Trans-Homeland Express

But there is no connection to London. Don't go to Nuremberg", said the clueless old woman at the české dráhy helpdesk in hlavní nádrazí as I asked what would happen if I missed my prescribed connections onwards to Frankfurt, Brussels and London if the 10 minute delay on the 5:10 international rychlík to Nuremberg increased significantly. It was a still, mild morning and despite my one hour of sleep, I had been free of worries enough to be thinking aloud about declension of pronouns during my lone walk to the station, until I had been greeted by the rather unnerving departure board.

But this time it all worked out okay. We set off 15 minutes late, and had gained ten of those by that point where the frozen streams and snow coloured forest we were cantering past suddenly turned German. The earlybird students who had joined me before Plzeň had inspired me to get my macbook out and get the beats rolling, and as we were joined by hordes of Bavarian pensioners from Cham, Schwandorf and Amberg, I was EQing the same bass riff for what seemed like forever, before realising we were finally approaching something which actually looked like Slightly contrast to the photo I have before this which shows two Hurvinky at Domazlice it had a higher population of humans than pheasants Nuremberg.  Read more>>>