A CZECH SUMMER B&W

av Gina Tandberg

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The spontaneous travels always turn out to be the best. Like this summer, when me and my little brother decided to just leave all the organizing stuff behind for a week, packed our bags and booked train tickets to Bad Schandau. Hiking for three days, biking for two, followed by a day and a half in Prague turned out to be a great idea. Although we hadn’t even planned that much up front. Sitting in an apartment in Neukölln looking back on the pictures while wearing three layers of wool and drinking ginger tea, it feels so long ago. The heat, the wasps, the physical intensity.

But also the impressive landscapes, the tiny villages, the nannies hanging out their laundry in their underwear. The delight of finally reaching the top of a rocky hill to enjoy the view. Of drinking cold beer with the locals in the evening after hiking for eight hours. Of swimming in the ice cold stream in to chill our swollen feet in the evening. Hitch-hiking for the first time in our lives (with cute German climbers). Encountering the local scout group, whereupon my brother, to my amusement, exclaimed “you know you are far away from any civilisation when you meet the local scouts”. They actually looked more surprised to see us, than we to see them. Drinking ten litres of Dobravoda a day and stopping to pee every ten minutes. Biking along the Elbe, passing abandoned houses and factories.

Pushing a bike up a mountain in the forest with only a small path while laughing at the absurdity of spending the summer holiday pushing bikes up mountains somewhere in the Czech Republic. Then laughing at the locals staring at us when we suddenly came of out nowhere on bikes, buying fourteen litres of water at the local kiosk, where there had been no tourists since that Danish guy got lost there in -97. Eating pizza from the microwave at a brown football pub with the locals, after being to hungry and tired, we could cry, but chose to laugh at the sound of the microwave in the only place to get something to eat for miles.

Sailing down an 8 km long downhill side just as the sun set, realizing what altitudes we had actually biked up earlier that day. Laughing at my brothers two t-shirts and three boxers, which stank more and more everyday. Laughing at the ridiculous amount of sweet things in Czech super markets (“There just is no word for sugar in the Czech republic you see”). Laughing until we cried at the sign “Novly Svet”, when being so sweaty like we didn’t imagine possible. Walking around in stunning, though boiling Prague, trying to escape the tourists, the wasps, the heat, the smell of my brothers stinky t-shirts (the underwear I won’t even mention). Then stumbling upon Kafkas grave as a perfect ending of a perfect spontaneous trip.

Reklamer