Friday 30th June 2023, 09.10:
I’m getting picked up by Mr Brooks in 20 minutes and he will not tolerate tardiness (or healthy food), so I’ll make this quick – I’m off to Prague today! Myself, Tom, Adam, Sam, Lana & Sian are heading to the Czech capital for a few days for a nice city break so, naturally, I thought I’d write a blog about it. I don’t want to set you up for disappointment, but I imagine it’s going to get pretty messy, which suits me just fine. I would like to squeeze in some sightseeing and exploring if possible, but I won’t hold my breath – Tom Brooks enjoys culture in the same way he enjoys healthy food (he doesn’t).
Believe it or not, it took me ten minutes to write that paragraph. I know! I have the attention span of Tom Brooks. Right, I best stop insulting him (for now). Speak soon. H x
Friday 30th June 2023, 15.00:
We’re still at Birmingham Airport. We were supposed to depart at 13.10, but there’s a “technical fault” with the aircraft. We are meant to be flying from Birmingham to Amsterdam and then Amsterdam to Prague, but we’re now doomed to miss our connecting flight, condemned to sit in Wetherspoons for the foreseeable future, drinking extortionately priced pints and laughing at how ugly the general population are compared to us. Tom is being too loud and extremely offensive, Sam is plotting how to maximise the compensation he’s going to claim, Adam is plotting how to steal Sam’s cheesy chips, Lana & Sian are quickly trying to learn how to play Gin Rummy and I am trying not to cry.
I would love to write about how there is some deeper hidden beauty to spending time with friends in the Wetherspoons in Birmingham Airport, about how it offers a raw insight into the everyday lives of my fellow citizens, but all I can tell you is that it’s a shit hole and I’m going to sue KLM for their entire fleet of useless bastarding planes.
I need another pint. Speak soon. H x
Friday 30th June 2023. 19.20:
So, we’re finally in Amsterdam. However, we missed our connection, so I’ve stuck an apartment on the good old American Express and I’ll be claiming that puppy back when we get back to England. A free night in Amsterdam? Don’t mind if I do.
We’ve all said the same thing – we feel like we should be annoyed but we’re basically getting a free night in another city, so we can’t really moan. I believe, from our current mature discussions, that the current plan is to “get mortally fucked”. There haven’t been any objections. We get a €25 allowance each from the airline to spend on an evening meal, so we’re currently reading through the T&C’s to see if that includes alcohol (fingers crossed). The banter is flowing (by banter I mean four blokes repeatedly calling each other fat fucks) and the vibe is extremely good. It’s actually pretty cool – it feels like an adventure.
Strap in (or on). H x
Saturday 1st July 2023. 08.50:
My head hurts a little bit. Not only am I hungover, but Sam Morris’ snoring (it sounded like someone starting a chainsaw) kept me up all night, so I’m knackered too. Tom Brooks just came into my room and called me “a fat David Walliams lookalike”, which doesn’t help things either.
A quick run through of last night (I made some drunk notes so I could write about it this morning); someone in a pub randomly came up and told me that I look like Ben Mitchell (thanks), the red light district is a truly surreal place, there’s too many Americans “experiencing Europe”, I paid €14 for a waffle & ice cream and when we got back to the hotel at 2am, instead of going to bed like most normal people would, Brooks decided to make everyone stay up and watch an episode of the Undateables. Nonetheless, Amsterdam is a truly unique and beautiful place and I’m so glad we got to accidentally spend some time here. The buildings are so weird, it stinks of weed, there’s water everywhere (I’m genuinely surprised none of us ended up in a canal), it’s horrifically overpriced, the transport is annoyingly efficient and the people are lovely. It’s a perfect city, in other words.
I can’t write anything else right now, it’s too painful. Speak soon. H x
Saturday 1st July 2023, 14.15:
22 hours later, we’re finally in Prague. We haven’t gotten off to the best start as we couldn’t get in contact with our taxi driver for half an hour and he’s very angry with us for being so late. It turns out we’d literally been sitting opposite him the entire time – awkward. I’m not sure what he said, but he just had a very shouty phone call in Czech. Oops.
American cultural hegemony continues to demonstrate its unwieldy prowess, as the first two restaurants we’ve driven past were a KFC and a McDonalds, although I would murder a McFlurry right now though to be fair, it’s awfully warm here. I can already tell there’s too many of the yanks here too, with their insufferable accents and terrifyingly large waistbands – you can just tell by the sight of them. On a brighter note, my initial judgement of Prague is that its beauty is mind blowing. The architecture is stunning and I cannot wait to get out and explore.
Yadda yadda, I need a pint. H x
Saturday 1st July 2023, 15.45:
After a short delay because they gave us the wrong set of keys, we’re finally in the apartment. We’re on the 7th floor with reasonably nice views, but I’m trying not to look down as it’s rather a long way. There’s an Irish Bar three doors down from us that has Sky Sports, is open until 1am and does Karaoke every night, so that’s comforting to know. Adam and I have just been for a quick pint (I feel much better now) and to check that England are still shit at cricket (which they are).
There’s 4 rooms with double beds in each, so the girls are sharing, Adam, Sam & I have taken a room each, and we’re currently debating which of us has to put up with Brooks for the weekend (it’s a debate I am extremely determined not to lose). The apartment is nice & modern but it’s in a shit hole building and there’s lots of dodgy looking people around – there was a sign in the Irish bar warning us to beware of “currency inspectors” that pretend to inspect your money and then run off with it, so I’m going to have to but together a quick briefing for Brooks to make sure he doesn’t end up penniless.
Right, I need another pint. H x
Saturday 1st July 2023, 21.10:
Right, I’m in an Irish Bar and I’ve just had an Englishman come up to me and apologise for interfering with my night (he dared to look at me, so naturally I gave him a somewhat disapproving look back, which apparently counts as interference), and he then attempted to engage me in conversation – he asked me where I’m from, so I answered and then asked him where he’s from, to which he responded “Brighton, but don’t worry, I’m not gay”. I’m not really sure how to respond to that one?
H x
Sunday 2nd July 2023, 12.55:
It’s a rough one today ladies & gents, although I’m taking solace in the fact that I wasn’t as bad as Sian, who threw up all over the table in an Irish Bar we were in before being walked home by Tom & Lana. Perhaps she had the right idea though, she’s feeling perkier than I am this morning (he says at 1pm).
At the beginning of the night we were sitting outside of a bar in the Old Two Square when crowds began massing to watch the Astronomical Clock, which, according to Lana (I was shocked to learn she can actually hold information in her tiny brain), is the 3rd oldest clock in the world. Everyone was very excited to watch what happened, until an extremely drunk Englishman (bear in mind this was about half past five in the evening) wandered past and started shouting “the clock is shit everyone I wouldn’t bother”. I simultaneously love and hate being English sometimes.
I spent a lot of the night listening to a man called Justin Bierno perform in an Irish Bar (I’m fucking sick of Irish Bars already) whilst Lana & Sian furiously flirted with him, cheering every song and asking him to sing “some proper British songs” (he was an American, unfortunately). Absolutely gagging for it they were, and he was lapping it up, saying he’d “remember this moment forever”. Are all Yanks that sad?
After that it’s all a bit of a blur if I’m being honest, although I think it was the usual case of drunken PC’s (private chats, if you know you know) and stumbling around, offending the natives. Fast forward to this morning, we’ve been for breakfast in the Irish Bar that’s just near the apartment and I had a pint to try and sort myself out, but I’m still feeling awfully sorry for myself. The bloke who runs it is actually Irish and he wasn’t best pleased when I asked him if he could put the cricket on. Sore loser.
Now I’m off for a bit of exploring. Speak soon. H x
Saturday 2nd July 2023, 17.25:
I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’ve had a wonderfully cultured & civilised afternoon with Sam Morris; we scootered around the old town, visited Prague Castle and had coffee in the gardens, dropped in to an art gallery for a look around and had a beer on a rooftop restaurant by the river. I know! I’m as shocked as you are, I thought Sam was allergic to activities that don’t involve beer or women, but it was actually a lovely afternoon.
Usual service has quickly resumed though, as we’re currently in an Irish Bar loudly discussing how Sam, Lana & Brooks came to check on both Sian and I in bed last night when they got home, and we were both spread-eagled butt naked in our rooms. I’ll quote directly – “you looked like a right twat in your eye mask with your fat arse hanging out”. I’ll let you guess who said that one.
After our touristing, Sam and I met up with the others and had some dinner in the square. I had a wonderful Spaghetti Bolognese and an abnormally sized beer. Lana, Sian and I decided to do some people watching, so we sat judging whether people had good or bad vibes as they walked past. Well, we laughed so much and so loudly that a German man sat opposite us asked if he could join in, and he even remarked that I seemed “fucking crazy but fucking funny”, which seems about right. I have officially appointed myself Vibe Chairman – it’s a pun on Vice-Chairman – get it? God I love myself.
Speak soon. H x
Monday 3rd July 2023, 12.00:
Surprisingly, I feel quite well, which is an achievement considering I ate two kebabs, a Magnum ice cream and half a bag of M&M’s when Tom and I returned to the room last night. Tom & Adam are now referring to me only as “two kebab Harry”, which is a wonderful addition to my already distinguished list of nicknames.
I came home quite early last night, at about midnight, because I spilled my whole drink down myself when I was trying to throw some lemon slices at Sam. I was planning to go back out but then Tom rang me and asked if I wanted some food bringing back, and the thought of eating a kebab whilst watching The Undateables with Mr Brooks suddenly seemed much more appealing than going to some shitty nightclub with Sat Fam.
I did particularly enjoy one wonderfully wholesome moment last night, which makes a big change with this group of reprobates. We were in an Irish Bar (shock) and the band started playing Elton John, which we all simultaneously started absolutely belting out at the top of our voices. It was just a really nice moment, singing a lovely song with my lovely friends in a (questionably) lovely bar in a lovely city. You have to appreciate these moments when they happen.
Another standout moment of last night was being overwhelmed with abuse from a random English stag-do we bumped into outside of another Irish Bar, my personal favourite of which was “did you let a child loose on your arms with their crayons”, which I’ve never heard before. Honestly, I really do understand why everyone fucking hates the English – even when you put the imperial nostalgia aside, we are just absolute arseholes.
Right, I’m off for a shower. H x
Tuesday 4th July 2023, 15.05:
I can only apologise for not writing more yesterday, I just wasn’t in the mood. It’s quite difficult being this interesting & witty all of the time.
I had a nice time in Prague, although whoever started the rumour that it’s cheap it’s utterly full of shit – the girls paid £5.50 EACH for a pint of coke in the restaurant we went to yesterday for lunch. There also wasn’t as much to do as I’d have liked – I’d kept yesterday free to do some art galleries & museums, but they all seemed to shut on Mondays, which was fucking annoying. We spent most of the day loling around and vibe checking people, despite the fact that we were all hungover and looked like shit, which is not the vibe. We had some food in the Old Town Square and then went for a coffee at a cafe by the river, like proper tourists.
In the evening, myself and the girls found a stunning Italian in a little side alley just off the main square, where I’d had possibly the nicest chicken carbonara I’ve ever had, with a glass of Sauvignon (obviously). We then found the three plebs and had a few drinks with them at a bar before we went with them to a curry house. I didn’t eat again, don’t worry, even I am not that much of a pig. After that we all went home and watched The Undateables together, as you do when you’re on holiday in Prague.
So, overall, I would say Prague is a beautiful city but it does not have a huge amount to do and it is very expensive. However, I got to spend yet another weekend with the fine specimen that is Tom Brooks, and you cannot put a price on that.
Until next time. H x
