In which Doris cannot walk so Sid and Doris take the train to Prague.
The epic journey took a new turn this morning when we found Doris could barely walk, never mind cycle. Happily Lovosice is on a railway line into Prague, over unappealing country and through some drab outskirts. As a further incentive to train travel it is chcije a chcije, as I believe the Czechs say. I think it means raining, only much more so.
The Czech Rail site says that bikes need a reservation. To our relief bikes only need a ticket. Our trainee ticket sales lad was briskly helped by his trainer and so we had plenty of time to enjoy the railway action at Lovosice before our train came. This would be a joy for informed train spotters as locos and rolling stock of all vintages trundles by.
The platform is low down, the train is high up, the bikes are heavy laden, the door is narrow, the steps are beyond steep. Sid’s hernia operations all hold, phew. Once aboard, the bikes are hung on hooks by their front wheels. It looks a bit tough on the wheel but it is less stressed than when tested with 70 kilos of rider.
We include some pictures so you can share the glory of today’s travel:
And if you look carefully at this picture, Sid IS the man in seat 61!
Every now and then the rain beats harder against the window as we glide along thinking what the next steps are.
First we walk the bikes to the Dominican Hotel from central station. The area around the railway station gives a poor preview of the city, though it does remind us we have not been in a big city since Amsterdam. The Dominican is in part of a fine building that is still a monastery and as we were already planning to be here for a few days we have a splendid suite, mmm, up a lot of stairs. Best news, it had not been sold for last night and was ready for us this morning to set up S&D HQ.
Next, get medical help. After about an hour on the phone to our insurers (mostly listening to an awful sub Becker and Fagin guitar hold track) Doris got a sensible set of answers from a woman who is herself a cyclist. Next we try to find a Doctor in some warrenish offices offering Regis for Medics. This combines Kafka (who lived here) and Joseph Heller. Each doctor lives behind a separate locked, and often unmarked, door. Occasionally there are unexplained rows of seats in the corridor. Every so often a doctor (or at least, a person in a white coat) would open their door, look at us in horror, and hastily close it AND LOCK IT again.
The orthopaedic specialists were apparently in room 505 which really seriously did not exist. If you are strong enough to walk around all these labyrinthine offices you do not need orthopaedic help. We have a sort-of appointment in a “foreigners'” clinic for early tomorrow and in the meantime more ibuprofen.
So the epic Sid and Doris have seen Prague through the railway station and the medics’ offices. To this add dropping in to a map shop for the Prague to Vienna Greenways map. The Greenways are for mud pluggers, but the maps show other roads that we could use. Another way to Vienna might be via Brno. We have a couple of days to think about the route and the knee.
When we stopped in Amsterdam the bikes had an excellent mini-service from Alex’s bike shop. Looking for the same here I have not found that ‘happy to help’ attitude yet. Maybe we’ll just pump up the tyres and clatter on.
We have just had an extensive list of suggestions from our own Bratislava correspondent, so will enjoy seeing how much of that can be fitted in.