Day: 18 (Tabor, CZ to Stare Mesto pod Landstejnem, CZ)
Average Speed: 15.5 (10 MPH)
Distance Cycled Today: 123.1 km (76.5 Miles)
Distance Cycled Total: 1814 km (1127 Miles)
Mood: Feelin' Good!
Last night in Tabor, we chose a hostel for the night over camping. We had planned on the latter, but it was already dark, and the roof over our head only cost us 13 bucks each.
Plus it came with a few added bonuses!
We were greeted by a rat as soon as we stepped off the elevator, I crushed a cockroach immediately after entering the room, and I learned that Jamie has a deep-rooted fear of spiders.
But perhaps the most entertaining bonus was the old fella in the room next door. When he spotted us in the common area, we had a solid ten-minute conversation.
Problem is, he didn't speak a word of English, and I don't speak a word of Czech.
There was no pantomime, and nothing of real importance to convey. He wasn't drunk either.
I guess he just wanted to talk.
I've found there are five types of people you meet when speaking English in a place where English is not really a thing:
1) The Charades Player: This is my favorite. It's so much fun for everyone. Whenever charades is involved, both parties wind up smiling. Today, I played a game with the lady behind the deli counter when I wanted some lunch meat. There were approximately 32 choices of different salami, and I wanted to know which was her favorite- here's how we got there:
Me: Dramatically gesture at entire display of salami.
Her: Dramatically gesture at entire display of salami.
Me: Point to her.
Her: Point to herself with a confused look.
Me: Rub tummy and say "Mmmmmm."
Her: Blink several times, dumbfounded.
Me: Shrug shoulders, point to her, dramatically gesture at salami, rub tummy, and say "Mmmmm!" a little louder than the last time.
Her: Blankly stare.
Me: Blankly stare back.
Her: Pick up a random salami and make a slicing motion.
Me: Thumbs up.
Repeat process for prosciutto and cheese.
She probably went home and told her husband that a perverted foreigner was crudely flirting with her, but whatever. We both laughed, and I had a damn good sandwich.
2) The Repeater: This is the one that is most common in America. When someone clearly doesn't speak our language, we tend to repeat ourselves, louder and more slowly each time. Repeaters here simply repeat, as many times as they feel necessary. However, the volume, inflection, and facial expression stay exactly the same.
3) The "Ain't Nobody Got Time for That!" Angry Person: This is the one that makes you feel a little bad about yourself. I get it. I'm an ignorant American who didn't bother to learn the basics of Czech before coming to the country. And my two years of German back in college certainly weren't a big help in Berlin. These people roll their eyes and talk badly about you to the rest of the customers in line. They throw your change at you when you purchase something. No matter how polite you are, it is clear that they hate the fact that you exist. Luckily, this character is a rarity.
4) The Shy Guys: This is probably the most common group. These are people who seem to be ashamed of themselves for not knowing the basics of English. They apologize and blush. It is likely that they've already mastered two or three other languages, but are just starting to grasp English. Perhaps their friends and/or children speak it fluently, and they feel insecure that they don't. I hate seeing a person feel uncomfortable with him/herself because he/she doesn't know a language that he/she wasn't raised with. When you meet this type, it's best to jump into pantomime and help ease the situation. Ain't a person alive who doesn't smile at a good Charlie Chaplin bit.
5) The I-Don't-Give-a-Shitters: This is a super rare group that is happy to talk in its native language and doesn't seem to care if you understand them or not. When you talk back in English, they aren't a bit nonplussed. I've met exactly three of these. The guy I mentioned before, a drunkard in Berlin last week, and a gentleman today who talked to us when heavy rain was starting... eventually he pointed at the sky, pointed at us, and held up four fingers. Then he left. Trying to crack that mystery kept us both entertained and frightened for the next few miles. It's like the cliff hanger at the end of a mini-series... FOUR WHAT? Tune in next week.
Let's go ahead and mark off another bingo square:
I guess I'm supposed to be talking about the ride today. I think that's the purpose of this blog.
Today was perfectly meh.
Mileage was low, for sure. The mountains we crossed yesterday turned into non-stop hills today, but they were brutal at times. In 52 miles, we climbed 3600 feet. To compare, yesterday was 5499 feet in 80 miles... so in other words, it was a similar degree of difficulty with just a portion of the distance.
It was mostly a day of solitude. I lagged behind and listened to some Keith Jarrett (piano jazz may add ambience, but it certainly isn't known for putting anyone into "high gear") and missed the occasional turn here and there since Jamie- well ahead of me- was navigating.
Because Google Maps does not have any bike routes for the Czech Republic, we are relying solely on a Garmin, which is a GPS device made for cyclists. A Garmin is able to track the data from a route that you cycle, and then a person is able to share their data with others... to put that plainly, we're following the route of some Random Guy who rode from Prague to Vienna.
If Random Guy got lost when he was tracking his trip, then guess what? We get lost too! If Random Guy stopped for a potty break, we stop as well! And if Random Guy visited the Colorado Saloon off the beaten path, then we say "Cheers!"
To be sure, there were some rewards today: More than a few thrilling downhills and a town where a building was painted a shade of blue. Haven't seen that color in a long, long time.
'Round here, it's beige, yellow-ish, salmon, gray, off-white, or white. Sometimes a combination of any of those.
But thems the choices.
Sherwin-Williams could save a lot of overhead in tint by moving operations to Eastern Europe.
Some sights too- I feel like the worst tourist ever because I don't bother to research the history of the stuff that I see, but when you're on a bike, you have to choose when you stop. And stopping for gelato trumps researching the castles in my book.
That's kind of it for today.
Made it to a campground.
It's raining hard now.
I'm tired.
Somewhere in the middle of writing this post, I met a Belgian cyclist named Stijn (pronounced "Stain"), and we had a wonderful hour-long conversation over a couple of beers.
In fact, If I had to pick a highlight of my day, that was it.
That's an hour I could've been sleeping, but it's an hour better spent in my opinion.
People, as always, are wonderful.
 |
| And not a motorcycle in sight... |
Plus it came with a few added bonuses!
We were greeted by a rat as soon as we stepped off the elevator, I crushed a cockroach immediately after entering the room, and I learned that Jamie has a deep-rooted fear of spiders.
But perhaps the most entertaining bonus was the old fella in the room next door. When he spotted us in the common area, we had a solid ten-minute conversation.
Problem is, he didn't speak a word of English, and I don't speak a word of Czech.
There was no pantomime, and nothing of real importance to convey. He wasn't drunk either.
I guess he just wanted to talk.
I've found there are five types of people you meet when speaking English in a place where English is not really a thing:
 |
| If a game of charades = lunch, then call me Marceau Marcel. |
Me: Dramatically gesture at entire display of salami.
Her: Dramatically gesture at entire display of salami.
Me: Point to her.
Her: Point to herself with a confused look.
Me: Rub tummy and say "Mmmmmm."
Her: Blink several times, dumbfounded.
Me: Shrug shoulders, point to her, dramatically gesture at salami, rub tummy, and say "Mmmmm!" a little louder than the last time.
 |
| I'm only missing the makeup. |
Me: Blankly stare back.
Her: Pick up a random salami and make a slicing motion.
Me: Thumbs up.
Repeat process for prosciutto and cheese.
She probably went home and told her husband that a perverted foreigner was crudely flirting with her, but whatever. We both laughed, and I had a damn good sandwich.
 |
| Ned? Ned Ryerson? |
2) The Repeater: This is the one that is most common in America. When someone clearly doesn't speak our language, we tend to repeat ourselves, louder and more slowly each time. Repeaters here simply repeat, as many times as they feel necessary. However, the volume, inflection, and facial expression stay exactly the same.
 |
| Nobody likes this guy. |
 |
| Somebody somewhere knows why I chose this image for "Shy Guy." |
4) The Shy Guys: This is probably the most common group. These are people who seem to be ashamed of themselves for not knowing the basics of English. They apologize and blush. It is likely that they've already mastered two or three other languages, but are just starting to grasp English. Perhaps their friends and/or children speak it fluently, and they feel insecure that they don't. I hate seeing a person feel uncomfortable with him/herself because he/she doesn't know a language that he/she wasn't raised with. When you meet this type, it's best to jump into pantomime and help ease the situation. Ain't a person alive who doesn't smile at a good Charlie Chaplin bit.
Let's go ahead and mark off another bingo square:
 |
| If looks could sum up a day... this is it. |
I guess I'm supposed to be talking about the ride today. I think that's the purpose of this blog.
Today was perfectly meh.
Mileage was low, for sure. The mountains we crossed yesterday turned into non-stop hills today, but they were brutal at times. In 52 miles, we climbed 3600 feet. To compare, yesterday was 5499 feet in 80 miles... so in other words, it was a similar degree of difficulty with just a portion of the distance.
It was mostly a day of solitude. I lagged behind and listened to some Keith Jarrett (piano jazz may add ambience, but it certainly isn't known for putting anyone into "high gear") and missed the occasional turn here and there since Jamie- well ahead of me- was navigating.
Because Google Maps does not have any bike routes for the Czech Republic, we are relying solely on a Garmin, which is a GPS device made for cyclists. A Garmin is able to track the data from a route that you cycle, and then a person is able to share their data with others... to put that plainly, we're following the route of some Random Guy who rode from Prague to Vienna.
 |
| Ummm... no. |
If Random Guy got lost when he was tracking his trip, then guess what? We get lost too! If Random Guy stopped for a potty break, we stop as well! And if Random Guy visited the Colorado Saloon off the beaten path, then we say "Cheers!"
 |
| CHEERS FOR THE BEER WILLIAM GERBRACHT! |
To be sure, there were some rewards today: More than a few thrilling downhills and a town where a building was painted a shade of blue. Haven't seen that color in a long, long time.
'Round here, it's beige, yellow-ish, salmon, gray, off-white, or white. Sometimes a combination of any of those.
But thems the choices.
Sherwin-Williams could save a lot of overhead in tint by moving operations to Eastern Europe.
 |
| The blue building is behind the trees. It's so wonderfully blue. You'll have to trust me. |
Some sights too- I feel like the worst tourist ever because I don't bother to research the history of the stuff that I see, but when you're on a bike, you have to choose when you stop. And stopping for gelato trumps researching the castles in my book.
 |
| This looked pretty cool... |
That's kind of it for today.
Made it to a campground.
It's raining hard now.
I'm tired.
 |
| ...and this looked cool too. |
Somewhere in the middle of writing this post, I met a Belgian cyclist named Stijn (pronounced "Stain"), and we had a wonderful hour-long conversation over a couple of beers.
In fact, If I had to pick a highlight of my day, that was it.
That's an hour I could've been sleeping, but it's an hour better spent in my opinion.
People, as always, are wonderful.
P.S.
Had to buy another jar of mustard today...
Can't afford that kind of weight on the bike
when it can be used to carry
a pilsner instead.
Did you ever find out 4 what?
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