"Where'd you wanna go?" "I dunno, let's just go!"

“Carriage take me with you! Ship, steal me away form here! / Take me far, far away. Here the mud is made of our tears!” ~ Charles Baudelaire When I was very young, my parents would occasionally visit college friends in Chicago. One of them would stay behind in New Jersey with me and the other would go out for a few days to revisit old Northwestern haunts and do something school spirit-esque with their buddies. My love of airports began then. I remember waiting for my mother at the gate (back when you could do such things,) and staring at the arrival and departure boards and thinking that I wanted to go EVERYWHERE even if I had no idea where or what Albuquerque or St. Louis were. De Botton’s chapter, “On Travelling Places” pretty much sums up my entire desire to travel. I love rest stops, airport terminals, train stations, bus depots, and the experience of motion, of going from one place to the next is a thrill I have yet to find in looking at a beautiful building or landscape, or touching the oldest grave in Prague or anything else. I’ve been here in the Czech Republic for just short of four weeks now. Last weekend was the first time I’ve left the city yet. I wanted to orient myself, get accustomed to new surroundings, new routes to class, new public transportation. But last weekend, I was feeling the need to move, to get out of Prague. Complacency is the only enemy. So a friend and I boarded a bus to the city of Liberec, near the northern border of the Czech Republic. He wanted to go, he had planned the sights to see and things to do; I was just along for the ride. The bus ride was literally the best part of the trip. Not that there was anything bad about the day, it was very nice, a calm, beautiful day in a quiet, historically rich city, but as soon as we reached the bus station, at the last subway stop on the B line, I was ready to go. It was a fascinating place, Soviet influence clear in the rundown structure of the building and graffiti covering the walls. Severe and concrete, the people waiting for the bus, already dour looking because they were Czech people out in public, had the distinct Hopperian air that de Botton refers to. The loneliness of isolation, of being in transit, not at home surrounded by compatriots, gives a distinct tinge to everyone and everything. The bus, by far the nicest bus I’ve ever been on, with plush seats, a free cappuccino, and headphones for watching the movie being screened on typical tour bus screen units, was quiet as we boarded. Seeing the plants along the highway being to blur into the familiar green stripes of fast travel brought on my adrenaline. My friend and I have never enjoyed an episode of Friends so much in our lives, and it brought calm, with the thought, “I’m going somewhere, I’m doing something, this is right.”

The Welcome Babylonian: He was everywhere, grinning at us.Junk on Display: This was a case of "technologia" (I think) by the entrance to the "IQ Park." Which was supposed to be a bit like the Imaginarium.

These photos are from Liberec, they’re of a crazy place called Centrum Babylon. Talk about an, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!” moment! It was a mall/amusement park/exhibition center/casino/dance club/hotel (I guess) but really, words cannot describe. Let the pictures speak for themselves.

Marilyn at the Bowling Alley: James Dean was there too.

Location