A much better day today. I was woken up at 8.30 with a poke on the cheek from a three-year old Croatian kid, while lying on a sofa downstairs at the Clown and Bard hostel. The mother of the boy offered me a cup of coffee but I declined and escaped down the hill.
Halfway to the tram stop I heard what I imagined to be a hundred-strong crowd chanting “we are the mods.” As I turned the corner I saw that my guess had been pretty accurate, I’d just got mods confused with thugs. A few panicked town police lined the sides of the road while the skinheads processed up the hill toward me.
As interesting as they looked, walking past them was probably not the best idea, so I changed direction and headed for Lipanska. As I exited the potraviny with bread and potato salad ten police cars and five old school police vans sped past toward the mob.
It was hot, so I thought I would come to Old Town to eat breakfast ‘al fresco’ with a cup of coffee taken free from a malfunctioning machine on Jindriska. That done, I had a much-needed shave in the toilets at McDonald’s. I could easily have done it at one of the friends houses I’ve been staying at, but I thought hey, why not go for the complete homeless lifestyle. Bumped into Russian Saša on the way out and pretended to be embarrassed to be caught “having breakfast” there.
Today is Easter Sunday, so I’ve been walking around looking at the ‘old time’ metalworking and snack making. It’s become easy to forget what a beautiful city this is, but today it is at least a little sunny and everything looks amazing. I’m going to wander around some more across the Charles Bridge and pretend to be a backpacker before I go to meet with Chelsea at 3.
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Could I just point out the increasingly Americanized nature of your reports. Notably the unnecessary preposition ‘with’ following the verb ‘to meet’ in this entry and also the use of the past simple tense with reference to what you consumed on the previous day when the present perfect would have been more appropriate.
Yeah, you have a point there. That is probably something to do with hanging around with Americans, since nobody else is English anymore. I could artificially preserve my English but what’s the fucking point, eh?
What’s the point? If every manjack had your attitude sonny, we’d all be speaking German, and the British Empire wouldn’t be the indomitable superpower it is today. Play up and play the game for England and Saint George rivers of blood etc.
My Dad is already starting to get to me, evidently.
James, if I may say, did use the wildly inappropriate term GAS STATION the other day.
What a shocker. I worry about the boy too…
-Hamish (Colonial nancy-boy).
Sweet jesus mary mother of god h christ jack.
Don’t let him get away with it.
To be fair I was trying to give directions to an americanka who couldn’t understand me otherwise.