Travel Philosophy   Many people who like to travel keep on going to newer and newer places, round and round the world. We tried that with South America, and it was fine, but I'm glad to be back in our old stomping grounds, which have always been Europe and US/Canada. Every time we go to San Francisco, Boston, Washington, there is change, or something interesting new to do, and equally so now in Europe.

There are two travel philosophies dealing with change, and I ascribe to both of them. Take the first as a warning, and the second becomes a delight.

First, Thomas Wolfe famously said that you can't go home again. In travel, if you try to go "home" again, the people will be different, the places will have changed. However, you can always enjoy the poignancy of the experience.

But why go to, say, Vienna, time and time again? Here's why: You can't step into the same river twice. Yesterday's river is already downstream. Accept that, which is essentially what Wolfe is saying. Enjoy today's river, and come back again for tomorrow's river.

Feeling at home abroad is an enjoyable feeling, but it doesn't work everywhere, at least not for us. I feel very much at home almost anywhere in Europe, or in the US or Canada. Yet I felt like a visitor in South America. I suppose with repeated visits that could change, but that's how it is now. I'm sure it would be equally true for me in Asia.

At any rate, it's great being back in Central Europe, seeing how things are after a number of years. I feel I'm "renewing my travel credentials", and of course it's always an education. I feel I'm updating myself.

The Ghost Country: Old Austria-Hungary   I'm calling the first half of our stay this year by this name because I feel we're at the end of a long cycle, and reexamining this period gives one a new perspective.

There's the Thirty Years' War, and the Hundred Years' War. I'm not the first one to say that during the Twentieth Century we had a Seventy-Five Years' War, from 1914 to 1989, just three-quarters of the entire century. The Great War (WWI) was followed by the rise of communism, then fascism; the latter was dealt with first, by 1945 (WWII), and then the former collapsed in 1989 (Cold War). Of course there are still remnants after 1989, such as North Korea and Cuba, and Bosnia and Kosovo are connected, but by and large the cycle ended in 1989.

Now in this period there were huge changes to major players. Germany is reduced in size, but it's still Germany. Russia lost all the other "republics" due to ethnic pressures, but Russia is still Russia. Only one hugely important country involved in the Great War just disappeared, and everyone's elsewhere has seemingly forgotten about it. When Austria-Hungary was forced to break up after the Great War, each ethnic group formed such small countries there was no large country remaining, and everyone forgot about any unifying force in this area, even though the Hapsburg Empire had been around for centuries.

Put together in your mind Austria, Hungary, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia-Herzogovina; then add a huge chunk of Poland (Galicia), a huge chunk of Romania (Transsylvania), a piece of Italy (South Tyrol/Alto Adige), and you have an idea of the size of this ghost country. I contend that if you look at events in all these areas over the 75-year period as having occurred within the former borders of Old Austria-Hungary, it effects your perspective on this period.

It is also worth noting that drawing new lines didn't successfully regroup ethnicities. Hungary is the country in Europe (along with Russia) that has the most nationals living outside its borders. Austrian Germans living outside Austria in Bohemia and Moravia form the background of the Sudetenland situation. And even after 1989 Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia further broke down based on ethnicity. And in the former Yugoslavia, just look at the ethnic situation in Bosnia, where the whole conflict started in Sarajevo in 1914.

I contend there's still an underlying unity there, and for that reason describe it as a "ghost country". And, in a way, it's coming back together. We've been to Austria many times, and in our lifetimes, it was always surrounded on three sides by the Iron Curtain. We visited Czechoslovakia and Hungary under those circumstances. But now, the borders are open, as they were in 1914. Of the ten countries joining the European Union last May 1, half of them, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Slovenia, and Poland, are parts of old Austria-Hungary, the first four forming an arc around Austria, the fifth one lying just a bit beyond. The borders are open, with trains and cars crossing easily. Perhaps before long, even the passport checks will be eliminated as elsewhere in the EU. There was a big sign in Vienna saying that Austria greets its new neighbors into the EU. The architectural look of Prague and Budapest resembles Vienna. So many foods are the same. Why not? They had all been in the same country until 1914. Of the countries mentioned, only Austria uses the Euro, but don't let that misguide you. The Czech Republic still uses crowns, and Hungary uses forints. Yet in both places, hotel prices were quoted to us in Euros. Our Hertz rental in Prague was quoted in Euros. Credit card receipts in restaurants print out in local currency, with a Euro equivalent. I've had no local currency other than Euros in my pocket in Prague and Budapest. Whatever is not charged and I need cash for is payable in Euros.

In a way, Humpty-Dumpty is being put back together as part of greater European unity.

So much for my historical ramble, but it's essential to understand the unity theme in order to understand how things are different now on this visit from previous visits years ago.

The Big Hop   Travelling by ship and always arriving in Southampton, some areas are further afield, and we have to do what I always refer to as a big hop. Last year, we needed the overnight train round-trip between Paris and Roma. This year again we needed a big hop to Central Europe, then back to areas closer to Southampton. The return will be by an overnight train, but going was by easyJet.

We've crossed the Atlantic by plane many times, but I can count on one hand the times we've flown within Europe. Aside from the fact that the charges have traditionally been horrific, it's more fun going by train or car. But I'd been reading about the discount airlines Ryanair, and also about easyJet. Ryanair, out of Ireland, has been around since the '80's, the other is newer. Like Southwest, they usually go near places, rather than to them. To go from London to Brussels, Ryanair flies you to Charlroi; for Hamburg, to Lübeck. Both alternate cities are just short distances from the main cities, and the prices are quite reasonable. Sometimes Ryanair runs specials, with returns for just £5, or even free. However, it turns out that easyJet flew directly to Prague, so we went with them, booking online.

The flight leaves the London/Southampton area from Gatwick Airport, and I decided the best way to get there was to drive, so Hertz had the first of three rentals this trip all ready dockside. It was a two-hour drive, and uneventful. I got back into driving on the left without difficulty. Sitting on the right, though, still is a problem, since it was a stick shift, and at first, my right hand kept grabbing the door handle. With concentration, though, my left hand learned to find the stick.

Praha   So we started our current visit to Old Austria-Hungary in Praha, today in the Czech Republic. The name started out as Praga, which it still is in Italian, Spanish, and others. French, however, changes final A to E in many words, and the name in French is Prague. English often copies French, hence the English name. German copied French here, too, but wisely went by the pronunciation, and shortened the spelling to Prag. Although Russian uses Praga, many Slavic languages have changed G to KH or H, hence the Czech name Praha. For local color, I will interchange the local and English names.

Although we've been in Vienna many times, we were in Prague and Budapest only once each, during our 1971-2 joint sabbatical. According to Bev's travel diary we were in Prague in June 1972 and Budapest in September 1971. In those years, Austria was like a peninsula reaching out into an eastern nowhere, with barbed wire to the North, East, and South. Going behind the Iron Curtain, I remember gray cities, even gray people. It was nice enough, but the atmosphere wasn't right. This is another point about stepping into the same river twice. Today it lives up to its name of Zlatá Praha, Goldenes Prag, Golden Prague. The place just glistens. Almost everything you see has been restored. It's an A-class city again.

There are, curiously, four parts. The Vltava (English uses the German name Moldau) flows south-north through the center, then bends east. In this bend on the east bank is Staré Mesto, Old Town, where we stayed for ease in wheelchair access to walking, which we did extensively, through Josefov, the historic Jewish neighborhood with ancient synagogs and its ancient cemetary, and especially the beautiful Staromestské Námestí, Old Town Square. So much of the city is Baroque, and most of the Baroque style buildings overlay, incredibly, Gothic buildings.

Surrounding Staré Mesto on the east bank is Nové Mesto, New Town, which inclludes the well-known Václavské Námestí, Wenceslas Square, but this is really a boulevard with early-20C buildings.

Across the Vltava on the West bank is the Hrad, Prague Castle, medieval ramparts with the gothic St Vitus's cathedral rising high above it. To its side is the third neighborhood Hradčany, the Castle District, but below it is Malá Strana, the Lesser Town, which was the aristocratic district. This remains one of the nicest areas of the city.

Our hotel, which occupied several historic buildings, was on the river , but we didn't have a river view. You had to go out on the hotel terrace to see the illuminated Castle and churches across the river at night, which were extremely impressive.

We drove around much of the city, but walked through Staré Mesto. I hadn't calculated on the cobblestones, even on most of the sidewalks. If Bev had been holding a bottle of milk, we'd have ended up with a milkshake.

I was glad to note evidence of commemoration of change. The political changes had been known as the Prague Spring, and in commemoration they now have a Prague Spring Music Festival. You may remember Jan Palach, who self-immolated in protest of the occupation. Near our hotel, a major square is now Jana Palacha námestí.

I have to comment on ethnic cleansing, which is always ugly. The Germans and Czechs of Bohemia and Moravia were always in competition. The Czechs built the Czech National Theater, so the Germans built the State Opera House. This is typical of multicultural societies, such as the Flemish (Dutch) and Walloons (French) in Belgium, and the several groups in Switzerland. But can you imagine the Dutch forcing the French out of their half of Belgium, leaving a Dutch country? After WW2 that happened in the Czech Republic, where today, the only non-Czech minority is the Gypsies. Kafka, Musil, and others were German authors from Prague. The beer Pilsener Urquell, still uses its German name. Even Doktor Eisenbart is a German cultural icon. But the Germans (Austrians) are gone.

I wonder why Bohemia has a reputation as an artists' community, which is a second meaning of the name. Even Puccini named his opera about artists' lives "Bohemia", although in French: La Bohème.

The food was good. More than once we had a favorite, svíčková na smetaně, beef in cream sauce, with dumplings. We also had a lot of goulash in Prague and Vienna, typically Hungarian, but again, this food is common throughout the area of Old Austria-Hungary.

By the way, while checking out TV stations in Praha, I came across a film, dubbed in Czech, about gymnastics, and who did I see babbling away in dubbed Czech but Linda Hart, who we had gotten to know on the ship.

In retrospect of the kind of bureaucratic society these people had to live under, I'll tell the story of what happened crossing into Czechoslovakia during that sabbatical year as we were about to drive to Moscow. At the time I had one of those strip beards, just a half-inch thick connecting both sideburns around the edge of the chin. Crossing between Austria and Czechoslovakia wasn't as simple as now. You parked the car, and went into a building. The man behind the table looked at the passports, said Bev could enter the country, but I couldn't. Why? My passport picture didn't have the beard, and he "couldn't tell" if it was me. What could I do but go to the car, get my electric razor, and looking into the outside rear-view mirror, shave off the beard. On returning, voilà, he could recognize me! This is the type of pettiness people had to live with in those years. I asked him what would have happened if the picture had had the beard and I didn't. I would have had to have returned to the American Embassy in Vienna and gotten a new passport picture. What a way to run a country.

I know no Czech, but have been able to play around with it a little nevertheless. Most of this I remember from the first visit; the same with Hungarian.

Czech is Slavic, so if you know a bit of Russian, a number of words become recognizable. As to its written form, try learning this. There are long vowels and short vowels. Long ones are shown with an accent.

My menu said "coffee" is káva. Those syllables don't exactly rhyme, since one is long. It comes out KAAAva. You've seen that the word for "square" is námestí. That would be NAAAmyestiii. And Zlatá Praha is ZLAtaaa PRAha.

Medical Problem   When I say everything's set like a Swiss watch, I really know there'll be some fly in the ointment, and this is what's come up. Before we left, Bev developed a bed sore from sitting, which I was treating, and which two doctors had looked at. Yet a small black spot was in the healing area (it looked like a bruise), and was growing, so I had one of the ship's doctors look at it. It turns out it's necrotic tissue. It isn't painful, since it's dead tissue, but the doctor gave me some antibiotics, and said I should see a doctor at our first hotel stay. In Prague, one doctor cleaned it, and another checked up on it later. I have dressings to put on it, including a chlorophyll spray, which is supposed to help regenerate tissue. Bev now sits on a donut cushion.

There is one irony in this, that I keep on laughing about. There is a German folk song called "Doktor Eisenbart". It's all black humor, since he's a quack doctor whose patients don't do well. Now you know how some songs keep popping into your head. For the last year that I've been planning this trip, every time I'd think of Prague, the first line of one verse of Doktor Eisenbart would pop into my head, automatically: Zu Prag da nahm ich einem Weib.... Which tells how, in Prague, he treated a woman, without any good results.

I think it's ironic that the only European hotel where we ever had to have a doctor come, was specifically in Prague, and it wasn't for me, it was for "a woman". At least it wasn't Doktor Eisenbart.