10 May 2014, Prague, Czech Republic
After our dinner at the restaurant adjacent to Hotel Rubicon, I went to the police stations (see last post), Shirl went to the room, and Alex again went out alone. This night's adventure was to be his.
It seems that Prague is a popular city for stag parties, bachelor parties, and the like. It is said to be frequented especially by groups from the British Isles. As it happened, in one night club Alex fell in with a happy bunch of seven Scots dressed in kilts, whooping it up prior to one of the group's wedding. The party lasted into the wee hours of the morning, and much liquor and beer flowed into the bunch, who had accepted my McDougall son as if he were himself in the wedding party. All was jolly good fun until one fellow lost his dinner and drinks on the barroom floor. It was after 4:00 A.M., and apparently, the bartender, too, was deeply into the booze. He ordered the group out, then stood in the doorway, punching in the face any who tried to pass him.
I have always imagined a bar fight to be a healthy experience for a young man to have, provided no one gets seriously hurt, of course. But, I have never heard of a bartender's being the instigator of the violence. Alex says he reacted by trying to grab the bartender's arm, but got kicked in the stomach, then made his escape. Once in the street, he found a phone booth, dialed 112, and reported the incident.
Alex returned to the hotel at about 5:00 A.M. He looked as you might expect, and was upset that he still had the eyeglasses of one of the Scottish men, handed to him during the melee. He does not know the fellows' real names, as they were wearing "Stag Names" on their backs. He has posted notice of the glasses on his Facebook page, and hopes that their owner, or one of his friends, will look for him there.
At 9:00 the next morning I was at the same police station that I had visited 12 hours before. This time, I found the doorbell, was rung in, and with the help of a fine officer named Janu, went through the formalities that would allow me legally to drive Klaus home to Fellbach, without his registration and insurance cards.
Prague is gorgeous. Its architectural variety and grace are indescribable. The castle with its spires across the river from Old Town, seen at dusk silhouetted against a blue-gray glowing sky, as seen from a taxi on the way to a dark police station, is as fine a memory as I have from my visit.
Prague also has a famous zoo. We spent several hours there before departing westward to Bavaria, where we spent two recuperative nights at the excellent Wolfringmühle Hotel and Gästhof.
After our dinner at the restaurant adjacent to Hotel Rubicon, I went to the police stations (see last post), Shirl went to the room, and Alex again went out alone. This night's adventure was to be his.
It seems that Prague is a popular city for stag parties, bachelor parties, and the like. It is said to be frequented especially by groups from the British Isles. As it happened, in one night club Alex fell in with a happy bunch of seven Scots dressed in kilts, whooping it up prior to one of the group's wedding. The party lasted into the wee hours of the morning, and much liquor and beer flowed into the bunch, who had accepted my McDougall son as if he were himself in the wedding party. All was jolly good fun until one fellow lost his dinner and drinks on the barroom floor. It was after 4:00 A.M., and apparently, the bartender, too, was deeply into the booze. He ordered the group out, then stood in the doorway, punching in the face any who tried to pass him.
I have always imagined a bar fight to be a healthy experience for a young man to have, provided no one gets seriously hurt, of course. But, I have never heard of a bartender's being the instigator of the violence. Alex says he reacted by trying to grab the bartender's arm, but got kicked in the stomach, then made his escape. Once in the street, he found a phone booth, dialed 112, and reported the incident.
Alex returned to the hotel at about 5:00 A.M. He looked as you might expect, and was upset that he still had the eyeglasses of one of the Scottish men, handed to him during the melee. He does not know the fellows' real names, as they were wearing "Stag Names" on their backs. He has posted notice of the glasses on his Facebook page, and hopes that their owner, or one of his friends, will look for him there.
At 9:00 the next morning I was at the same police station that I had visited 12 hours before. This time, I found the doorbell, was rung in, and with the help of a fine officer named Janu, went through the formalities that would allow me legally to drive Klaus home to Fellbach, without his registration and insurance cards.
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| Prague Castle (Photo from Google Images) |
Prague also has a famous zoo. We spent several hours there before departing westward to Bavaria, where we spent two recuperative nights at the excellent Wolfringmühle Hotel and Gästhof.
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-Duncan