Quote of the Day - I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.
This post is the fifth and last in MIPTC's travel series to Prague, which started on April 5, if you're interested in reading from the beginning. Otherwise, jump in and travel along in this continuing day, from here to part five, below. Then it continues further on to separate preceding days back to April 5th.
Before the masquerade ball this evening, we need to run a few errands to pick up ribbon as an accoutrement for our costumes. Lisa will be dressed as a consort to Queen Elizabeth (that's the one in the 15th century, if you're wondering). I'm dressing as Lord somebody or other, and we've both got loose crosses that need something to suspend them around our necks. So, now that we know Prague like natives, we're off to Tesco Supermarket for the ribbon.
First things first, you know. Forget sightseeing. There are more important things in life to attend to.
This store has it all: from groceries to gabardine, and everything in between. It's got a section on hardware bits and pieces and automotive parts - even racy lingerie. What more could a man want?
Tesco's got every type of ribbon -- in several different colors, sizes and even with silver and gold threaded in it. We choose the purple and red to go with my regal costume. That's Regal with a capital "R," mind you, so we have to choose Royal (also with a capital "R") colors. Lisa's five-layer dress is moss green, gold and black, and is already stunning so there's not much more to add to it to make it more Royal (see how I remain consistent with the capitalization?). Or so I'm told, in yet another lesson toward my fashion consciousness.
Most color coordination of clothes is lost on me, as it is on most men. At least guys who are color blind have an excuse, as the lawyer sitting next to me as I write this post on the plane does. It's my former partner, Dan Callahan, who has his clothes numbered in a book to tell him what that his light blue shirt number 10 goes with what his bright green pants number 24 and his orange rep tie number 3, and so forth.
See what I mean? I've read his book and I still can't get it straight.
I, as I've pointed out, am not so lucky. I'm not color blind and therefore have no ready excuse. Without something like Dan's book to guide me, if left to my own devices, I'd suffer the scorn of those who frequently critique my questionable ability to match just about anything in my closet with anything else in my closet. Like most nobles, however, I'm glad to have someone dress me in the morning before I commit a fashion faux pas, and suffer the ignominy of one more citation and arrest by the fashion police as I try to walk out the door with my own concoction of mix-and-match clothes.
But I'm getting distracted.
We're finished at Tesco, which I've now learned is Prague's answer to Sears, Woolworth's, Sam's Club, Home Depot, Napa Auto Parts and Frederick's of Hollywood, all wrapped up in one store. What to do next? There's the Secret Society building to see, Mucha's Art nouveau Museum, the Powder Gate, innumerable churches and a couple of castles to see. Plus, I want to ride the underground to see what it's like. We've figured out for the most part how the highly efficient trolley system works. Most tourist maps of the city have red lines to depict where the trolleys run, superimposed with red numbers to identify the line. At each stop (readily identifiable by people milling about, constantly waiting for a trolley to arrive every eight minutes, thank you very much), there is a small paper-behind-glass list that coherently explains the schedule in a x/y format of military time and minutes after/before each hour.