Of Spice and Jam

I'm currently working like the proverbial thing-working-very-hard-which-I'd-think-of-if-only-my-brain-were-not-completely-cabbaged-but-whatever-it-is-it's-probably-covered-in-sweat-and-has-loads-of-other-things-standing-around-it-shouting-"Work!"-"Work harder!"-"Do more stuff!"-"Now!" So I haven't had much of an opportunity for sight-seeing of late. Unless my late-night tours of Prague metro stations counts. (Rather cool 70s effects with coloured metal, but as it's of Soviet construction I'm still looking for the "productive peasants" murals. Or would that be too much like rubbing salt into an open wound?)

Luckily, last weekend they let me out and I was able to sample the delights of the "Big Knedlik" (trad. Czech potato dumpling) for myself. As is my wont, I spurned the delights of the "In the Footsteps of the Kings" walk and "Big Bohemian Beer Tour" as a way of getting to know the various districts that make up the city centre. Instead, went for the self-patented "Look for every possible bookshop that might stock languages I read armed only with a crappy guidebook map" tour.

Fortunately along the way, I managed to stumble across several other things which are possibly of greater interest to visitors.

1. A nun in a really cool wimple of the type I have never seen before. Nuns are always a bit shocking, and more than a little spooky. Now I need to find a nun-spotter's book that helps you identify the order by the habit. Bit like the cut of a tonsure and robe tells your Franciscans from your Benedictines, y'know.

2. Cobbles. Many many cobbles. Round cobbley ones.

3. Turning a corner and come across some big-ass ancient gatehouse you weren't expecting 'cos you haven't read the guidebook yet. I like surprises.

4. Very good coffee, of the type drunk out of paper-thin porcelain cups with gold trim by fashionably elegant women of a certain age. They're the ones with immaculate coiffures who look unbelievably soignee in leopard print and big gold jewellery. Maybe it's the tailored cashmere?

5. Delis which smell gorgeously of spices and cured meat. They stock tubs of creamy salads and open-face sandwiches piled high with meat, eggs, mayonnaise and cheese like edible works of artery-fuzzing art.

6. Poppyseed stuff to eat! There is no way I'm going to pass a test for opiates after living here. Poppyseed-jam-filled pastries abound like so many abounding things. Delish… especially with no.4. If my dietary practices go according to plan, I intend to return to Blighty in a few months as one giant poppyseed.

Hungry now. Going home for tea.