Barbora had left by the time the alarm clock woke us up. So Paddy left her a note before we set out for the airport. I had an attack of dairrhoea [sic] on the way, after being shown into the women’s toilets at Muzeum by the crown-lady, so I wasn’t able to get onto the bus to the airport. I said goodbye to Paddy at Dejvická bus stop, put him on the 119 and took the Metro back into town feeling sad and emptied and virtuous. I wasted time until the MMM1. Went to the [British] Consul but it was shut. Went to buy a Guardian but then decided not to. Looked in some record shops. 10:30 turned up to Czech lesson, a new, objectionable American colleague. Svatopluc overestimating our pronunciation abilities. The crowd arrived – Jill, Charles, Sherrie, Tim, etc. Milena late, held up at the bank, but paid me my 600 kcs. I took the stereo twin cassette player that Jill had brought and went and bought Claudio Arrau playing 5 Beethoven Piano Concertos, the Pathetique and Les Adieux and some Schubert Piano Sonatas D784, 475, 566 played by Peter Rösel. Had lunch near the dietni2, which was too full to use – Old woman waiting until the revolving door slowed down enough for her to be able to get through without being killed. Home. Prepared my lesson scattily, and tried and failed to do some writing. Left at 4:25 for the classroom, was there in plenty of time. Reading Huxley’s excellent essay ‘Meditation on El Greco’. A great essayist. And he writes better prose in his essays. The lessons went okay. It’s Tuesday now, I have to set off for the next lot. I’ll write this up later.
I told a couple of stories in the last class, obviously the best class, and they said I should write them up for the newspapers. They would translate them they said. I would be paid. I thought about it. The story of the Burning Bin in Prague Airport3. The Story of the Nice and Nasty Waiters.
Went out for a drink with Charles, and then a meal. Slept very very badly. Listened to Beethoven at 4:00 am. Not the way to go to sleep. No letter from Martin. Or the other people I wrote to.
Milena Monda Meeting.
A kind of restaurant, selling light snacks. Czech health diets at this time featured cheese and processed meat, just sliced thinner.
I can’t find this. The story goes: Young-Toby spotted smoke coming out of a metal bin hard up against a pillar in the airport. He tries to tell airport staff, but they’re not interested — though the smoke is darkening. And so, he goes up to the bar and asks for a glass of water. The barman gives it him. Young-Toby goes and pours it into the greyly smoking bin, then goes back to fetch another glass of water, and another, and another. Meanwhile, flames appear.
Eventually, a man in uniform appears with a fire extinguisher. He does not thank young-Toby.