I'm currently writing this post from my balcony, where it's approximately 18 degrees Celsius, 6:28pm, and sublime. The entire sky of Rotterdam has been set aglow with a soft, peach-colored haze of sunlight. Birds are chirping from a nearby rooftop, and a light breeze is wafting the scent of freshly-bloomed cherry blossoms through the lush green leaves basking in the radiant warmth and sporting a healthy springtime sheen.
I just returned from Prague, and despite three nights of alcohol-induced insanity, I've never felt better. It only makes sense that despite the exhilaration of travel, the incurred bodily costs accumulate and leave one tired, sore (if you eat shit down the stairs in a club like me) and in need of recovery.
You'll need all the recovery time you can get if you drink this
And yet, this time at least, I don't feel tired. Quite the opposite in fact. It's not that Prague wasn't a heart-racing, adrenaline/alcohol-soaked spectacle of an adventure. It truly was. It's instead, because the thrill of the material world can never persist as long as the thrill of discovering something useful about yourself.
How I even ended up in Prague on less than 24 hours notice is a mystery to me. I just kinda heard from two friends – Ginder from London and Liuna from Texas – that they'd be going, contemplated the logistics, for a moment, and then booked a departing flight four hours from the time I clicked, "Confirm Flight Booking" with Ginder, Liuna, Tushita, and Chelsea.
Great time with Tina, Liuna, Tushita, and Chelsea but.....
Bros gotta keep each other from going insane
By most accounts, I'd consider myself a spontaneous person. Like the rest of the world however, I often wrestle with the little voice in the back of my mind that says, "You can't do it."
You can't do it, you've got a case study to do for Supply Chain. You can't do it, you don't have enough money. You can't do it, you've gotta work out tomorrow.
Yeah, little guy? GTFO.
Assuming you're a human being like the rest of us, your existence has come pre-loaded with two legs (since we're assuming you don't have a birth defect or something), a brain (however proficient), and an inherent desire to do what makes you happy. But so often, as we are creatures of habit, the little voice is enough to prevent any able-bodied, sufficiently financed person from breaking out of their comfort zone.
Another friend here at RSM named Jeff "Son of Jet" Li recently wrote a fantastic blog post on the concept of bubbles. A bubble is a machine of monotony; it consists of your daily routines, your comfort with the familiar, and your "average day" type stuff. Put another way, imagine an actual bubble or glass dome that covers your hometown, your workplace, or wherever it is you spent the majority of your time. It's clear, meaning you can see the world around you. You can see the exciting stuff that occurs outside the bubble or dome, and yet it takes a conscious effort on your part to leave the bubble and get there.
Burst that shit
Don't get me wrong, having a routine is unquestionably beneficial. At the same time, I've found that a routine can be equally poisonous to personal growth. It can imprison you within your bubble or darken your glass dome to the point that you don't even see what's happening in the world around you.
In that sense, Prague was symbolic of me not only leaving my bubble, but shattering my metaphorical glass dome into millions of little shards and stepping over them barefooted before taking off in a dead sprint, headlong into a world able to be seized by all those who seize the opportunities bequeathed to them.
I've recently made the curious observation that I often forget I have senses, and have since concluded that this is yet another negative effect of bubbles. Sight, smell, touch, hearing, and taste are all diluted in bubbles. You can only see the same things and eat the same foods for so long before your brain grows tired of once-fascinating stimuli.
All of that changed in Prague.
The city is a sensory paradise. From warm sweet bread at the Easter markets to the most aesthetically-pleasing architecture I've ever seen, Prague was pretty much a picture-perfect postcard of quintessential Europe. The people are incredibly friendly and kind to tourists, the nightlife is an absolute blast, and everything is cheap, convenient, clean, and 21 year-old study abroad student friendly. There is nothing pretentious about Prague; no gaudy gimmicks to attract masses of tourists; no pretenses, just authentic appeal.
If you don't enjoy this, what's not having a soul like?
With the help of Liuna's friend Tina, another exchange student studying in Prague and potentially the world's finest amateur tour guide, we walked through spine-shiveringly beautiful public gardens on the hills near the royal palace. We watched an insanely-talented street guitarist play a tear-inducing acoustic version of U2's "With or Without You" on Easter Sunday.
We also raged face at the infamous Prague Pub Crawl and the Karlovy Lazne Ice Bar, where I was personally tackled by Manti Te'o's girlfriend on a set of beer-soaked stairs, subsequently crumpling into a drunken heap in full view of hundreds of international partygoers. We took shots of Bohemian absinth and – as a consequence – met people from all over the world.
At any rate, it's not as if you must do the same things listed above to have a good time in the city, but there's undeniably a synergistic sense of awe in being able to party like any 21 year old should one day and drink in the view from the Charles Bridge the next.
One of the coolest places ever
I'm hopelessly in love with Prague, and if I had to put a finger on the tipping point where my initial affection transformed into enamoration, it was probably close to the sunset on our first day in the city.
We found ourselves walking amongst stalls in the market square wolfing down kielbasa and sipping effervescent spiked cider. Music was coming from all sides and the scent of various designer colognes and perfumes blended seamlessly with the sweet aroma of sugar bread. Tour groups and locals alike dotted the cobblestoned streets, steadily dispersing as the sun dipped below the rooftops of the gold-accented cathedrals and buildings.
"Fairy Tale Land of 2 euro cocktails"- Tushita
From the corner of my eye, I spotted a haggard street performer mixing a large looped piece of rope in a soapy bucket. A few younger children stood nearby, obviously expecting something of him, so I took a moment to watch what he'd do. From out of the bucket, the man took the rope and swung it in a large semi-circular arc, producing, of all things I could've stopped to see, the largest bubble I've ever seen. The younger kids all looked up, mouths agape as if they'd just met Batman, as the massive translucent sphere floated upwards, its membrane rippling in the light wind.
I watched the bubble float for awhile. Maybe a minute. Maybe ten minutes. I really don't know. I knew I had to catch up with Tina though, and so I hurriedly strolled off, tearing my eyes from the bubble. It might still be floating really.
All I know is this: I would absolutely love to burst my bubble again and return to Prague someday, if only to have the opportunity to watch bubbles again.
Thanks for reading ya'll. Until next time,
Drew
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