Czech, sound check, Czech Republic: Chipsy and Sticklets in Prague

I left Fulda and arrived in Cologne on a Monday evening, to be greeted at the train station by the ever-delightful Katarina. We spent the night drinking wine, catching up and talking endlessly the way two friends who haven't seen each other for some time do. (I'm somewhat surprised that she didn't knock me out to shut me up!)

The very next day, she whisked me off for a week in Prague and Berlin!

First stop: Prague (Wow!).

How is it possible that one city can be so beautiful?

Not an old, shabby or run down building to be found in the old town– everything grand and colorful and all a bit surreal.

It is like someone has dropped you right into the middle of a fairy tale and you're not quite sure where to start or what to look at.

We arrived at night, starving and thirsty and found a little pub / restaurant that served delicious butterfish and beer by the half litre (at 12% alcohol and very dangerous!).

We found Old Town Square, admired the architecture, and then wandered into a little jazz bar. Upon browsing the menu, I found myself in a fit of giggles because let's face it, 'Chipsy' just sounds funny and I wasn't quite sure what 'Sticklets' were. And so, then and there, we decided to change our names and adopt our new identities: Chipsy (Kat) and Sticklets (Me).

(Turns out 'chipsy' is potato chips whilst we are still not sure what sticklets are. Possibly potato chips on a stick, and yes, that is a real thing...)

We wandered through town trying to uncover some night life, but after a couple of pub and cocktail bar stops, decided to go back to the hotel, re group and rest in preparation for a full day of sightseeing.

The next day, map in hand, we found our way to Prague Castle in time for the changing of the guards, had brunch on a terrace overlooking a Monastery, wandered the cobbled streets surrounding the Castle and in the Old Town, took a cruise along the river and walked to the (somewhat underwhelming) Dancing Houses.

By day, we sought out the sights in the beautiful city that is Prague, often stopping for an afternoon beer or Aperol Spritzer, and every night, we found a different live jazz venue for great music, drinks, and dancing in our seats.

Prague is a spectacularly beautiful city and I was lucky to have such brilliant company - someone who likes to sleep in as much as I do, go sightseeing in the afternoon (no early morning starts), who enjoys nice dinners and drinks and live music, and above all else, who can keep me laughing day and night...

Together, we shall take on Berlin... (if I make it because in my hungover state, standing upright on the platform, waiting for the train is literally the hardest thing I have ever had to do...)

Germany Part One: Fulda and Eschwege and beyond!

Here we are. Mid-August. I've been in Germany for two weeks and what a two-weeks it has been.

It all began one Tuesday afternoon, when I took the train from Paris, flew to Frankfurt, and then took another train to the delightful town of Fulda to visit my friend Sabrina.

It was my first night and we planned to go out for a beer or two, and then find a nice restaurant to have some dinner. However, walking through town, we heard music and decided to investigate.

There in the heart of town, in a square fenced off from the public, we found a private party. It was some kind of military congress (Veteran's Day?) – I'm not quite sure what exactly, but there were people of all ages drinking and dancing, a marching band and then a brass band that played for a couple of hours.

We slipped behind the fence and wandered to the bar, expecting to pay for our wines but behold, no one seemed to question our being there and we found ourselves with endless glasses of German wine, free food, and all the dancing we could muster.

It was one of those random, unplanned, wonderfully fun and memorable nights.

Next stop: a four-day music festival in Eschwege, complete with camping, portaloos, and a range of bands I was not familiar with.

It was an experience unlike no other I have had – particularly the part where I lined up as I imagine they do in a women's prison and showered in a makeshift group shower contraption with no curtains and full-frontal views of strangers.

We enjoyed lots of beer – in the sun, at the campsite, at various stages and at all times of the day and night. There was a plentiful supply of drunken fools to laugh at (myself included) and a great group of people to meet. At one point, and quite possibly the first time in my life, I was put up on a very tall drunk man's shoulders and feared for my life because falling head first onto concrete did not seem appealing but thankfully I survived!

On Sunday, the final day and night of the festival, we made our way to the main stage to see four or five bands, including the headliner. Suddenly, the skies opened and it began to rain. And not small, manageable drops of rain but a torrential downpour that soaks you to the bone in seconds, that turns the ground into lake-sized puddles and mud and slush.

At that point, wet, cold, and with the very real possibility of our car drowning in mud in the car park, we decided to leave and head for home.

It was an abrupt ending but quite the adventure!

Back in Fulda, and after a number of extensive showers to remove the camp mud and grime, I was treated to a lovely afternoon with Sabrina and her family in her home town.

There were freshly baked cakes, tea and coffee and her beyond adorable parents showing me photo albums and making each other laugh (my faith in the possible longevity of love has been partially restored!).

We spent the afternoon lying in the garden in the sun, cycling through the nearby forest (although my version of cycling is pushing the bike uphill and only riding downhill...) and trying to decipher tent-folding instructions.

We stayed for a delicious home cooked dinner, a bottle of wine and dessert before heading back to Sabrina's completely and utterly sated.

My last few days were spent seeing the sights of Fulda, visiting a Castle and a Palace, and after viewing the size of the tiny beds, furniture and armour, wondering just how small people were back in the olden days.

On Friday night, Sabrina and her friend Leonie had a DJ-ing gig at a local bar which involved the usual antics of drinking, possibly some dancing, and many random conversations with strangers.

I have never seen two people enjoy playing music so much and let's face it, chic DJ's are awesome!

The next night, we went out for dinner, came home for beers on the balcony, and then at 2:30am, found ourselves heading out again to a 'BBQ'... I use the term BBQ loosely because it was long past the meat-cooking, eating part of the evening and the BBQ itself now acted as a fire. There, in a large tent set up in the backyard, people passed a guitar around, we sang, laughed and stayed up until sunrise. Yet another random, hilarious night in Fulda!

Before long, it was time to pack once again, say goodbye, board a train, and prepare for the whirlwind that would be Cologne, Prague and Berlin.

Some note-worthy points:

1. A HUGE thank you to Sabrina for having me, for taking me to festivals and castles and palaces, and above all, for not throwing me out when I almost burned down her kitchen... twice.
2. There really are good, honest, kind people in the world. After leaving my purse in a Burger King bathroom, going sightseeing for hours upon hours before realising, and heading back convinced that it would be long gone, I was delightfully surprised to have it handed back to me – money and credit cards still in tact (there were happy tears).
3. It might be time for rehab... ;)

France, France, glorious France...

France will always be one of my very favourite places in the whole wide world.

There is no better suited union that France and I. In fact, we should get married. If it were possible to marry a country, I would marry France in a heartbeat and our marriage, unlike one in two, would not end in divorce for three very simple reasons:

1. Summer is my favourite season. In a perfect world, I would follow summer all year round – from Australia to France, and back again.

The South of France offers blue skies a plenty, endless coastlines of beaches and sun, sun, glorious sun (Yet without the harsh ozone layer effect whereby you burn to a crisp).

2. Wine. Anyone who knows me will know that I am a committed lover of the vino. Be it white, rose or red, I do not discriminate. Imagine a place where you could leave your house, drive for mere minutes past gorgeous vineyards and have your choice of countless wineries. Where, after tasting the delicious produce, you can pick up a bottle for a few euro, or should your heart desire, buy it by the litre-ful.

3. Food. It is probably a good thing that I left France when I did or I may have arrived home 10 kilos heavier. The food is so ridiculously good – freshly baked bread, pastries, home-grown tomatoes, locally farmed goats cheese. Restaurants with delicious meats and seafood. One does not go hungry in France... Ever.

I arrived in Toulon, in the South of France on a Monday evening, after yet another gruelling journey involving two tubes, a train, a plane (which was delayed), a bus and another two trains, totalling 11 hours.

Nathalie and her husband Alan, kindly collected me from the train station saving me a final (and possibly fatal) bus ride.

As they had both finished work and were no doubt tired, I was expecting to go home but instead was in for a glorious welcome.

I was taken to an old town and a restaurant atop a hill, overlooking vineyards and farmland, where I ate the most delicious duck and drank some local red wine.

Afterwards, we went to a night market alongside a marina, where, though tempted by all the gorgeous handmade jewellery, soaps and crafts, I refrained from buying anything (I have a very strict baggage allowance and an even stricter budget).

Once back at the apartments where Nathalie and her family live, I was surprised to find that I had an apartment of my very own. I would have been happy with the couch, or even a spot on the floor but they assured me it would be quieter if I were to have a space of my own.

I don't think it is possible to find a family more welcoming, generous and hospitable than Nathalie's.

On my first day, whilst Nathalie was at work, her mother invited me to her apartment for lunch where she cooked spaghetti bolognese (how did she know that is my all-time favourite?) and offered to do my laundry.

I spent the day, like most days I was there, reading by the pool and swimming (it's a hard life). When I mentioned that my hair was in need of a bit of attention, I was swiftly given an appointment at her father's salon.

There was a bike, and a map left for me, should I wish to go cycling to the beach, and a plentiful supply of food.

In the mornings, I would wake to find two freshly baked chocolate croissants, vanilla yoghurt and a mug with a teabag in it, ready for my breakfast.

In the evenings, when Nathalie came home from work, she would take me to the beach, to the marina for ice cream, out for a drink, or to yet another delicious restaurant. Or we'd just get something to cook for dinner and sit outside, talking and drinking wine.

By now, I am sure you can see why I would have been happy to stay there forever and ever and ever... (if only I spoke French...)

On Saturday, up bright and early, we packed our beach things and a picnic and headed for the canyons and lakes, about 2 – 3 hours away.

If there is one thing I can say with absolute certainty, it's that I have not seen more beautiful scenery than on this trip.

Up to the top of a canyon, down to the lakes, paddle boating, and then a visit to a charming old town - all in a day's work!

Sadly (very, very sadly), I had to leave La Londe, Nathalie, and her beautiful family and board a train. But all is not lost because said train was heading to Paris! A crowd pleaser indeed.

I will admit, I was sceptical - my very affordable, budget, single room hotel was supposedly 'just minutes' from the Eiffel Tower.

It has happened on more than one occasion where I have arrived in a place only to find that my 'very central' accommodation, 'in the heart of the city' was actually miles upon miles away (in my defense, this was before Google Maps).

To my delight, the hotel was truly in the heart of Paris with the Louvre and the Notre Dame a walk in one direction and the Eiffel Tower literally around the corner.

I spent a glorious afternoon walking through Paris, taking (far too many) photos of the sights, stopping at cafes with seats on the street so you could have a glass of red and watch the world pass you by...

It was a brief affair but one to remember nonetheless, as the next day I was due to take a metro (5 stops), a bus (1 hour), a flight (delayed), a shuttle bus, and not one, but two trains to Frankfurt and then Fulda, to start the Germany part of my trip.

One must not complain however, about the long and tiresome commutes because the sights you see in between are pretty damn epic. 

From Paris, with love!

P.S For those women out there who are wondering where all the good looking men are, I have semi-good news. No, they are not all married, gay or dead.

They simply live in Paris.

Start booking your tickets ;)

P.P.S Karma does exist. Once upon a time, last October, my dear Mother and I travelled to Hawaii where I laughed hysterically when she fell out of a hammock. Fast forward to the present day and I too, upon attempting to get in, fell from grace, bruised my arm and peeled a layer of skin off.

As they say, 'Karma's a bitch!'

Over and out xo