Well, our Saturday tour was an out of town excursion – we hired a car and a guide to take us to Kunda Hora, home of the famous Bone Church. Our guide, Marek, was a charming and talkative local, who not long after our car left Prague, informed me that he had spent and entire summer working in Provincetown, MA.
Oh, really.
By the end of the tour, I had a phone number and a promise to show me a different side of Prague.
That night, after dinner, I bid my family farewell and ventured our to find Marek and some of the nightlife in this city. I managed, all on my own, to find a small door on the other side of town with a sign labeled “21″ over it. I made my way into the building, and found Marek, Piera, and The American. Marek had assembled us – a small group of travelers to enjoy a night out together.
Piera was good looking, charming, from Italy by way of the UK. The American (who was also visiting from the UK), pretty quickly got on my bad side. He had clearly never been told that it’s rude to touch people who do not want you to touch them. I spent the rest of the evening removing his hands from my arms, back, side, etc. Marek was his usual charming self – regaling our group with stories of my family from that day.
He asked me “You MUST have found our agency and insisted your mother book with us, no?”
“No,” I replied. “Mom did everything on her own. She had a recommendation for your agency and booked it all herself.”
“Amazing.” Marek replied. “She must not have known that our agency is THE gay tour agency in Prague! We cater specifically to groups of gay men, often those who want to see the seedier side of the city. We were rather surprised that we had a whitebread American family to show around, but money is money!”
Leave it to MY mother to find the Gay Tourism Center on accident.
After have a drink at 21 Bar, we made our way to a small dance club. I have NO idea what the name was, but it was packed with mostly local boys. (And yes, there were more than a few that looked like they could appear in an upcoming Bel Ami feature!) Piera, Marek and I danced our asses off, did shots, and watched the local boys all sing along to Mariah Carey with gusto. Piera proved especially popular, and had more than one local boy following him around with puppydog eyes.
After a couple of hours on the dance floor, I bid my new friends farewell, and managed to find a cab driver who spoke enough German to understand me. I got back to the apartment, snuck in without waking anyone, and hit the hay.
And now it’s our last day in Prague. We heard an amazing organ recital at one of the billions of churches in the city, and then had a lazy afternoon. We fly to Copenhagen tomorrow!
2 responses so far ↓
1 Jeff Matisoff // Jul 7, 2008 at 11:33 am
LOL I’ve heard of calling you “your mother’s son” but can we call your mother “her son’s mom”?
2 SG // Jul 9, 2008 at 12:48 pm
OMG, this is a great story, but the best is at the end. Did you go to the recital at the church at the foot of the Charles Bridge? I did while I was there. When I heard some seemingly very common pieces performed on that instrument I realized that 1. I’ve never really known those pieces, and 2. music was really written for THOSE (read: non-American) instruments.
BTW, did the guys in the bar have elbows?
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