Sweat, Wine, and Large Towels

Many people have asked me what I planned on doing on my sabbatical.  Write the next great American Novel?  Develop a low-power notepad using e-ink and fuel cells?  Finally get a hair style that works?

I wasn’t really sure going into it what I was going to do.  But one thing I was definitely not planning on was being in rooms with hot sweaty naked Czech chicks.  Which is what happened yesterday. 

The stage: AquaPalace in Prague.  It’s like Wild Waves and Six Flags mated and created the largest water park in Central Europe.  Hey I know what you’re saying: “youre in one of the most beautiful places in Europe and you go to a water park?”  Look hosebeasts, it has been about 9342 degrees here for weeks – all my shirts have been sweat thru like Richard Simmons when he sees elderly fat people – I needed a break.

They also have an entire section of Roman Spas.  Which is where the nekkidness comes in.

I trundled up to the Sauna area, teetered across to the entrance with bathing suit on only to be stopped by an attendant who looked at me and shook his head.  “No suits,” he said (albeit in Czech, so I thought he was just complimenting my fashionable bathing suit.)  After I finally realized he wasn’t pointing at my package, I peeked around the corner and noticed the au naturel nature of the folks in attendance. 

Ah well, when in Prague, do as the Praguians do.  We Americans are such prudes.  There is a certain freedom wandering around with only a sheet covering your bits, disrobing with a bunch of other people in hot steamy rooms.  I felt like Bacchus – they even had wine and beer in case I was feeling not quite decadent enough. 

In any case, there you go.  Cultural experience #291 – awkward American dude trying to keep his eyes away from flesh of others for whom this is de rigueur. 

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