Waking up late Tuesday morning, I resolved to simply head home. The desk was somewhat flummoxed to see me checking out early, but I needed my medicine, so I was resolute--or desperate, take your pick. I headed down the hill to the tram. I'd picked up a couple extra transit tickets at the hospital the day before, so I was able to jump on and head towards town.
Remember yesterday, when I said I should've been looking for the metro? Well, the tram didn't head toward town. When I realized I was going the wrong way, I got off, rode back to where I figured I'd left the right path, and started reading my map more carefully. My slow realization that the tram and the metro weren't the same thing was interupted by a peal of thunder, and the skies opened up.
Lost, tired, and unmedicated, I gave up on transit and found a bartender to call me a cab. He apparently found a car service instead, but 15 minutes later I was off the street and on the way home. At least the downpour had washed some of the stink off my 4-day-old set of clothes.
At the airport I found the baggage office and asked to upgrade my delayed-bag status to lost-bag. Confused, the agent told me my bag had been delivered to the hotel the day before. Apparently nobody at the hotel or baggage office had thought I might be interested in that information. After a stunned silence, I simply stormed off, furious and hurting.
It was good news--excellent news, in fact--but for several long minutes the previous day's ordeal just crashed upon my head again. It took every self-control technique at my disposal to gather my thoughts and decide that yes, I did want to try again to enjoy a trip to Prague. A few phone calls I had hotel reservations, and I found a taxi.
The driver had enough English for me to communicate what I needed, but not nearly enough for me to explain why I wanted him to go from the airport to a cheap hotel, wait 45 seconds until I came back out with a large bag, and then continue to a nice hotel. The best I could do was grin weakly. Sharing that ridiculous moment with him and finally being able to laugh was like coming out of the water and taking a breath of clean air.
I checked into my lovely old-new hotel:
I showered and shaved and changed my clothes.
I brushed my teeth and put on deodorant.
I strode out the door, tall and confident and brave, and immediately made a beeline for the nearest restaurant, because I hadn't actually eaten anything but a Snickers bar all day.
Once I got some pork and mashed potatoes into me, I went and did a little sightseeing before diving headfirst into bed. Have a look at my pictures of the evening!