Tram (and Bus) Adventures

In Prague, there are two trams that are really worth taking to view beautiful streets and scenery. The first is number 12 on its route through Malá Strana and along the Vltava. The Vltava is always beautiful, but I find it especially so during the summer when it is full of boats and ships. Another of my favorite tram rides is number 22 on its climb uphill to the Prague Castle. On these two trams I´ve not only enjoyed scenic rides, but have also had some adventures.

The first adventure happened when I was on number 12 crossing the square to Malá Strana. I suddenly felt that my bag was heavier than usual. I looked down at it and saw a wrist coming out of my opened bag. I immediately closed the zip. The wrist was my prisoner! It belonged to a young, very pale and very decent boy, maybe a student without money or a thief at his first try. I opened the bag, and he drew out his hand, showing me that it was empty. I don´t speak Czech, so I said in English: “Shame on you! Get immediately out of the tram,” which he happily did. All the people on the tram enthusiastically nodded or smiled and gave me a big round of applause.

When I arrived home, I told my grandchildren what had happened. They applauded even louder. “Oh, granny,” they exclaimed, “You must go and help the police.”

My second adventure was quite different, but also involved the participation of my fellow tram riders. I had just climbed the two high steps into tram number 22 when a young, very good-looking English girl got up and offered me her seat. She had probably noticed how difficult it was for me to get up the steps. A young man, sitting near her said, “I am sorry. I should have left my seat.”

And I, looking at the girl, said, “Thank you so much, but don´t stand. I think that you can sit on his knees.” (I said so because I know it is the fashion nowadays.)

The young girl blushed (which is no longer the fashion nowadays) and said, “But I do not know him at all. This is the first time I have seen him!”

All the people sitting in that area of the tram began to laugh. Most of them were English or American tourists going to the Castle, so they perfectly understood what was going on.

The two young people got off the tram at the same stop. Maybe I helped two lonely hearts. Who knows? But this time, I knew better than to tell my grandchildren.

Trams aren´t my only form of transportation and entertainment; I´ve also recently been trying to solve a mystery on Bus 130.

Our flat is in Prague 5 very near a metro station and a stop for bus 130. Every morning we take the metro or bus to the center of Prague. I generally prefer to go by bus, which runs downhill between a row of ancient villas and fine gardens, rather than by metro, which assaults me with a blast of terribly cold wind, no matter what the season.

Last year, we met an elderly lady from Rome on the bus. She heard us speaking Italian, so she turned to our seat and introduced herself. Every morning after that, we met her on the bus. During our trips together, she told us a lot about herself, her husband, and the flat they had bought in Prague after their retirement. She loved staying in Prague and every morning she added a bit to her story.

One day we did not see her, nor did we see her the day after. In fact we did not see her anymore. I said to my husband who was reading his book in front of a cup of coffee, “Maybe she is ill.”

“Who´s ill?” he asked.

“The Roman lady,” I said.

He went on reading. I said, “Maybe her husband has died, and she doesn´t want to come alone to Prague.”

“Whose husband has died?” he asked, lifting his nose from his book.

“The Roman lady´s.”

Many weeks passed without seeing her, and I said to my husband, “Maybe she has died.”

“Who has died?” inquired my dear husband, still considering his book.

“The Roman lady.”

As the days grew longer, we began sitting in the garden of our usual coffee bar, surrounded by trees and flowers. Our usual routine is to take along our books and papers and spend hours reading or writing. It is beautiful there and the coffee is good.

One day, when we were there, I said to my husband, “Maybe they both are OK, but have sold their flat in Prague.”

“Who has sold the flat?” my husband asked, his thoughts miles away.

“The Roman lady,” I said.

“What´s happened to you, my dear?” inquired my husband. “Are you well?”

“Yes, I am perfectly well,” I said, “but where is she?”

Maybe tomorrow we will see her again.