Georgia, no not the country

First things first; I’m in Prague, with a roof over my head and I’m safe. After settling into a small middle seat for the flight, I starting talking with the gentleman to my right. He asked me the common conversation starter, “Where are you from?” I responded by stating that I grew up in Georgia. I thought that since we were leaving Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, that he would know that I meant the state… you know inside of America. He then started speaking to me in what I can only guess to be a Slavic language. After explaining the him that I was not from eastern Europe, we jumped into the rest of a normal getting to know you conversation in English this time. It was a good flight; and after I had a good laugh with the British girl on the other side after my water bottle exploded I managed to get a few hours of sleep. 

Hours after landing in London, just as I was about to fall asleep I see Scott randomly wondering around the airport. We meet up have a few good laughs and catch a the quick flight to Prague. Upon landing we go through, what some would consider to be, a rather lax form of customs.

The border guard notices that I am from Georgia (he actually got the country right) and asked if I knew Atlanta. “Coke?” Sure, Coke – Atlanta is the home of Coke I exclaim!! He mentions that he worked in Atlanta for about nine months. After chatting for a minute or two he stamps my passport and sends me on my way without asking a question.

Now I know I am not what some would call the world traveller, however getting into the Czech Republic was infinitely easier than entering Canada and the USA. In fact, I am going to bet that once I actually visit other counties, I will still feel that the Czech Republic is one of the most lax countries in the world as far as entry is concerned. Why? I don’t know, maybe Canadians don’t like Coca-Cola or maybe I just got lucky after he chewed out the Asian gentleman in front of me.

On a side note, border control officers seem to know just about every language. It’s absolutely insane and they usually can guess which one to start speaking with you. He spoke English to me before I flashed my passport. 

Once through customs we jump in a van and are driven to the place we will be residing for the next month. With rent paid and an apartment found, a nice young woman by the name of Martina offered to show Scott and myself around the town.

After finding the grocery store, subway and the phone store we head out grab a bite to eat. We locate a random eatery a few blocks away from where we are staying. After consuming a few half liters of Pilsner Urquell and eating some traditional Czech dumplings with beef, Scott and I continue questioning her about every aspect of the Czech Republic. From culture and religion, to learning a little about the Velvet Revolution and where to find the local climbing gym or swimming pool. It was great, and about two hours later and tasting the local plum brandy called Slivovitz, we called it a night and ended our first evening in Prague.