Malta: Between Europe and Africa

This is the story of two men who went to Malta, much like the Italian who went to Malta.  (If you don't know what that means, watch this video: The Italian Man Who Went to Malta)

Before the story of Malta begins, I must first tell you about my adventure to Vranová Lhota, a small village close to Moravská Třebová, Mohelnice, and Olomouc, in the heart of the Czech Republic.  This is the village where Martin, my fellow traveler, lives, and he invited me to Sraz Lhot a Lehôt 2012, or the Meeting of Lhotas and Lehôtas 2012.  The names Lhota (Czech) and Lehôta (Slovak) are very common names for villages, coming from the word lhůta, meaning a defined period of time, referring to the time in which the village needed to pay their resident lord.  Since there are so many Lhota villages (more than 300 in the Czech Republic alone), a tradition began in 1980 for a yearly meeting in one of the villages.  This year, Martin's village hosted, and so I went to partake in the festivities.

I arrived in Vranová Lhota on Wednesday night, before the main action really began.  We spent Thursday arranging the village's Zbrojnice, Armory/Firehouse, into a make-shift pub.  The celebrations began on Friday, and in the afternoon I partook in the Pohádkový Les, Fairy Tale Forest.  Czechs have an insane amount of fairy tales, many of which were then taken by the Germans and then came to the United States.  Many of the residents of Vranová Lhota, myself included, dressed up as various characters from Czech fairy tales.  I had the honor, alongside Martin, of being a fly.  Not kidding.  I was the male, he was the female, even wearing a skirt for it.  With Kasia, Libor's girlfriend, as our trusty cow, the two of us flew around and hopped on a heaping pile of styrofoam sh... At each fairy tale, the children who came through had to perform a task in order to get some candy or a stamp.  We were handing out candy, but in order to get it, they had to walk on stilts.  The two of helped them balance and taught them how to use the stilts, which was a lot of fun, despite the incredible heat and the fact that we were wearing tight, black clothes.  All in all, the Fairy Tale Forest was a great success.  On Saturday, we marched in a parade through the village, again dressed as flies, though this time my "wife" was Radim, Libor's older brother.  Sixty-two villages were present and announced as they entered the main area of the festival.  We were of course last and left baking under the hot sun.  The parade was followed by jumping in the pond, then enjoying concerts in the evening and fireworks.  The meeting officially ended on Saturday, because of which we spent Sunday cleaning, and then Monday preparing for our trip.

Zbrojnice, the village armory, which we turned into a pub.

Czechs don't mess around.

All the partakers dressed for the Fairy Tale Forest after the parade.

Martin and I spent Monday, the 9th, in Mohelnice, a small city close to Vranová Lhota, gathering the final necessary items for our trip (bandages, exchanging money, etc.).  We fined-tuned the details in the evening, then went to bed with the alarm set for 5:15, so as to have enough time to drive to Mohelnice and catch the train at 6:30, destination: Poland.

Malta is a small country in the south of the Mediterranean.  It's composed predominantly of three islands, Malta, Gozo, and Comino, though there are also smaller islands surrounding it.  Malta and Gozo are inhabited, Comino is not.  It has a population of only about 450,000, and covers an area slightly larger than Boston.  Its capital city is Valletta, located on Malta, though Victoria (Ir-Rabat) functions as the capital city of Gozo, which is about a third of the size of Malta.  Malta was once a British colony, though after World War II was granted independence.  It is still a member of the British Commonwealth, and is officially a bilingual nation, speaking Maltese (a combination of Italian and Arabic) and English.  The English spoken on Malta is perfect, though slightly different from what we speak.  The accent, though, is absolutely hilarious.  Imagine a Swede trying to imitate a Jamaican and there you have it.  Since they were once part of Britain, the Maltese drive opposite of us, which caused for some confusion during the first few days of our trip.

Arrows pointing to the Czech Republic and to Malta.

For some of you, this might be the first time you've heard of Malta.  It's not a very well-known country, though I've never been to a place with a greater mix of nationalities.  While we were there, there seemed to be a competition between the Germans and Italians to see who could have the tightest clothes, the French were constantly complaining about something or other, the Spanish were screaming at everything, and the Russians just kept to themselves while the Scandinavians whispered in the background.  Enter Martin and me, the Czech and the American.

My interest in Malta was first peaked after seeing my favorite movie, Gladiator.  Believe it or not, you've actually seen Malta in many movies.  Gladiator was filmed there, along with Casino Royale, The Count of Monte Cristo, The Da Vinci Code, Munich, and Troy, among others.  I read about Malta in high school and was intrigued by the country where Europe meets Africa, where the West meets the Middle East, where Arabic and Italian combined into one language.  Martin and I were able to find cheap flights from Wrocław, Poland, and our decision was made.

We woke up on Tuesday, the 10th, at 5:15.  Martin's father drove us to Mohelnice, and from there we caught the train up to Wrocław.  The ride took about four and a half hours, and we arrived in Wrocław at about 11am.  We headed towards the center to see the main square, but all in all, Wrocław wasn't anything special in my opinion.  This year, Poland and the Ukraine co-hosted the EuroCup, a soccer tournament like the World Cup, though only for Europe.  Wrocław was one of the host cities, but in true Polish style did not complete its reconstructions in time, so the train station is still under construction, though the EuroCup has come and gone.  We headed down the streets lined with run-down, communist-era buildings, but finally arrived on the main square, which was beautiful.  In the middle of the main square was a small cluster of buildings with small courtyards and full of different shops and restaurants.  We did a quick spin of the main square, along with a secondary square, then began the trek to the airport.  We decided that since we had about five hours until our flight took off, we'd walk for a bit and enjoy the sunny day.  After about an hour and a half of walking, we decided to hop on one of the buses (without a ticket, no less), and ride the last few stops to the airport.

6:15 in the morning and ready to go!

Train station in Wrocław, Poland.

Me on the Main Square in Wrocław.

Martin in Wrocław.

Lunch at a bus stop.

We got to the airport, checked in, went through security, and it was all systems go!

To Malta we go.

We arrived in Malta at about 8pm, where the sun was already close to set.  On the plane-ride down, I had the window seat, Martin in the middle, and by chance I happened to glance out the window right as we reached the northern tip of Italy and the Adriatic Sea.  We watched as we flew along the East Coast of Italy, crossing the Dolomiti Mountains to the West Coast.  Martin asked me, "Do you think we'll see Rome?"  I glanced out the window and said, "I hope so.  Hey, look!  That city down there has something like a Colosseum."  He leaned over and looked, then said, "That part right there looks like the Vatican."  We looked at each other, shocked, and said, "It's Rome!"  We then watched as we flew over Naples, Capri, and Sorento, finally crossing the sea to Sicily and then landing on Malta.

Rome from the sky!

We're on Malta!

As we climbed down the staircase onto the runway, we were hit with a wave of humidity.  Martin gagged.  I smiled.  Finally, I could breathe.  We headed out of the airport after grabbing two maps of the country, found the road we wanted, where we got our first taste of the opposite Maltese driving, and headed south.  We walked as far as the Blue Grotto, a major tourist destination, which we somehow managed not to visit our entire time on Malta, and accomplished our main goal for the first night of seeing the Mediterranean.  We then started searching for a place to sleep, and finally found a nice boulder at a downward slant to sleep on outside the city of Żurrieq.  We spent the night slowly sliding down the boulder in our sleeping bags, being bitten by mosquitoes, and trying to get comfortable.  What we awoke to, though, was well worth it, as our view was of the Mediterranean, on the other side of which lay Libya, though unfortunately out of sight.

Our view from our first campsite, facing Libya.

Rise and shine, Martin!

Maltese countryside...brown.

A small cove close to where we slept.

We set out walking, trying to find a supermarket so we could buy some food and more importantly water.  We walked from Żurrieq to Siġġiewi, a small city still in the south, and finally found a place to buy some supplies, stop, and sit.  From here, we kept walking to Żebbuġ, from which we caught the bus.  The buses in Malta are a completely different story, one that I'll save for later.  They are, however, air-conditioned, and given that it was 9am and already in the high 90s, we decided to soak up the cold.  We took the bus as far as Valletta, the capital city, where we hopped out and got our first taste of Maltese civilization.

Main square of Siġġiewi

Church in Siġġiewi.

The bus station in Malta opens onto Triq Ir-Repubblika, or Street of the Republic.  It's the major road that runs straight down the center of Valletta.  The entire city of Valletta is one giant fortress, much like the Maltese islands.  High walls surround the cities, and there are buildings everywhere, as the original inhabitants had limited area to work with.  We walked down Triq Ir-Repubblika all the way to the end, wondering why there were massive (at least two times bigger than us) statues of the saints and especially Mary everywhere.  There were also streamers and banners hanging everywhere, and we tried to decide if a celebration were coming or had already passed.  With time and as my understanding of Maltese increased (somehow I managed to actually figure out some of their crazy language), I decoded that it was all in preparation for celebrations for Mt. St. Carmel, believe it or not!  There's even a church in Valletta dedicated to Mt. St. Carmel!  The city was beautiful and its beauty increased as more decorations were arranged in the coming days.  We walked all the way to the end, which is where you find Fort St. Elmo, a massive fortress on the tip of the peninsula of Valletta, shooting out in the sea, dividing the sea into harbors.  To the left, across the Marsamxett Harbour lies Sliema, another city, and to the right lies the Grand Harbour with Vittoriosa on the other side.

Neptune Fountain, the center of the bus station in Valletta.

Triq Ir-Repubblika, Street of the Republic, Valletta.

Maltese flag and the EU flag.

Church in Valletta.

British phone-booths are still all over the country.

Grand Harbour, looking towards Vittoriosa from Valletta.

Us at the Grand Harbour.

Grand Harbour, looking out into the Mediterranean.

We turned to the right and walked along the fort to the Grand Harbour, where we climbed up on a monument for World War II to get a view of everything.  Malta had a very tricky role in World War II, as it was still a British colony at the time, though lies just a 30-minute flight from Italy.  When Italy declared war on the Allies, Malta went into panic and lock-down, as they were basically a sitting duck of the British navy. Malta successfully fought off countless Italian attacks, thus one of the reasons for the great diving off the coasts of Malta, where you can find planes, boats, and submarines, and because of their valor, they were granted independence from Britain by King George.

World War II memorial.

We walked back up through Valletta, seeing the Presidential Palace, and then hopped on the bus to Sliema, one of the neighboring cities.  We decided to spend the night in a hostel, mostly to be able to shower, and we found a place to stay.  After that, we headed for the beach, where Martin immediately stepped on a sea urchin, forcing me to perform some surgery on his heel using tweezers and a safety pin, but all in all, it was a great first day.

Martin with Manoel Island behind him.

Me with Manoel Island.

Presidential Palace.

Water polo pools were everywhere.

Sunset over Sliema.

The next day, we left the hostel, took the bus to Valletta, and headed south to Birżebbuġa, where we saw our first sandy beach of the trip.  Maltese beaches are literally boulders, as the islands are almost entirely solid rock.  We then found a supermarket on the side of the road, where we had a quick lunch, and spent about an hour and a half exposed in the sun in temperatures higher than 100°F waiting for the buses.  Again, Maltese buses are a blessing and a nightmare.  We finally caught the bus back to Valletta, where we then transferred to another bus to Buġibba, a city on the north side of the island.  There we swam (Martin bought himself a snorkel and mask) and relaxed for a bit among a contingent of French people, then walked to St. Paul's, which is connected to Buġibba.  In the Bible, there's the story of St. Paul being shipwrecked on Malta.  The belief is that he was shipwrecked on a small island off the coast of Buġibba, because of which the bay is called St. Paul's, and a small city housing a church in his honor is there.  We walked by the church, which had quotes from the Bible engraved on the sides in countless languages, and then stopped at a small restaurant for a pizza and to sample the local beer.  Now, Martin is Czech, so he is a natural beer connoisseur.  After living here for the short period I have (almost two years, in fact), I have also gotten a taste for the different types of beers.  Maltese beer is horrible.  I have never had a worse beer in my life.  It might as well have been water.  We were highly disappointed.

The beach called "Pretty Bay" in Birżebbuġa

Typical Maltese boat.

Church in Birżebbuġa.

We ate lunch sitting on a wall next to a vineyard with a cactus right behind us.

Buġibba

Maltese beach in Buġibba.

Sunset over St. Paul's Bay.

Bible quotes on the wall of the Church of St. Paul.

Maltese cross.

Church of St. Paul, Buġibba.

St. Paul's Island

Buġibba

Maltese beer = thumbs down.

Why, God, why?!

Gross.

After our gastronomical set-back, we caught the bus to Ċirkewwa, the northernmost city on Malta.  We had planned to spend the night there, but instead caught the last ferry of the day to Gozo, about a 10-minute ride.  Once on Gozo, we caught the bus all the way to the north to the city of Marsalforn, where we found a comfortable place to sleep on a steppe outside the city facing Sicily.

Neeear, faaar, whereeeever you aaare...

Looking towards Sicily.

Marsalforn from our campsite.

Our hotel.

I think I'm going to send this to my dentist.

We awoke after the best night's sleep yet and set out to explore Marsalforn.  From there, we caught the bus down to Victoria (Ir-Rabat), the central city and capital of Gozo.  We walked around the city, which was also decorated for Mt. St. Carmel, and explored the citadel, which offered views of the entire island.  We then caught the bus to the Ta' Pinu Basilica, which is a basilica standing alone in the middle of the countryside, removed from everything and looming above the closest city.  Afterwards, we headed to the Azur Window on the west side of the island, a massive natural structure that was absolutely beautiful.  We spent time playing on the rocks there with the enormous waves crashing, and then even climbed up on top of the Azur Window itself (despite the signs proclaiming it as being illegal and dangerous).

Victoria, Gozo.

Banners for Mt. St. Carmel.

Cathedral on the Citadel.

Gozo, looking towards Marsalforn from the Citadel.

Victoria, Gozo.

The Citadel.

Victoria, Gozo.

Me on the Citadel in Victoria.

Namesake.

Maltese grocery store.

Ta' Pinu Basilica.

Ta' Pinu Basilica.

Azur Window.

Me at the Azur Window.

Martin

Martin playing in the waves.

Me after getting hit by a wave.

Me on top of the Azur Window in the middle.

Martin on the edge of the Azur Window.

Martin aka Superman on top of the Azur Window.

The Azur Window was incredible and beautiful, and we spent a while there just exploring.  There's also a small lake on one side of it, one side of which leads to a cave system which comes out on the far side of the Azur Window.  We didn't go in, though, as you need a boat, and we didn't want to pay for one.  We once again returned to Victoria, from which we headed to the southwest corner of the island to the town of Xlendi.  There we took a quick swim in some seriously rough water, and as the sun set, we headed up into the surrounding cliffs.  We explored the area as dusk settled in, which seemed to be a farming area, probably used in winter as the temperatures are then much more normal than what we were experiencing.  There were small two, three, sometimes even four-walled structures, some containing tools, and we found a two-walled structure where we decided to spend the night.  The wind was blowing hard, but the walls protected us and kept us cool.  We were far enough from all the cities that the sky was incredible, we saw so many shooting stars, satellites, and pointed out the constellations to each other.  We slept facing Africa, this time Tunisia, and woke with the ocean at our feet.

Xlendi, Gozo.

Sunset in Xlendi.

Sunset from the Xlendi cliffs.

Martin sitting looking towards Africa (Tunisia).

Our camp.

The view over the wall of our camp.

Since it was already hot, we knew we had to get underway fast to avoid the heavy heat of the day.  We had chosen this day as our beach day, our day off.  We walked to the city of Sannat, about a half-hour from where we'd slept, and from there caught the bus into Victoria.  From Victoria, we went up to the northeast side of the island to Ramla Bay.  Ramla Bay is a sandy beach, the reason we chose to go there.  We spent many hours there, just lying on the beach, reading, swimming in the warm water which was salty enough that you barely had to tread to stay afloat.  It was a necessary day of pure relaxation and enjoying being on the beach.  All good things come to an end, though, and around dinnertime we packed up and caught the bus back to Victoria, then transferred to another bus to Mġarr, from which we took the ferry back to Malta as darkness set in.  We hiked up into the hills above the harbor, which were once again covered with the two, three, sometimes four-walled structures, and settled in for a night looking at Comino and Gozo.

Church in Sannat, Gozo.

Ramla Bay, Gozo.

Me in the water at Ramla Bay.

Ramla Bay, Gozo.

Martin giving the thumbs up as the ferry pulled away from Gozo.

Our last night camping.

Our view of Comino and Gozo.

In the morning, we caught the bus all the way back to St. Julian's, a city next to Sliema, where we had previously stayed in a hostel.  We had booked a hostel for our last two nights, and were staying in Paċeville, which we came to find out was the center of nightlife on Malta.  In other words, it was where the Spanish spent the night screaming as loud as they possibly could.  We were better off sleeping outside.  We found our hostel, checked in, got to our room, which even had a balcony, and after spending the middle of the day napping to avoid the intense heat, set out again.  We went to Valletta to take a new bus, this time to Mosta.  In Mosta, we visited the enormous rotunda, which was beautiful.  In World War II, a bomb was dropped on it and crashed through it, but never exploded, so the rotunda was saved.  We then caught the bus to Rabat, a city close to Mosta, from which we walked across the empty moat and into the fortress city of Mdina.  Mdina is famous for its glassblowing, and so we, the two bulls that we are, entered the china shop.  Martin successfully navigated both floors without a problem.  I, however, managed to nearly wipe out down the staircase and thankfully an Australian girl was there to catch my arm.  After that, we decided to leave and continue exploring Mdina.  We came to the edge of the city, which was on the edge of a cliff with a massive wall leading to a shear drop.  From there, we could see the entire island of Malta.  The views of the cities with the Mediterranean in the background were incredible.  It really is a beautiful place.  We then headed back to Valletta, switched buses to Sliema, where we got dinner and ate on the boulder beach watching the boats, then went back to St. Julian's to enjoy an evening of sitting on our balcony.

Rotunda, Mosta.

Rotunda, Mosta.

Interior of the Rotunda, Mosta.

Interior of the Rotunda, Mosta.

Namesake.

Rotunda, Mosta.

Crossing the bridge into the fortress/city of Mdina.

Mdina.

Church in Mdina.

Mdina.

Looking at Mosta and the Rotunda from Mdina.

St. Julian's and Sliema from Mdina.

Maltese and English.

Looking towards Valletta from Mdina.

We sat on the rocks in Sliema and ate dinner watching the boats.

Sunset over Sliema and St. Julian's.

After sleeping in on the comforts of a bed, we dragged ourselves out into town and went for a quick dip at the beach down the street from our hostel.  We then headed to Valletta, with a quick stop to try to visit the fortress on Manoel Island, located inbetween Sliema and Valletta, but it was unfortunately closed.  We continued to Valletta, where the banners and decorations for Mt. St. Carmel were absolutely incredible.  There we visited the War Museum, where we learnt a lot about Malta's role in both World Wars, which was quite interesting due to its precarious location and ties to Britain.  We then wandered through the shops, buying ourselves some souvenirs, and then headed back to St. Julian's, with a stop in Sliema to stock up for our feast.  Since it was our last night, we bought ourselves some beers and a bunch of food, ready to settle in for a relaxing final evening sitting on the balcony watching the Spanish make fools of themselves.

Walking down Triq Ir-Repubblika, Street of the Republic, Valletta.

St. George's Cross, bestowed upon Malta by the English King when he granted their freedom following WW II.

Valletta.

Church in Valletta.

Library in Valletta.

A store in Valletta.

Funny sign outside a shop.

Last night on Malta, can't you tell?

The view from our balcony: the "Empire State Building," as Martin called it.

View from our balcony looking at Paċeville.

Our tiny balcony.

For our final day in Malta, we woke up at 7:30 to walk down to the beach for one final swim in the Mediterranean.  The water was cooler in the morning, but that didn't stop us.  We then packed our bags, bid farewell to the cities, and climbed aboard the bus, airport bound.  We got to the airport 40 minutes late due to the wonder that are Maltese buses, but with plenty of time to spare.  We boarded our flight, and two and a half hours later landed in Poland, where we promptly froze, having gone from weather in the 100s to weather in the 50s.  After a quick dinner in Wrocław, we caught the train to Katowice, a city in the south of Poland, where one of Martin's friends picked us up and drove us to Ostrava, where Martin studies.  On Wednesday, Martin and I took the train to Olomouc, where his father picked us up, then drove us to Brno.

Malta International Airport.

Misson: Success.

I hope you've read up to here.  Now I'll explain just some of the fine points of Malta.  First of all, if we talk about how things look, it can be summed up with the word brown.  The sun is so strong that everything is just quite simply burnt.  The landscape is brown, almost desert-like, and the islands are solid stone, which is why there are many quarries around the islands.  The lowest temperature we felt was probably about 90°F in the shade, and walking around in the sun all day every day was enough to drain the energy right from us.  We both fell asleep nearly every time we took the bus, which was thankfully air-conditioned, or we would sit for a while under a tree or once even at a restaurant and fell asleep at the table.  The water is beautifully warm, as well as really salty, which makes swimming there easy.  Compared to jumping in the mighty Atlantic, swimming in Malta is like taking a bath.

The Maltese are an interesting people.  There are two types of people that we noticed: half of the Maltese are very dark and look to be of Arab or Northern African origin.  The other half are very pale white and fair, clearly an influence from the English past.  This division is sometimes startling to see, but Malta is the place where Europe, Africa, and the Middle East meet, so it makes sense.  The Maltese language is very sing-songy, and is the major reason for the Maltese (Swedo-Jamaican) accent in English.  Their English, though, is impeccable, as nearly all signs are in English, and they also have all subjects in school (with the exception of Maltese) in English.  The Maltese, however, are swindlers.  Martin and I quickly realized we had to pay very close attention any time we handled money.  They are quick with the slight of hand, and if they can trick you, they will.  I was once given a 20 cent coin instead of a 50 cent coin (Malta uses the Euro), which look very similar, though the 50 is slightly larger.  Having lived in Austria and used the Euro, I immediately felt the difference in the coin, and I pointed this out to the shopkeeper who had a whole list of reasons and apologies ready.  Martin was once given one Euro short in his change by a different man, and when he pointed this out to the worker, the same slew of apologies and reasons were offered, making us raise our eyebrows.  We stayed at two hostels during the trip, and the first one was a rip-off in several ways.  The biggest, though, was that we paid two Euro for breakfast.  We were given voucher tickets and told that breakfast would be served from 8 to 9:30.  We were there at 8:15 and waited until 9:30.  Not a single person came, and the reception of the hostel wasn't open, so there was no one to ask.  Fed up, we finally just left.  Thus, while I enjoyed being able to use normal English with the Maltese, not the horrible excuse for English spoken on the European continent, it did get frustrating having to pay constant attention to all monetary matters.

The biggest difference we saw was in public transport.  Maltese buses run very differently than European buses.  European public transport is most always quite precise.  Czech public transport is notoriously precise.  Maltese public transport is the polar opposite.  If the driver did not feel like stopping the bus, despite people waiting at a bus stop, he simply would not stop.  Bus schedules are more of a suggestion, as the electronic tables constantly change the times that a bus will come.  Sometimes it will say a bus is coming in five minutes.  Five minutes later, that same bus is not scheduled to arrive for another 43 minutes.  There is no logic in it, and you have to hope you're in the right place at the right time.  The best advantage, though, and the reason we took the bus everywhere, was that buses were cheap (€2.60) and air-conditioned.  The drivers, though, are absolute maniacs.  Since Malta and Gozo are small islands, the streets are understandably quite small and narrow, even by European standards.  The buses barrel down the streets at high speeds, whipping around corners, beeping their horns ahead of time to warn any potential pedestrians.  We never ate before getting on the bus, as we were jostled around so much during the ride that we would've lost our food.

The best bus story comes from our last day on Malta.  As I said, we were 40 minutes late in arriving at the airport.  We came to the bus stop close to our hostel 15 minutes ahead of the scheduled departure of the bus.  The bus stop was located halfway down a hill, with a four-way intersection at the top of the hill.  As we watched, a bus broke down in the middle of the intersection.  Instead of kicking it into neutral and coasting down the hill to the bus stop out of the way, the driver instead got out, closing the doors behind him, not allowing the passengers to get out.  He then waited while at least six other buses from the four different directions all followed suit and came to join him in the middle of the intersection so as to discuss their plan of attack.  If one intersection in one city is clogged, it affects the traffic of the rest of the country (yes, country), and thus there were lines of cars backed up in all directions.  The Maltese also have an affinity for beeping their horns nonstop.  They mostly do it to warn pedestrians to get out of the way when approaching a crosswalk or corner, but they also do it to show their frustration.  Thus, you can imagine countless cars all laying on their horns for many minutes while this group of bus drivers nonchalantly discussed the bus' engine in the middle of the intersection.  Don't forget, either, that all the passengers in the buses were roasting, as the air-conditioning was turned off.  Martin and I just stood there laughing while they tried to solve this problem for at least 25 minutes.  They finally got the bus started and underway, our bus came, and we were able to head to the airport.

Overall, the trip was a great success.  It was an entirely new culture, way of life, climate, etc.  We both had a really great time, and I enjoyed traveling with Martin.  We speak to each other predominantly in Czech, though from time to time in German and English.  Czech allowed us the great advantage of being to talk about anything without the people around us understanding a word, which was a lot of fun.  I'm glad that we went, and I'm looking forward to my next great adventure!