Saxkova Palačinkarna

I’m going to start with a nitpick. Either my chair is just a bit too low or my table is just a little too high. So far, that is my only complaint, and it does force me to sit up straight as I type.

As I intimated in my previous post, I was in search of a place to hang and write tonight. I poked my head into a number of crowded bars, but even ones with a table available just didn’t do it for me. I tromped around the neighborhood, looking for a place with the right atmosphere. (Note: the typical neighborhood bar in the Czech Republic has three things: A tap, tables, and a TV. There is little further attempt to create any sort of atmosphere, as it is assumed the smoke will obscure the far wall anyway.) Tonight every place with any sort of atmosphere had a private party in it, except the place with a big hole in the floor where the restrooms used to be.

I’ve walked past this place many times, usually on the weekends. It is close to Vinarna Jana, which I wrote about recently, and like that place has restrictive hours that mean when I can’t find one of my regular places to go, I can’t come here, either. This place isn’t much to look at on the outside, so it’s never been a high priority for me. That, my friends, is about to change. This is a very comfortable place.

(I’ve noticed in my writings that ‘comfortable’ is a word I use quite a lot, and not just to describe places. I consciously go back and change it when editing, although for me there’s really not much better than ‘comfortable’. It is, for me, a superlative.)

Somewhat larger than the Little Café Near Home, it is still one of the smaller places I’ve partonized in this country. The section I’m in has five tables, a couple of them pretty large, and there are three more through the arched-brick opening to the bar. The light is low; the textured paint gives a terra cotta feel. One wall is dominated by a mural depicting a lovely Old Europe boulevard, impressionistic and executed in earth tones. Dark wood floors, solid wooden furniture, and wood ceiling beams complete the effect.

Palačinkarna is Czech for creperie, which is French for place with lots of yummy crepes on the menu. I can’t wait to be hungry here. I haven’t seen the product, but the prices look quite reasonable. It is quiet in here, and well-ventilated. Of course, the fact that there are more female patrons here than male has nothing at all to do with my judgement, except that the distaff like smoky beer barns even less than I do.

I could go on, but as I type, I’m watching my battery dwindle to nothing. There has to be an outlet around here somewhere.

Edited to add: There is, in fact, an outlet right by my table. The mornings I wake up with something to write but know if I even glance at the Internet it’ll be noon before I get anything done, you can find me right here.

Suddenly the Internet is hard to come by

Since the flood my Internet connection has been flaky on the good days. Today was not a good day. I’m not sure the problem is flood-releated; there was a bad period a month ago as well. Still, the flood couldn’t have helped. (One confirmed casualty was the splitter to allow the phone and the modem to share the line. Perhaps that is related to the current troubles.) Happily the Little Café Near Home recently added WiFi (pronounced in this neck of the woods as wee-fee). I gathered up my gear and headed out through a light rain.

Before I even got there I knew that I was heading for a disappointment. As I approached up the sidewalk the first thing I noticed was that the security grill was closed over the big window. The next thing I noticed was the sound of a jackhammer coming from inside. Renovations are under way. That’s cool, but not really convenient for me tonight. The bowling alley’s out – they are hosting a private party tonight. Their network has been sporadic lately as well; I think one guy is playing with the security settings but isn’t telling anyone else what he’s up to. On top of all that, I had pizza to go from the bowling alley last night, and as much as I like those guys, there is a limit.

I’m at U Kormidla right now, where I just had a very nice chicken dish that was not at all what I expected. Upstairs there’s a party of some sort going on; things are festive and they just relocated the plasma TV. Looks like there’s going to be a show. The downstairs is packed, and I’m feeling a little of that American guilt over sitting at the table sipping another tea while people are turned away because there’s no space.

On a marginally related note, on Saturday I’ve been invited to join a family for a meal. It’s the mother of one of the regulars at Little Café Near Home (for a while I though he was setting me up with her, but fortunately that doesn’t appear to be the case). The only catch is that I have no way to contact them. I hadn’t worried about it, I knew that even if I didn’t run into Martin that there were plenty of other Little Café regulars who would have his number. That was on my to-do list for today. That leaves the question, where does a Little Café regular go, when there’s no Little Café? That will be my quest for the rest of the night.