Prague really is a magnificent city. Dark spires scream of the gothic and the flowing lines of a concert hall hint toward musty champagne and Art Nouveau. Medieval castles rub shoulders with communist scars and everything glints in an aging European glory . However, even Prague can be sidelined when Bruce Springsteen is swinging by. In fact, Hattie and I spent the second day of our visit waiting outside a football stadium, on the edge of town, sun bearing down on our shoulders as we waited to see the Boss. It’s been seven long months since Hattie first gave me a heads up about the concerty. I remember answering my phone as I darted through icy rain to a lecture. “Bruce is playing in Prague, we have to go!” I agreed of course…anything to brighten up an afternoon of lectures. July had never seemed so far away on that bleak winter’s day. But then Christmas came, and after that Easter with its burden of looming exams. Before I knew it I was joining Read More
Like a prodigal daughter I’ve returned home, spent and spoilt by my travels. I’ve slotted back into Bungay life in the usual way: initial joy at unlimited internet access and my own bed and then restlessness as the itch returns to my toes and I feel the urge to pack my suitcase and leg it to Stansted again. Although this time I have nowhere to go. So instead I’m trying to reflect on the past whirlwind six weeks and choose a direction to take for this summer. It’s all very deep for the sake of two months, but if I want to hail down a plane again I need to earn some money. Anything to prevent my decline into Jeremy-Kyle-watching-slobbiness. So I better go back to the beginning of my adventures – to the place where really, ‘italian inspiration’ found its inspiration – to Venice. Looking back on those 24 days, all I can think about is colour. I’d never really noticed the colours of Venice before. it had always seemed like a ripple of algae Read More
I’m alive! Just wanted to throw that one out there in case anyone was wondering. I’ve managed to escape drowning in a Venetian canal, being mowed down by unruly cyclists in Amsterdam and fingers crossed, I’ll avoid being crushed by demented Bruce Springsteen fans when I head to Prague tomorrow to see The Boss himself. In other words, I’ve been celebrating the end of exams by running away from everything for a while. I’ll be back soon though, fat from too many double fried fries and ready to tell you all about it, now however, bag packing awaits! So I’ll leave you with a pic of said chips, because I mean, how could I not?