Christmas Market Crawl

I slowly wake up on Saturday and realize I don’t have much time before getting together with my friends today. Who’s stupid idea was it to meet for the Christmas market crawl already at 16?, I think to myself, and then admit it could have been me… I woman up and despite my mind’s initial resistance, I manage to shut down my brain long enough to mechanically put some clothes on, get my ass out of the apartment, lock up behind me and head out. Uh oh… The wind is blowing mean and fierce.

I sit on the train and take stock of my situation. I’m definitely not dressed warm enough for this weather. I betcha someone will ask me if my legs aren’t cold in these tights and I’ll have to say they have a point. There’s another outfit crisis, my skirt climbs up with each step I take and I have to keep adjusting it so that my ass doesn’t stick out. It does it sometimes behind my back… My mind is full of useful observations but I gotta feeling (woohoo) that soon I’ll forget all about it.

I walk up the metro stairs at Jiřího z Poděbrad four minutes too early. Looking around, I don’t recognize anyone I know, not even the German friend who arranged it today. But next to me I spot a little wall that fences a tree and I climb up. It makes me feel taller and gives me a false impression I will have a better view. But other people have a better view of me. I can feel the looks of strangers trying to figure out why I’m standing there. “Is she some sort of a performer?” “When does the show start?” “Do we need to tip her in the end?”

I don’t like the pressure to entertain so I step down. Finally, I see a familiar face emerging from the metro station. My friend looks at me, waves at me, turns around and walks away… Did he just see me and change his mind? He’s British, so I suppose it wouldn’t be too odd… He returns with back-up who’s been hiding in the station from the cold. In a moment I’m surrounded by the whole gang.

Some of us are hungover and some of us can’t wait to get a drink. I belong to both categories. Christmas market here we come! We rush to the first stand and order a round of svařák, spiced mulled wine. Then we form a circle, appease our thirst and are rather quiet. Someone notices a piece of raw chicken meat on the ground and it becomes a hot topic for a couple of minutes. In the meantime, we empty our cups and feel accomplished. Jiřák’s conquered! Let’s count our losses (R.I.P. chicken) and proceed to Náměstí Míru.

The gang feels significantly wilder and more experimental at Mírák. Let’s try that exotic drink called Griotka! An American friend consults me. “Princess Unipony, what’s Griotka?” I get in my best judgmental mode. “You don’t want that, it’s too sweet and not very alcoholic.” But the warning comes too late for my Canadian friend, who takes one sip and exclaims, “I knew you would let me get it and then throw me under the bus!” I personally go with good ol’ Grog. Circled again, we work collaboratively on our drinks. “Yours is weak, Princess Unipony… Not much Tuzemák in there.” A Czech friend tastes the content of my cup; she knows her stuff. After considering it for a minute, I decide, “Well… not too much rum isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

It’s getting colder and bathroom emergencies are getting real. Why don’t we warm up somewhere inside… have a pint of ice cold beer?… We find a place called Blatouch, a cozy café at Americké náměstí. However the address on the menu says Soukenická. That makes it challenging for a new friend coming to join the party, ‘cause we insist that’s where we are. Luckily he’s smart enough not to trust this pack of loose criminals and he tracks us down eventually.

Multiplied and inspired by alcohol, we realize this experience is missing something. Food! We hit a sports bar that smells like sewage. Nevertheless there is place for all 365 of us… And who needs fresh air anyway?… I’m asking since the place was my idea. But let’s not get blinded by the abundance of french fries and tartar sauce and lose sight of our goal. There is still one Christmas market we have yet to invade before we wrap up the night with a karaoke party at Žižkov. The market is very close, at Tylovo náměstí. Let’s go!

The moment the door closes behind us we break into singing Wannabe by Spice Girls. Loudly, proudly, completely out of tune and with blackouts in the lyrics here and there. We compliment it with an expressive dance and though we may have been feeling cold before, now things are getting hot. And if you are wondering about my outfit crises, you have an incredible memory which I can only envy, since at this point it’s the least of my concerns if my ass is sticking out of my skirt; I’m preoccupied with a passionate philosophical discussion about the meaning of zig-a-zig ah, while we circle around another order of svařák at I.P.’s Christmas market.

When our cups are yet again empty and we’ve exhausted all arguments related to zig-a-zig ah, we stand at the top of I.P. Pavlova and weigh our options. All roads go to Žižkov… Though the one by Uber is the fastest and most convenient at the moment. The decision has been made; goodbye Christmas market! We make it to Husitská, jump out of the car,  cross the street and ring the bell next to a white door. Then we disappear in a smokey coziness where some more magic is about to happen…

Read about the hot spot in Prague for blowing-off some steam.