It was a cold, foggy morning in Prague,
we left Miss Sophie's
and trundled to the metro, making sure
we had just enough Czech crowns left for metro and bus ride
to the airport
When we got on the bus though, we were told we had to buy
another ticket, with no Czech currency left
I shot the B an evil look
(because it's never my fault) and asked
the couple in front if they might exchange some money
with us for the various other currencies that we had,
they gave us 60 Crown (1.5 pounds) and wouldn't except
Pounds, Dollars or Euros in return
The kindness of strangers, floors you every time
Only later did I find the 200 Crown in my jacket pocket.
Once at the airport I sat on my luggage and watched the
screens for our check-in desk to open
this is something you have to be vigilant about because
as soon as it opens there's this mad stampede towards it
and the line can wend around for quite some length
Lucky, observant me spotted the two Easyjet employees
walking to the desk, tell-tale corners of the orange stickers
flapping out of their folders
(thank god Daddy drummed 'Be more observant!' into me)
First in line! (felt very much like the Chinese tourist,
but at least I didn't bring a picnic breakfast)
"Wow, how did you know it was them, and where to go?"
said B
"I'm just really smart," said I
The B craved a 'hot breakfast'
(even though I explained that people hardly
ever do hot breakfasts in Europe)
we combed the airport anyway, and found a
serving counter that had scrambled eggs and sausages.
"But look!" Said I, "They have schnitzel, they have goulash
9 days here and we have had neither!"
"Well then, get some,what's schnitzel anyway?" came the unaffected reply
"Okay, we'll have eggs, sausages and schnitzel now,
then take the goulash on the plane,"
"How are we going to eat goulash on the plane?"
"We'll manage."
2 hours later, the whole row of us, we're giggling
like schoolgirls, trying to use plastic coffee stirrers
as chopsticks
as the B held goulash container almost full with gravy
aloft trying not to spill.
Turbulence can be a real bitch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stansted Airport. Take a book if you're going.
Immigration queues snake, slow on the move
Its packed back-to-back
arab families are sitting on mats on the floor
eating with fingers.
I am shaking as I approach the turban-ed immigration officer
(not because I am an illegal,
but because of the last horrific immigration experience
with the crabby bitch who's husband probably left her for
a young asian woman)
he looks through my documents
nods slightly, asks this and that
and I am through!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They are having a house party, the Talls and their friends;
we frantically dash about Tesco looking
for chips, dips and what not
My cousin stuffs hardboiled eggs
I taste the filling, "What? Just yolk and mayo, no onion?"
I bitch, "garnish with gherkins!"
Later she will tell everyone that the gherkins were
my idea, and they will compliment me as they should.
As we move around the kitchen, the boys
sneakily try and steal food behind our backs, and get caught
and more boys arrive, big strapping rugby players
lugging crates of Heineken, Coke and Magners
The fridge is filled to the brim
then a gigantic bucket on the floor
then the night begins to fast-forward
We play the new Taboo, two people play the piano
one a proper pianist, the other uses their crotch
someone else brings champagne
we munch- pistachios, loaded potato-skins
doritos, crudites with hummus, sourcream, salsa
cocktail sausages
5 guys sit on the gay guy
I fall asleep and am shaken awake at countdown
rushing out on the street last as the fireworks start
shots of absinthe that I duck away from
Catch the Sugar Cube with your mouth competitions
Now the boys are snorting port
one Tall falls asleep, the other sways to music in the living room
we play the -stick-the-card-on-your-forehead game
we play the slapping game
We laugh and hoot and curse and dance.
And then, everyone is gone.
And the house is an absolute mess.
And that was New Year's Eve.
I wake up on New Year's day and cook us all
some good, hangover helping
maggi curry mee with sausages, eggs and chinese leaves.
we left Miss Sophie's
and trundled to the metro, making sure
we had just enough Czech crowns left for metro and bus ride
to the airport
When we got on the bus though, we were told we had to buy
another ticket, with no Czech currency left
I shot the B an evil look
(because it's never my fault) and asked
the couple in front if they might exchange some money
with us for the various other currencies that we had,
they gave us 60 Crown (1.5 pounds) and wouldn't except
Pounds, Dollars or Euros in return
The kindness of strangers, floors you every time
Only later did I find the 200 Crown in my jacket pocket.
Once at the airport I sat on my luggage and watched the
screens for our check-in desk to open
this is something you have to be vigilant about because
as soon as it opens there's this mad stampede towards it
and the line can wend around for quite some length
Lucky, observant me spotted the two Easyjet employees
walking to the desk, tell-tale corners of the orange stickers
flapping out of their folders
(thank god Daddy drummed 'Be more observant!' into me)
First in line! (felt very much like the Chinese tourist,
but at least I didn't bring a picnic breakfast)
"Wow, how did you know it was them, and where to go?"
said B
"I'm just really smart," said I
The B craved a 'hot breakfast'
(even though I explained that people hardly
ever do hot breakfasts in Europe)
we combed the airport anyway, and found a
serving counter that had scrambled eggs and sausages.
"But look!" Said I, "They have schnitzel, they have goulash
9 days here and we have had neither!"
"Well then, get some,what's schnitzel anyway?" came the unaffected reply
"Okay, we'll have eggs, sausages and schnitzel now,
then take the goulash on the plane,"
"How are we going to eat goulash on the plane?"
"We'll manage."
2 hours later, the whole row of us, we're giggling
like schoolgirls, trying to use plastic coffee stirrers
as chopsticks
as the B held goulash container almost full with gravy
aloft trying not to spill.
Turbulence can be a real bitch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stansted Airport. Take a book if you're going.
Immigration queues snake, slow on the move
Its packed back-to-back
arab families are sitting on mats on the floor
eating with fingers.
I am shaking as I approach the turban-ed immigration officer
(not because I am an illegal,
but because of the last horrific immigration experience
with the crabby bitch who's husband probably left her for
a young asian woman)
he looks through my documents
nods slightly, asks this and that
and I am through!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They are having a house party, the Talls and their friends;
we frantically dash about Tesco looking
for chips, dips and what not
My cousin stuffs hardboiled eggs
I taste the filling, "What? Just yolk and mayo, no onion?"
I bitch, "garnish with gherkins!"
Later she will tell everyone that the gherkins were
my idea, and they will compliment me as they should.
As we move around the kitchen, the boys
sneakily try and steal food behind our backs, and get caught
and more boys arrive, big strapping rugby players
lugging crates of Heineken, Coke and Magners
The fridge is filled to the brim
then a gigantic bucket on the floor
then the night begins to fast-forward
We play the new Taboo, two people play the piano
one a proper pianist, the other uses their crotch
someone else brings champagne
we munch- pistachios, loaded potato-skins
doritos, crudites with hummus, sourcream, salsa
cocktail sausages
5 guys sit on the gay guy
I fall asleep and am shaken awake at countdown
rushing out on the street last as the fireworks start
shots of absinthe that I duck away from
Catch the Sugar Cube with your mouth competitions
Now the boys are snorting port
one Tall falls asleep, the other sways to music in the living room
we play the -stick-the-card-on-your-forehead game
we play the slapping game
We laugh and hoot and curse and dance.
And then, everyone is gone.
And the house is an absolute mess.
And that was New Year's Eve.
I wake up on New Year's day and cook us all
some good, hangover helping
maggi curry mee with sausages, eggs and chinese leaves.
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