The 4½ hour train ride went by in what seemed like 20 minutes! And then I remembered that I hadn’t slept. But then as I stepped out of Prague station, this captivating city woke me up again. There’s a beautiful garden right outside the train station and loads of trees around. You would never think you’re outside a busy train junction! The weather was just about perfect with a light breeze and warm sunshine, around 18° C, I later gathered. I had booked myself into Hostel Elf, which was supposedly a 15 minute walk from the station. I thought I had gotten my directions right (from the hostel’s website) but I wasn’t carrying a map and ended up taking a wrong turn and walking right into the old town. I then walked back to the station, bought a map for some 60 crowns (1 crown ~= 3 rupees) (which served me excellently till the end of the trip). On my way, at one of the crossroads where I was trying to figure out where to go, I remember being helped by a most stunningly beautiful woman who appeared out of nowhere, gave me directions, and then promptly disappeared. It felt like almost divine intervention at that point coz there was nobody around and I had inexplicably forgotten the name of the road where I was to find my hostel!
The receptionist at Hostel Elf was typically helpful with the room setup, etc. and it was quite a breeze checking in. It was 12ish, I was hungry and I was also very determined to get tickets to the Czech Republic vs Spain match the next day. As I was about to leave the room, an old white gentleman walked in and asked me in perfect Hindi “Namaste..! Aap kahan se hain?” (Where are you from!?). For the longest time I didn’t have a reply. I was shocked to meet this white guy speaking perfect Hindi in Eastern Europe! Turned out the cheerful old man was extremely well-traveled, had been in India several times over a period of 25 years, had acted in Tollywood & Bollywood movies, done social service during floods in Orissa, and pretty much fallen so much in love with India that he kept going there every year. But he had not gone for the last 15-20 years, because he thought "the country had changed, for the worse, the innocence was lost and the big corporates were running things…"
After a quick chat with Dennis, I set out on my quest to get a ticket for the game. That was quite clearly my objective of coming to Prague - not the bridges, not the castles, not the hills and not the valleys! The walk to the stadium was a long one. Up and over a hill, for about 1 hour. I reached by around 2pm. Luckily for me, the ticket counters were ready to open only by 3. And there was, shockingly, not a soul in sight! I dinked into the McDonald’s by the Letna stadium to catch a filet-o-fish and some fries. Exactly the same as you’d get in India, heavy junk food which makes you feel queasy in 30 seconds. Yuck! But I didn’t really have much of a choice, there was nothing else around!
Then I strolled across to the ticket counter and one elderly Czech man had made his way there. We figured the common language that we could both speak and understand was French! So he was talking his fluent, but slowed-down-for-me French, whereas I was struggling with my pronunciation, but we managed to get a conversation going! Turned out he was a huge fan of Sparta Prague and was looking forward to an International game for a change. We talked for over an hour about football - the world cups, great games that he had watched live and how much we both enjoyed specific moments in some matches. It was the kind of joy only a true football fan will know. As the 3pm deadline for the ticket counter to open approached, a few people, around 25 had queued up behind us. It included a young Spanish guy from Granada, Javi, who was studying to be a doctor in Prague. He too joined in the conversation (thankfully he spoke English) and we really hit it off well talking about our favorite team, Spain.
The ticket counters opened and we got our tickets within minutes. I was shocked that I got the tickets for Rs.1,500! When I had checked online, the least that was available was 200 pounds (16,000 rupees!). Teary eyed, I smelled the ticket, ran my fingers over it, read and re-read it – yes it was real! YES, I was going to watch Spain LIVE! And a humongous bonus was a free pass to a training session later that evening. I was in seventh heaven.
I took an extended route back to the hostel to see some of Prague’s sights, but I don’t quite remember going wow with anything, I was too pre-occupied in my head with what was going to transpire in the evening at the training session. I reached the hostel, took a shower, and was ready to go back to the stadium. I met Anna on the way for a drink – we’d connected on Couchsurfing and she gave me some tips on what to check out the next day, and helped me on my way into a bus which would take me directly to the stadium.
Then came the big moment. I walked into the stadium, 7pm, the smallish crowd cheering the Spanish team coming on to the field for a 1 hour training session. I was there. I walked down almost to the touchline and grabbed a seat. 
Xavi, Silva, Villa and Mata started whipping crosses for the likes of Torres & Puyol to head into goal where the giant figure of St.Iker was diving around. All this, just 20 feet away. I had tears in my eyes. No jokes. This was really a dream come true. It had been a great trip so far, but I could easily give up anything that I did, or anything that I was going to do, whatever screw-up could happen on the remainder of the trip – NOTHING was going to take away this moment. I had missed going to the World Cup in South Africa after having everything booked, and I had come to Prague with a singular goal, of watching Spain play.
The session was reminding me of my endless days of playing Football Manager. I could allocate time to different kinds of training sessions, crossing, 5 x 5, heading, etc etc., all of it was happening in front of my eyes. They switched to a half-pitch game with about 8 vs 8. David Villa was on fire, scoring goals from impossible angles. They were having an absolute ball. Torres was chugging along rather lifelessly and it was really sad to see a striker whom I’d admired so much in his Athletico days to be reduced to this. Xavi was clinical as usual, passing through an impossible maze of players and making goals out of thin air. The game went on for about 25 minutes. Intense running, close passing and breathtaking finishing! And after this tiring game, they all came to the centre of the pitch and started doing push-ups, 50 of them at a stretch. It was super-human. I can barely manage 10, and although I know I’m not exactly the benchmark on fitness, to do what these guys were doing and that too after THAT kind of a game, it was truly out of this world.
Xavi and Valdes concluded the session by doing some free kicks and brilliant diving saves, respectively. I could scarcely believe what I had witnessed, that too at such close quarters.
As the training session closed out, I decided to walk all the way back to the hostel. Must have been a 5km walk, at least! But the weather was perfect (around 14-15 °C), and the excitement of watching the training session was pumping energy to the last little toe in my body. I stopped for dinner at a cool looking restaurant close to the business area, and reached the hostel for my warm bed and a long-overdue sleep!
Day 2 in Prague was going to be a typical walk through the city, over the famous Charle’s bridge and up the hill to Prague Castle. I was a bit apprehensive about the weather as the forecast said 8°C and rain! I picked up all my warm clothes, as usual and left by walk first for the station. The walk from Hostel Elf to the station via on old, now-unused tramway was particularly memorable. There was absolutely nobody around and I wondered to myself as most Indian tourists in Europe would (where are all the people!?). It’s ironic that most foreign tourists in India find peace when they come to ‘crowded’ India, and Indian tourists abroad find it peaceful, coz there’s no noise & crowds!
I dropped my luggage off at the station, stored safely in a locker for the equivalent of Rs. 600/- for 24 hours. Quite expensive!
The walk through the city, Charles’ bridge, Old town & up to the castle was thoroughly enjoyable, and I recommend it highly for anybody wanting to truly see Prague. It’s a small city and it wouldn’t take more than a day to cover all the main sights on foot.
The weather was surprisingly holding up, no rain and no chilly breeze! 
In fact the sun was out, and I was even able to spend an hour in a random garden soaking in the heat and clicking photographs of an equally random statue in that garden.
I reached the castle right on time for the customary changing of guards and somehow found myself on the other side of all the action. There was a crowd waiting at the gate, and I was actually inside the castle walking along with these guards who were marching out to be replace the ones waiting at the gate. Good fun! The castle itself was beautiful and imposing, but I left it to another day to go exploring inside it. I had a game to catch! :)
I trotted along to the stadium a good hour and a half before kick-off, and as I had become habituated to, there wasn’t a damn soul in sight… Just a few policemen with sniffer dogs walking around in the distance! As I waited, a bunch of loud fans in Czech overalls came in, shouting, singing and generally having a good time of it. The crowd was slowly starting to build. Lots of dads with their sons, lots of young college groups and not to mention a ton of good-looking women, unquestionably there to Czech out their footballers!
As they opened the gates, my eyes went over to the back side of my ticket, which I had thus far guarded like Frodo guarding The One Ring. And what I saw sent shivers down my spine. In a big, bold sign, there was a camera with a cross on it. And I was carrying my HUGE DSLR Canon 500D with me. A deluge of thoughts flooded my mind:
“How the HELL did you miss seeing that on the ticket!? You should have seen it before! You could have easily left the camera in the locker at the station. You came here to watch a game, not to click photographs, what were you thinking!??”
My heart sank. I couldn’t believe I was soon going to be asked to step aside, leave the camera someplace, or worse still, go and keep the camera back at the station, and then come and watch the game. I moved up towards the gate, and moved my ticket over the scanner so that it screeched open.
Heart pounding.
I managed a smile at the security guard who took a long, hard look at the camera. All my prayers of all my mornings to that date would have to help conjure some spell on that guy to make him not notice the obvious camera in my hand.
He looked at me from head to toe, and then, without a moment’s notice, waved me IN, with a smile, and, what’s more, an “Enjoy the game!”
Relief... Ecstasy.
I was in! I went down to the seat, right behind the goal. The players were coming out for their warm-up sessions.
For the next 2 hours, I was under their spell. As Xavi & co ran circles around the Czech defense, I watched smitten, by the symphony of the beautiful game.
I left at the 80th minute, to avoid the crowd and to get to the station on time. On time for my 3-train journey to Krakow, Poland.
awesome one dopey, i went on a small journey with you when i read this :)
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