I first came across this quote when I was getting my hair rinsed before a cut at a shop in Amherst. It was plastered to the ceiling, and with not much else to look at or think about, I made an effort to remember the author's name: John W. Gardner
I have to say it's become clearer and more applicable by the day. By some strange coincidence, I recently lost my actual eraser that I'd been using to draw with (given all the free time I've had, I've been sketching and drawing more than I have in a long time).
Thus, I've found myself literally drawing without an eraser and it's given me a unique opportunity to reflect on the quote as it relates to my situation. I view Gardner's metaphorical drawing instrument as a pencil; its marks are not permanent but without an eraser, each line has a consequence. There are ways to obscure mistakes or make small changes that in the long run make a significant difference for the picture (smudging or shading, for example), but these are cosmetic rather than wholly corrective changes. Paint or ink would mean real permanence eraser or not.
Without my eraser, I've used those techniques in drawing. I'm not a terrific artist and I make plenty of mistakes. If you're still with me, the drawing that depicts me in Prague for the year was begun, but now I'm in the process of changing the outlines; I can't erase those marks, but I'm trying to alter and integrate them into whatever comes next.
That's all. A scene from the Royal Gardens next to the castle.
[Author's note: I took this trip alone, as no one else was free, so these are notes that I took during the day. Very much inside my head, it was actually pretty refreshing]
Aboard the bus to Český Krumlov. It is packed with quirky old British ladies. I anticipate the "oh my's" will continue. Their latest revelation came when they figured out how to operate the arm rests. First impressions live up to its reputation as one of the most picturesque destinations in all of Europe. Three hours due south of Prague, Český Krumlov was among the first places in the region designated a UNESCO world heritage site, and it doesn't take long to understand why. This place is more fairy tale than reality. It somehow lacks the superficial qualities you sometimes sense in parts of Prague's Old Town - perhaps its the beauty of the landscape surrounding the town that provides a natural context. To be sure, though a gem, it is not hidden. I am not alone in my tourism, there are Brits and Germans everywhere. I wonder what its like to actually live here. Hard to imagine.
The Eggenberg Brewery
One of the attractions that drew me here is the historic Eggenberg Brewery. I arrive at 2pm. Tours began at 11am, but I am informed that they are already done for the day. Right. So Staropramen maintains its advantage.
An adjoining beer garden takes the edge off. The Eggenberg 10 degree tastes a bit like a more refined Staropramen svelty, nothing special. The whiff of unrefined wort mash I got around back of the factory stands out and a tinny aftertaste lingers. Overall crisp, but definitely not Heineken Light dad. I suppose rich history ought not be confused with rich taste...more on that later.
While I'm here, I may as well try the other varieties. Okay, so the waitress just sat down with her lunch and shoots me a glare before I can say anything. I place my glass on the bar and nod. To the beer hall!
Woah, bartender in here has an attitude. I tried asking about their other beer styles, unsure of what to get. He points to the board and snappily tells me to just pick one. There goes your tip sunshine. Some of these Czechs are really hard to crack.
Choices are the light, the dark, and the (yeast? couldn't really understand him). I opt for the 3rd. Much better than the last. More attention to filtering, cleaner finish. There is a real difference between the 10 and 12 degree beers - more pronounced in some than others. It's not just ABV content, it's the process and the attention to quality. It can be traced back to medieval times. The servants drank the watered-down, bottom-of-the-troth crude beer (think Coors, but rather than Rocky Mountain water, water from the Charles River, only worse back then as the problem of sewage and potablility was actually not yet viewed as much of a problem). Meanwhile, the royalty and nobles drank only the refined. I suppose this continues today in different forms.
Before I came, I certainly wondered why I had never heard of Eggenberg. Formally established in 1560 (the Plymouth colony a cool 60 years off), the brewery boasts of its historic importance to Český Krumlov. I am uninformed without a proper tour, but I think production capacity has something to do with it. The more plausable explanation is that there really is nothing remarkable about it and it's probably not easy to compete in the Pilsner Mecca of the world. I have also noticed that dominant beer brands are very particular to regions, even in a country this small.
On to the dark. Černý, Czech for "black" beer is something of an anomaly here. You have Bernard, Kozel, and Staropramen and others, but such are exceptions to the norm. First sip: the Eggenberg black lager is more on the smooth side than those mentioned. Pleasantly, it doesn't have the burnt-malt taste I've noticed in the others. The grain roasting is key to the styling of the beer, the deeper the roast, the darker the beer. Some brewers overdo it (intentionally perhaps to bring out smoky notes) but Eggenberg is more to my liking. Good stuff.
Now that you've grown tired of my blabbing about beer, I'll allow the pictures to speak for themselves. I spent the day of the day just wandering (and making pit-stops of course). It was fantastic.
This post is a tribute to Leitrim, Ireland's finest photographer, my man, the one, the only, Domnhall Shamus Patrick Heron. Borrowing some of my favorites from his Picasa web album, you can get a more complete (and perhaps skillful) visual account. View the complete albums for yourself here.
A return to Zeravice, CZ. Trisha, Peter, and their beautiful ruin. "I'm your host, Keith Richard. Welcome to this edition of Czech Castles in the Misty Rain." Zen master D. Seamlessly blending in with the locals...
Action shot to the max. Note the baby basket; not helping the struggle. Can't emphasis the serene beauty out there enough. HOPS
On to Budapest! Hero Square. We rest; Domnhall Heron's photography never rests.
I think the people at Lonely Planet guides will forgive me for borrowing some from their overview of Czech beer, and its central importance in the culture.
"Czech beer is so famous it needs little introduction...the superlative taste of their pivo is one reason Czechs drink more per head than any other nation."
Czechs destroy competition in beer consumption, slamming 166 liters (293 16-oz. pints) for each and every man, woman and child of the population annually. Germany comes in a distant second at 144 liters (253 pints).
The superior quality of the beer is difficult to explain without experience. How do you define quality? You just know it when you taste it. It's clean, it's balanced, and you feel pretty great the next day.
The beer quality here is attributable to a few measures taken: first, the Czechs have something of their own Reinheitsgebot(German purity law) that allows for strictly water, hops, yeast and barley to be used in the brewing process. No rice derivatives, no adjuncts, just beer. Think about it America.
Storage is also a huge factor. The beer you find at a factory is always superior due to its freshness. It is such a fragile thing, its taste can be distorted by even the slightest handling and transportation. Domestics dominate practically 95% of the market so beer doesn't have to move far in a country that is slightly smaller than the state of South Carolina. It really makes a difference.
Even so, led largely by the Pilsner Urquell company, pubs have recently come up with a remarkable solution: the tankovna, which are large specially designed vertical storage tanks that keep unpasteurized beer fresh and especially flavorsome, and eliminate taste-distorting kegs and taps from the equation.
Habits.
Stroll by some pubs at 10:00am on a weekday, and don't be surprised to see dudes working on their second half-liter of the day. There's a joint around the corner from my flat that I wandered into because I saw a sign outside advertising 19-crown Kozel svelty (one of my preferred choices - though you can't really go wrong with any brand). It was around 11:30am on a Wednesday, and the place was packed. I almost immediately regretted going in, because heads turned in the smoke-filled hall next to the bar.
Imagine a dozen or so Czech equivalents of Billy-Bob the mechanic/construction dude shooting you a "I knows yer ain't from round' her, boy" look. I contemplated backing out slowly while at the same time I thought about but failed to spit out: "prosim, pivo...dj'equi" (beer please, thanks). Though I was just slack-jawed staring at the tap, the tender knew what I needed and put a cold one in front of me. I calmly sat at a table covered in grease, dirt, and cigarette ash. All the comforts of blue collar Praha. Awkwardly, I took out a book and drank fast.
Standard fare
Your standard draft at a restaurant or bar comes in .5liter mugs (roughly 17 ounces), and as previous mentioned runs around 19-40kc ($1-$2) depending on the joint. I'm now in the habit of sticking my nose up at prices over $2, something I may have to work on in preparation for life anywhere else in the world...
To be honest, the differences between styles and brands here are few. 99.9% of beer are light lagers/pilsners ranging from 10-12 degrees (4-5% ABV). I'll do my best to distinguish them for you in the next post (see list below). There are a few cerny (dark) varieties, but you often have to really look for them.
TOUR DE STAROPRAMEN Forgive me if after my first beer factory tour in the Czech Republic, I believe the Staropramen brewery will be tough to top. Showing up 10 minutes early paid off. I thought Staropramen would be appropriate to start with as the #2 domestic producer and one of the few actually located in Prague. Originally I walked in around 2pm and said my "dobry den" to the woman at the counter. The problem with politely using their greeting is they sometimes take this to mean you speak Czech. So I waited for her to finish before I asked if she spoke English. She told me that the next English tour would not be until 3pm, so I decided to go sit on a tram stop bench around the corner and read. I shuffled back over around ten of.
This time the woman was gone, and there was a dude behind the bar on the other side of the divider in the room, chatting with a girl. He again spoke Czech to me and I asked about the tour. For some reason he had a quizzical look on his face, but then assured me I could go along no problem. I didn't know what this meant at the time. I didn't have a moment to really think about it because he then offered me a beer. Though usually reserved for the completion of the tour, my arm, as always, needed no twisting. I learned that the girl was in fact a friend of the guide. Her name was Judith from outside Frankfurt, Germany. Her parents are Czech and she had studied in Prague the previous year.
Soon a group assembled on the other side of the divider, and Tomas (toe-maa-sh - very Czech) the tour guide led us into a room to watch a short film about the history and tradition of Staropramen. These brew tours are already starting to look pretty similar.
Despite Tomas' best effort to engage during the tour, the group could not have cared less, paying little attention and having their own loud conversations. We soon realized they were all a bunch of Slovenians together on a school trip. I mean I would understand if they were restless at a pottery museum, but come on. Overall though, they're alright in my book. I now think I know why Tomas gave me a look, but let me "tag along." It's possible the Slovenians paid a group rate of sorts and Tomas just let me slip in, because I later learned that although I didn't pay anything, the tour was not free, it cost 150 crowns. Thanks Slovenia. 11-meter wide vat, one of the largest, most modern machines in European beer production. Bottling-production line. Fermentation vats. To demonstrate their capacity, Tomas asked us how many beers we could drink in a night. Someone said "ten," he told us that if you were to drink 10 every night, it would take around 140 years to finish a vat. Yikes.
With the completion of the tour came the tasting, which had less built-up anticipation that I'm used to since I'd already had a preview. Tomas made it clear to Judith and I that while the Slovenians and all guests of the brewery get one beer at the end, we were free to as many we liked. I found this very pleasing.
Once the Slovenians made their way out, Tomas, Judith and I hung around the bar while the next tour group assembled. Tomas had one more tour for the day, and Judith was waiting up for him to get off work. He suggested we just wait there and as he left to lead the next group through, he muttered something to Judith in German. She told me that he said we were free to self-service at the bar. WHAT
So there I found myself, alone with a rather pleasant German gal commanding unlimited reign over the taps of the Staropramen brewery. Yes, indeed. By the time the tour came back around, Judith and I were feeling pretty good. Tomas ditched our plastic cups and started grabbing the beautiful glassware on sale behind the bar and pouring for us into those. Naturally, the group had to have been wondering who are they, and why do they get those? As I said, it pays to show up 10 minutes early.
Volume two preview:
An overview of brands and their varieties
Pilsner Urquell Staropramen Gambrinus Kozel Budvar Budweiser Bernard
A review of local microbrew-pubs
Novomestky pivovar Pivovar U Bulovky Pivovarsky dum U Fleku U Medvidku
With only ten days left in Prague, there are many things I would like to do. I've composed a list of tours/museums/restaurants I want to hit and from these, hopefully you'll be treated to more Czechisms of note and what I've learned about their art, food, and of course, beer.
While I fit in what I can, may I suggest a blog about teaching English in Japan by my dear friend Brian Peckrill. Click here to check it out. You may remember Brian as the host of my trip to Copenhagen (I'll even throw in a link to it as well if you care to refer back). I have to defer all credit to Brian for the idea to teach abroad in the first place. I trust you'll find his blog plenty entertaining.
Okay, so I understand that I fell off the radar with everyone for a while there. Allow me to explain.
The last few weeks I have been looking for jobs, but unfortunately, things haven't been going quite how I hoped. Long story short, a few jobs fell through and with my visa closer to expiration by the day, finding legal employment in the Czech Republic looks unlikely. I think Uncle G will forgive my recycling to explain further:
Basically you get 90 days after entry to file for a work visa, and the application takes around 30 days to prepare (sometimes longer, as I've found out). As September 5th marks 60 days, I'm in a bit of a bind. Taking the course sapped 30 days and then the interviewing process took around 3 weeks. I had been frantically searching for openings at schools that would be willing to give me a shot at this point, but nothing promising came along until a few days ago.
I got referred by a TEFL Worldwide employee to a school that has an opening. The catch is that I probably wouldn't be able to get the visa through in time, meaning I would have to work illegally. At many schools, this is not a problem, and perhaps a third or more of the teachers here in Prague have no visa and work illegally. This comes with downsides: a) it is impossible to leave the country, as you would be refused re-entry if your passport were to be checked by an authority; b) you pay taxes that you never recover; c) you have no health insurance; d) you risk deportation at any moment, once they track you, immigration police come to your door and inform you that you have 3 days to leave the country.
Many people get away with this and live fine with it. I weighed my options, and decided that perhaps a big ol' plan B operation may be in order.
I recently got in contact with a recruiter in Korea that found a job for a friend of mine here and can help place me just about wherever I prefer at better-than-average wages (an option that I didn't really have without my certificate when I was looking before). The salaries are more than double over there (~$2,500+), they pay for your plane fare to and from AND they provide single-apartment housing with utilities. I hear cost of living is low, so there is a possibility of being able to save around a few G's a month. Compared to Prague where my housing taps nearly half my 20,000 crown ($1,000USD) salary, leaving little left over for spending let alone paying my loans, it seems like a practical choice. I was agreeable to going there before and I still am. At the moment, I have two friends from UMass in Korea, and this morning I spoke with Domhnall on Skype (he's in Tokyo, Japan at the moment) and with the Japanese job situation not exactly what he hoped, he may be heading to Korea as well.
SO. Last night I booked a flight back to Boston, as I need to return to the U.S. to get visa paperwork/consulate interviews for Korea in order. My plan is to regroup, make a necessary preparations, and hopefully land a job sometime in late September/early October. I will have a job, an apartment, and a plane ticket handed to me by an employer and I'll be off.
My thoughts are that the culture shock that awaits in Asia will make for some good material. I'm excited. And if anyone has concerns about North Korean dictator Kim Jong Ill and his bottle-rocket experiments, rest assured, teenage boys have posed more serious threats to national security.
Having refined our Euro-bicycling skills in Moravia, Domnhall and I thought a bike tour of Budapest would be in order. I favor this style of tour to any other, not only for the exercise and the freedom, but also for the thrill of narrowly avoiding death by urban traffic. One of our first stops along the tour: the Budapest Opera House. When it was constructed during the 1890s, it was the most modern opera house in Europe. I think that held up for a decade or so. Bravo, Hungary. I think this picture sums up the state of Budapest at the moment, particularly when compared to Prague. It is very much in a state of renovation and rebuilding. You can find scaffolding like this all over, some of resting against buildings that have not been touched in years. Maybe give it another 10-15 years and it will rival other European cities. It's just not quite there yet. One of the more frightening attractions: the former headquarters of the Hungarian Secret Police. Our guide informed us that over 4,000 people may have been killed here during the Soviet period, many using torture instruments similar to medieval torture devices. As much as I am against torture in all forms (unless perpetrated by Jack Bauer on 24) I think contemplating what went on in that building really puts the water boarding controversy/extreme interrogation techniques into a new perspective. Lorand, our trusty guide kept us informed. Me in Hero Square rocking my UMass tee. Go U. I wonder how many locals read it as "UM...ASS." Artsy flower shot. Inevitably, our tour made a pit stop at a local beer garden. This is me and György (I'm guessing on the name, I had a hard time understanding). We exchanged stories about beer and he tried to educate me about Hungarian drinking. I told him stories of the great brewer-patriot Samuel Adams. Apparently, he used to live in Germany, in the center of one of the leading beer producing regions. For one reason or another, at the time he only really drank cheap wine. When he relocated to Hungary, historically a wine-producing country, he switched to cheap beer. In limited English, we contemplated and discussed the irony. We capped it at two to ensure safe (and comfortable) riding. The next leg of the tour brought us up the hill that leads to the palace and old district. A view from the top - note Parliament (tallest dome surrounded by spires) to my left. It ranks #2 behind the British Parliament in size. A look back to the Széchenyi Chain Bridge we crossed. These views are from the Buda side, facing Pest (they were once considered two separate cities divided by the Danube). A grand Gothic cathedral obscured by scaffolding. So it goes.
After the tour, we made our way to some Turkish baths - an incredibly relaxing experience after pedaling around on those bikes all day (the tour lasted 4 hours). If you're not phased by old naked dudes trudging around, I recommend it. The Danube at sunset, having emerged from the baths. A little nightlife action... ...results in hangover city. One last pic of the side of the Parliament. It was too big to get a complete shot of it from any angle. That's big.
A scene from the Royal Gardens next to the castle.
