Perils of Exploration - Zizka Style

38 Days In, 73 Days Out

The weather forecast this morning promised rain. It doesn't look like rain, I thought before meeting with my team for class. Still doesn't look like rain, I thought after my meeting with my team for class. I'll go to the Zizka statue!

Poor choice. My confidence in ability to get to places armed with only a destination and a map brought me crashing down in my quest to reach the Zizka statue on top of Vitkov Hill. Vitkov Hill is off to the east of Prague proper, in the neighborhood of Zizkov. (Zizka, Vitkov, Zizkov, yes I know--very confusing) I never go there. Google maps told me I could take the 5 tram out there. My Prague map told me all I had to from there was walk north. And so I went.

For some inane reason, I didn't confirm my disembarking tram stop before leaving. I knew that the street to watch for was Seifertova. I think Seifert was someone important in Czech history, like an author. When they name a street after the person, I guess they add "ova." It's got to be feminine--"a" on the end--because it's modifying "street," which in Czech is feminine. Anyway, I missed the tram stop. I discovered this not long after missing it, so that wasn't the worst part. I managed to get back on track just a few minutes of walking later.

No, I reach the bottom of this crazy hill (I read today that Prague is the city of seven hills, which would be the first time I've ever heard that), and I see no way up. As in, no paths. Usually, if Google Maps doesn't tell you there's a road there, there's at least a dirt path of some sort. But no, the only road I see going forward consists of a pedestrian tunnel, going underneath the hill. I want UP, damn it. Is that so much to ask for?

No problemo. Thinking there's gotta be some path up this hill, I head left along the base of the hill (great giant mount of earth). The statue of Zizka sticks up above the trees at the top, mocking me as I search for some way to climb the stinkin' hill. I don't believe I've described the statue yet--It's Jan Zizka (everyone's name here is Jan), sitting astride a horse. It's the biggest equestrian statue in the world. You can see it from almost any semi-elevated vantage point in Prague, including the 12 tram on my way home after class.

Maybe five minutes of walking later, it comes to my attention that this is a very bad idea. The present neighborhood is, well, of the kind that you keep looking over your shoulder to make sure no one's tailing you, while attempting to not look like you're looking over your shoulder so as not to seem conspicuously out-of-place. And, by this time, lost. It was about when I passed the guy walking in the other direction, casually holding a knife, that I thought, screw the Zizka statue, get me the heck out of here.

I have a really bad habit of getting into bad neighborhoods by myself.

There's a bus stop ahead, and thankfully I reach the safety of its old-women-surrounded confines. Amazingly, the 133 bus will take me straight back to Staromestska, which is about as close as you can get by bus or tram to the NYU center. Then, the bus rolls up. It's full. I wait to see if I can stuff inside the front door, when the bus driver CLOSES THE DOOR IN MY FACE. That does not happen on the Duke C-1. Furious, I jump back to the next door and dart in, alarming some old Czech men, while the doors close on my heels. It's my first time on a Prague public bus. I don't care. I'm happy to be getting out of there.

As the 133 rounds a turn to the right (swinging me dangerously close to falling on top of said old man--I'm standing on the steps, also a new experience since you can't do that on Duke buses..) I see massive staircases going up the side of the hill, on the extreme western end. %^&*^. I'm in no mood to get off and climb them, however. Maybe a different day. Then again, maybe never. Zizka's enticing, but next time I might just opt for the TV Tower and David Cerny's baby sculptures.

Felicia apologizes that she has no photos to document her experience today. She was busy looking for a way up Vitkov Hill, while trying not to get mugged. More trying not to get mugged than anything else. She feels that photographing would have been highly counteractive to that aim.