about it. Frank has found two or three Czech things he can tolerate and is unwilling to eat them too frequently just to indulge me. Hana is in-between: she was raised with Czech food (well, Czech expat cooking in Canada anyway), and has a bigger repertoire of it that she likes, but she thinks it's not interesting as a subject. On the other hand, Frank would always like to go to the good burrito joint at Národní třída*, and my attitude is that I can always have burritos in Santa Cruz. We ended up desperate at Karlovo náměstí and jumping into a Chinese restaurant, not my choice but I had about a kilo of very nice green beans, which may be the only thing I didn't regret eating yesterday.

The world's best ice cream parlor is Italská Cukrárna . The plan was to get two of the composed ice cream dishes for the three of us but Frank didn't help eat the one I ordered and I don't have an effective off switch so I felt that I was never going to eat again. This was an erroneous feeling as we were invited to a dinner party at the home of one of the people who works for the web magazine Hana and Frank have been writing reviews for, and her husband is also a Canadian expat with New Mexican roots so he made burritos and also another writer brought a kind of torte rather like my windfall cake made of plums, apples, and hazelnuts from her garden, and the publisher brought a huge chocolate and raspberry cake in the shape of an orange ambulance as a goodbye present for Frank and Hana. By the way if you are going to visit Prague, you should check out the site for Opus Osm before you go: they have classical performing arts listings and you can plan what you're going to do.

Topics of conversation: complex relationship of Czechs to Russians, stories from the occupation, about how bad the police state is in the US and how crazy the bureaucracy is in Czech republic, food of course, language of course, translation, teaching, etc. Boss of Opus Osm brought a huge cake shaped like an orange ambulance as a goodbye present for Frank and Hana. The leftovers, and the hosts from last night as well as the boss, are coming here tonight for supper.

Only a Czech person would describe my skin as dark even at its most tanned, by the way.

Day before, went to Zlicin for grocery shopping (Frank and Hana seriously go grocery shopping four or five days a week), and on my part, just to look at the Metropole shopping center, which was rewarding due to whimsical promotions going on (I have pictures of gnomes and treasure boxes with peepholes, but internet connection being what it is, pictures have to wait). And then Hana and I went to the ballet to see Valmont, which was marvellously staged, danced, and costumed. We both thought it would be a lot better with live music, and the characters are all repellent, but it was wonderful, and so is the Estates theater (Stavovské divadlo) and so were our seats.

*The second article, the one about the metro station, contains an error: there is no "pair of lifts:" there are escalators.
edit to add: yes, there are elevators at one end of the platform. But they are semi-hidden, and the reason there is a pair of them is that you need both of them to get from the platform to the surface. One gets you to the mezzanine level and the other gets you to the street (and higher, as it feeds right into the shopping center/Tesco store above the station.