Sunday morning. 8am. I had returned to the boat just five hours ago after an exceptional email in the suburbs of this beautiful city. Beer had flowed, at just 80pence a pint and the banter was top drawer. We even discovered a jukebox that would play random clips of 1970’s hardcore porn instead of the usual cheesy videos. I can tell you that Shakin’ Stevens had never looked or sounded better. I finished the evening with a romantic walk across the Charles Bridge, the statues silhouetted against the moon-less night sky with Tranmere Ian. We weren’t alone. Two local girls, caught short, were squatting down for a pee on one of the most famous bridges in the world. Did they care? No, of course not. They even used a crisp packet to wipe. Classy – must have been English.
Anyway, back to Sunday morning. The reason for the early start? Well if it’s not beer it must be football. Oh how you know us too well by know. Indeed it was another game. But not just any game. This was Czech League four. Admira Prague was our destination, in the northern reaches of the city for the 10:15am kick off against Pěnčín-Turnov. I could go into huge details about the thoroughly entertaining seven goal thriller, but I am going to let a picture paid a thousand words.