IT'S A LIFE LESS ORDINARY FOLKS

In the past few days, me, myself, Irene, Flip, Squinty, Ginger, Biggles, Ju-Ju, Ngwee Wimpole, Koo, Fang, Swifty, Chopper, Lady Spon and Bob the Mongoose, have decided to make more of a concerted effort to get to know our own neighborhood a little better.

I live in the manky, partially run-down, yet totally charming area generally known as Zizkov, in Prague 3. It is, for all intents and purposes, a hill suburb - and due to its elevated positioning, offers splendid views down on the Old Town and the castle beyond.
Zizkov, (pronounced 'yo-beyotch-dont-mess-wit-da-homies-aiight'), was once a hot-bed breeding ground for social and political revolutionaries, agitators, gay working-class bohemians, dwarf nude performance artists and raging procrastinators.
To this day - it still is.
Often when I am wandering up one of the many little hilly cobbled roads at night, whistling a merry tune and wondering where my next shot of Absinth is coming from, I find myself stopping by a frosted window - hypnotised by the magical sights within. A family singing songs around their antiquated little upright piano. An artist putting the finishing touches on a Renoir-esque portrait. Two old ladies playing backgammon in front of a coal fire...A goat tied to a pole in the middle of an empty room bleating as a parsnip is..
Ah, it fills one with a sense of belonging - a sense of togetherness. A sense of community. This is one of the many reasons why I am loath to up and skedaddle. There is still so much to see and explore and experience - even in my little corner of this ancient city. Ask yourself this: do you know what your neighbours are doing right now? And, more to the point, I fear: do you want to know?


[Postscript: Sadly, dear, faithfull Squinty was chased down and executed by the secret police in the back streets of Zizkov last night, after he was caught flinging dog excreta at a local nun. We will remember him.]