Cousins Blog: Final day and return flight

The propellers turn really fast, but why so long between starting the right and then the left engine? Why so much vibration? Where was the flight attendant? How come no door to the cockpit? I mean, you can just look right in and see the pilot and copilot use a flashlight to read papers on a clipboard. It really felt like a metal tube because the inside of this plane was a metal tube. There were no off-white swooping plastic walls with locking overhead bins and indirect fluorescent lighting, nope, just a grey metal tube with some lights and small oval windows.

Other than a few dips and weaves, this final leg from Boston to Albany was happily uneventful. Home at last. Stacy picked me up at the airport, we stopped for some dinner, and then the collapse into my own sweet bed.

The last morning in Prague was rainy, dreary, and cold. I took my umbrella and bundled up, closed the trusty tourist guide, and set out on the tram in the direction away from downtown Prague to an unknown destination.

I hopped off at a village after rolling through blocks

of soviet era apartment buildings. The main street was filled with the usual shops and held no surprises, but I felt like I was where an American tourist was seldom seen. I took a side street and quickly got lost, but luckily found my way by following the tram tracks.

I stopped in a covered ramshackle market place where I bought an apple for lunch and strolled about the stalls of cheesy clothing sold by Asian proprietors. Then the tram back to meet Ben for our last afternoon of sightseeing and dinner.

Ben and I took another tram for Vysehrad, a park on a high plateau with views of Prague. As we entered, we passed the infamous "suicide bridge," a soviet highway structure that is a convenient jumping off point for those who can't stand another dreary minute of Czech winter or one more doughy dumpling.

By the time we returned for dinner, we were cold, wet, and hungry.