This new exhibition considers the impact of modern media on wars and ethnic conflicts, focusing on the Arab-Israeli tension.  It presents the modern (and at times, slightly bewildering) work of a number of European artists responding to the Middle Eastern conflict and considers the historical connections between continental Europe and the Middle East, contrasting antisemitism with islamophobia.

Big themes. So afterwards, I went to the shop upstairs.

I am a real sucker for a museum shop.  Yes, this makes me superficial and vacuous, but I don’t care. Maybe it’s the thirst for new knowledge and ongoing self-development that exhibitions give me – the desire to delve beneath the surface and learn more about Czech photography/Degas/The Impressionists/the history of Rome (delete as applicable).  Perhaps I am just a good patron of The Arts. Or maybe it’s my dreadful western consumerism. Either way, the shop at the V&A in London is my happy place. 

Last night was no different – I cannot resist a post-exhibition browse.  I wandered stairs to the DOX shop.  This is one of Prague’s premier design shops, stocking glassware, porcelain, jewelry, lighting, furniture and  a multitude of other Czech-made items just waiting for someone like me to come along and buy them.

I broke with tradition and didn’t buy a book related to the exhibition.  Instead, I found myself purchasing two very lovely Koh-i-noor pencils (one handbag sized, one normal).  At 230 czk for both, I cannot decide whether this is a snip for a quality piece of Czech design heritage, or whether I am a mug that has just spent about eight quid on two pencils.

Enjoy the exhibition.

I know as together with hubby, I was outside running in it.  I mentioned a while ago that one of my over ambitious new year resolutions was to run four half marathons in 2012. As if this wasn’t enough, I decided to schedule the first one for March, just after the two most bitterly cold months in the Czech calendar.

I woke up this morning with the feeling of a school child going into their GCSE Chemistry exam.  It was dark outside and, I was fairly certain, perishing cold.  However, common wisdom says that you cannot train to run outside by being chained to a treadmill inside.  It’s just not the same thing.  Hubby and I agreed that we would run outside until there was snow on the ground.  This morning the snow was falling but not settling. Due to this technicality, we had to brace ourselves and head out into the cold. 

Hubby coaxed me out of bed by repeating my own mantras back to me.  All the things my inner voice would have said if it hadn’t been so sleepy: I will be grumpy all day if I don’t run.  It’s probably not as cold as it looks.  My running kit is on the radiator and is all toasty. A bowl of warm porridge will be waiting for me when I get back.

There are two types of people in the world. People who like to run and people who don’t understand those other people who like to run. 

There are mornings, like this one, when I wonder why on earth I am in the former group.  But I very much am. I become rather scratchy if I don’t run regularly and it is the only form of exercise that makes me feel truly healthy. Swimming, biking, yoga - I enjoy all of these but it’s only after a long run that I feel really fit.  

I love the way my muscles feel when I’m finished. I love the rhythm of heartbeat and seeing my breath, which this morning spiralled up above me like steam from a train. I love the moment when running stops being hard and starts feeling effortless (rare). 

More than anything I enjoy that rush of endorphins at the end, which makes me forget all about the cold and the dark and the early morning and makes the horror of running in the winter completely worthwhile.  I am a true addict.

Now, where’s my porridge?

My new boots.

I had a horrible day the other day so, instead of doing anything rational to solve it, I had a G&T (in keeping with the January resolution of not drinking unless I really deserve it) and went shopping.

I was after some “sensible” winter boots (in retrospect, how boring).  My requirements were that these were not brown, went with trousers, tights and dresses (i.e. everything I own) and crucially, fit over my grey jeans to keep me snug through the bitter winter weather that we’re not having. And they had to cheer me up.

You’ve heard me moan about the state of the Prague high street before so to be honest I was not looking forward to this new challenge. However, it’s like men. you only need one good one, not a whole shop full* and I found my “one” in pretty impressive time.

These beauties are suede over-the-knee boots with a top section that can be folded down for an alternative look (“Musketeer” boots to use the industry lingo) and are going to change my life. I’m not sure whether they quite fall within the definition of “sensible” winter footwear – just a hint of snow or rain and they might melt.

I might just stay inside all winter, stroking them.

***************

* For anyone in Prague looking for a whole shoe shop full of good footwear my new loves are from Hogl on Na Prikope, where there is a super sale going on. Enjoy!

I have also been getting to grips with my over-ambitious New Year’s resolutions.  You may remember that last year I resolved to do less . I am pleased to say I failed miserably – 2011 was a busy, and very lovely, year.  I definitely didn’t do less, but much much more and this year I am hoping for more of the same.  One friend has said that my extra-curricular endeavours are a ‘phase’.  I think she may be right, but whilst it lasts I have resolved to: read more, write more, learn more Czech, use less central heating, travel to six eastern European cities and run four half marathons.  2012 may be the year that kills me…

The half marathon plan started with my spontaneous suggestion that I could run twelve races in 2012, each in a different city. I  realised almost immediately that this was a ridiculous plan with the potential to ruin me physically, emotionally and (considering the travel and accommodation costs) financially.  I scaled back to six. I then realised that January and February are essentially un-runnable in Prague, and that I was already seeing an osteopath for back and hip pain. So I dropped down to a more manageable four – one per season. 

The first race is at the end of March in Prague.  The training schedule is in the diary and looks manageable (I say that now – ask me again in five weeks). The running diet started today: hubby and I have an additional shared resolution to eat more healthily. Despite recent medical advice to the contrary, we have given up alcohol for January.   We have also given up all meat (not poultry or fish as hubby went a bit pale at the thought), snacks and chocolate.   We started today, rather than the more traditional first of January as we were off having fun in Rome, which sounded distinctly less fun without the key ingredients of booze, meat and dessert. You see the kind of self-discipline we are struggling with.

I was reading the paper the other day (as part of NYRes Operation Read More) and it listed the resolutions of the great and the good. These included Jonathan Dimbleby’s - “not even a glass of wine at lunch time and no chocolate – except when I deserve either“.  I think we could be friends.

It is perhaps hard for a British audience to fully appreciate the emotion Czechs have for Havel. We Brits do not tend to grant our politicians hero status.  We do not have a Vaclav Havel, a Nelson Mandela, a Aung San Suu Kyi, and are fortunate to not have needed one. The closest equivalent I can think of is the loss of a head of state. As as the first popular president of a former invaded, politically divided and oppressed nation however, Havel is clearly a very different animal to a member of a hereditary monarchy.

He was not without his critics, especially domestically, but in the comic-strip of modern history, Havel is generally remembered as One Of The Good Guys.  Although the 1989 changes in then Czechoslovakia and the rest of Europe have their routes in a number of domestic and international factors, Havel’s name has long been synonymous with the Velvet Revolution and the move from communist rule to free-market capitalism and democratic politics. And he made that name by refusing to accept the political system of the day and by taking great risks and making huge sacrifices – including at times his personal freedom as he was incarcerated as a political prisoner - for a country and a people that he loved. 

He was not alone in this. Let’s not forget the many others who dared to oppose the communist system, including all who signed Charter 77, and  Jan Palach who set himself alight and burned to death in 1968, in protest of the Soviet Union’s invasion of Czechoslovakia. 

Today a black flag hangs over Prague castle and candles and flowers lie at the statue of St Wenceslas, where Havel addressed the crowds in November 1989.  The crowds remember him today – thousands of people gathered there early this evening, with the biggest Czech flag I have ever seen draped over hundreds of them.  Some people had left candles, others left cigarettes - he was a proliffic smoker. “Like Amy Winehouse” mused an English girl standing behind me. I suspect that is the only time Havel has been compared to Winehouse.

Much loved, and much missed, Havel not only worked to change the political system that oppressed so many, but for the first time in Czech twentieth century history, managed to do it without using violence.  We could use more like him.

Wenceslas Square this evening - via Adleyy and Lukas Korinek on Twitter and Facebook

As I tucked into my supersized Big Mac meal (why do these things by halves?) I offered hubby a chip – a french fry for any American followers. As he ate it, hubby’s eyes grew wide and as he reached for another he half said, half masticated “These are really good“. It was then that I realised that despite the fact that he is over 30, hubby had never eaten a McDonald’s french fry before.

How is this possible?

Hubby will put this down to our different upbringings. Mine was urban. I hardly grew up on the set of Grange Hill or Annie but I was allowed to get the underground alone when I was a teenager, have pierced ears, watch Eastenders, eat McDonalds and drink Archers straight from the bottle outside Finchley Lido Cinema. Actually, I’m not sure I was “allowed” to do the last one, but I “had a friend who did”. It’s a wonder I didn’t end up like Amy Winehouse.  Although this was of course in the pre Supersize Me days before Morgan Spurlock ruined it for everyone and made giving kids a McDonald’s Happy Meal seem like a grotesque form of child abuse.

In contrast, hubby grew up somewhere very rural and seems to have spent a lot of time pootling around the countryside on a bicycle, playing lots of sport and not talking to terrifying girls like me, who may have corrupted his otherwise innocent childhood.

Some may say hubby’s is the ideal, but I actually think his was a misspent youth. After all, you can spend the whole of your adult like doing nice wholesome things like riding a bike and going to garden centres, but once you’re grown up it’s really not acceptable to drink Archers straight from the bottle.

Fortunately, it’s never too late for your first French fry. Since that happy evening, I have also introduced hubby to Birdseye Fish Fingers and Alphabites.  I will just try to keep him off the Archers.

Recently I participated in the #fbcookieswap and met some more local bloggers (who, I am pleased to report also had fully functioning social abilities).  The general idea was: bake, share and eat cookies and blog about it afterwards, once you’re too full to do anything except roll around in front of a computer, or have given yourself early onset diabetes from eating so much cake.

The cookie swap rules suggested mailing cookies but as every single expat in Prague is terrified of having to visit česká pošta lest we fall foul of  the hideous customer service and cold stares of the pošta staff, we decided to meet up in person instead and have ourselves a little winter tea-party.

This was planned about a month ago – I thought (it being December) it would be a snowy, twinkly afternoon just perfect for cosying up with a cuppa, a cookie and a couple of friends.  Actually, the weather here is complete crap at the moment, so it was dark, damp and drizzly instead.  We made our own sunshine though – thanks Sarah for hosting a lovely afternoon, and to Agog in Prague and  Peggy Harowitz for baking.

I ploughed on with the Christmas theme regardless and baked Cranberry and White Chocolate Cookies, courtesy of the lovely Nigella. They were very yummy (even if I say so myself), and here is the recipe:

Ingredients

150g plain flour
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
75g rolled oats (not instant)
125g soft butter
75g dark brown sugar
100g caster sugar
1 egg (actually, I used 2 as the mixture seemed a little too dry with 1)
1 tsp vanilla extract
75g dried cranberries
50g pecans, roughly chopped
150g white chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 180oC/ 350°F/gas mark 4.

Measure out the flour, baking powder, salt and rolled oats into a bowl.
Put the butter and sugars into another bowl and beat together until creamy — this is obviously easier with an electric mixer of some kind, but you just need to put some muscle into otherwise — then beat in the egg and vanilla.
Beat in the flour, baking powder, salt and oat mixture and then fold in the cranberries, chopped pecans and chocolate chips.

Roll tablespoonfuls of dough into a ball with your hands, and then place them on a lined or greased baking sheet and squish the dough balls down with a fork. You may need two baking sheets or be prepared to make these in two batches.
Cook for 15 minutes; when ready, the cookies will be tinged a pale gold, but be too soft to lift immediately off the tray, so leave the tray on a cool surface and let them harden for about 5 minutes. Remove with a spatula to cool fully on a wire rack.

Nigella tells me that these ingredients will make 30 cookies. I think that’s ambitious, but maybe I’m just greedy. Enjoy!

Much of the week carried on as planned, with some minor set backs. For instance, one day, in a desperate bid for a non-muesli breakfast I bought a croissant AND a cheeky coffee between the gym and work. Bad for the wallet and the waistline.

Lunches and dinner largely consist of the soup I made at the start of the week. Over the week I grow to hate this soup – there is nothing you should eat ten times in seven days.  I am conscious that there is precious little food left in the house though so persevere. One day hubby suggests I have a baked potato for some variety. I have an inexplicable phobia of potatoes and start to gag.

I also benefit from the kindness of friends and family – a lunch out with hubby at Modrý Zub, a wander and hot chocolate from Choco Cafe bought by a lovely friend. It’s amazing what you can get if you develop a sad face and a pitiful shrug.

It’s not been plain sailing, and I had to make some very definite changes in lifestyle.  For example, each week I go to a Pilates class before work (free for group lessons). I often pay for private ones to try to help with my back pain. That would have been well out of budget so this week I go to the group lesson instead. It’s fine, but there are twenty of us and the tuition is in Czech, so I can’t follow all of it.  Result: Happy wallet. Unhappy back.

On Wednesday evening I usually go to a life drawing class but it’s 300 czk per week (plus 30 czk for a beer afterwards) so instead, I work until 9.00 and then wander back home – wanting to do anything except sit in my house doing nothing.  I watch a film, whilst eating more soup, and have a lovely catch-up with my friend via Skype. Nice, but I feel like a bit of a loser.

It was going relatively well until Friday.  I wake up in a panic – the cleaner is coming! I pay her 400 czk each week. Cancelling at the last-minute would be totally unfair on her so I decide to shrug it off and realise I will now definitely exceed my budget. Worse, I realise that I also have a hair-cut booked for the afternoon, which will cause me to exceed the week’s budget many times over. Again, I rationalise that it is unfair to cancel on someone at the last-minute. Also,  I am beginning to sport a very Czech mullet cancelling is out of the question on the basis of vanity. Frugal living is going down the pan rapidly.

I have the day off work on Friday and plan to spend the time catching up on some writing projects.  Usually, I might pop out for breakfast, or work from a cafe. This time, I make myself a pot of ginger tea at home (ginger from the fridge – free) and stay in. I eat the last two satsumas in the house. As the cleaner cleans around me I grow to hate myself. I am suffering from the problem experienced by all women with cleaners -  why am I not cleaning my own house? The usual answer (“simply can’t be bothered and earn enough to pay someone else to do it for me“) sounds less convincing than normal.

By the weekend I have essentially admitted defeat. We have friends visiting and they arrive mid morning. I am not going to make them sit in and eat five day-old soup with me so we have lunch out (they treat me) and wander around the Christmas markets, which have just started.  I resist buying anything apart from some hot wine (50 czk – an appalling rip-off in my opinion, but we’re in the most touristy place in Prague). We all go out for dinner. I have a lot of gin.  Hubby pays for me so I pretend it doesn’t count.  It would have cost most of the week’s budget again.

All in all, a dreadful end to Project Frugal, but I am full of gin and had a really lovely day.

***********

Total spend:

• ignoring cleaner/hair – a modest 544 czk
• including cleaner/hair – several times the week’s budget

So, I fell at the last hurdle.  I sort of expected this, as I am not known for particularly strong will power.  I am actually quite pleased with the results of the first five days, where I operated well under budget.  I ate at my desk like a sad-sack and didn’t socialise very much. I  didn’t snack at all and hardly drank anything alcoholic.  I saved some money on food, although I do cook regularly and relatively cheaply anyway – I love a lentil. 

I seem to spend a lot of cash on nice things for myself – cleaner, pilates lessons, life drawing. The list is long. Whilst I may have lived a (semi) frugal week, I clearly do not live a frugal life

This week I learned:

• To live cheaply, you need to be very organised and cook a lot
• Life would be cheaper if I liked potatoes and porridge
• If you only spend 600 czk in a week, you cannot drink much (even in Prague) and will lose weight
• It wouldn’t kill me to clean my own house

Am I a big spender? I would love to deny it but in all honesty, yes I am. Embarrassingly big actually. I do things like hide receipts and lie about the cost of purchases in order to avoid rebuke. Presumably this does not bode well for a week of frugal living.

The Rules

In line with the rules that Jeffries followed, accommodation and utility bills do not count. The original experiment aimed to track how much people spend/waste on transport, food and luxuries, rather than what we might term ’essentials’.  Any food already in the fridge/cupboard is ’free’. I must say, even before I start I feel a bit like a fraud – taking accommodation, heating, clean water and food completely for granted makes me uneasy. A week of living frugally is an interesting experiment for someone with a healthy salary, but is an unfortunate long-term reality for people from all over the globe, including in ‘developed’ countries.  Apologies in advance – this is not intended to be at all insulting to those for whom frugal living is a necessity not a hobby, but just a curious look at my ability to be more of a spend-thrift.

I already have a year’s Opencard for commuting – at 4750 czk per year (which I have always considered a bargain) this works out at 91 czk per week (out of a 600 czk budget, this suddenly seems like less of a bargain).

Sunday

Half of Sunday was actually already gone by the time I decided to join the challenge. Fortunately, I had not gone spend-crazy.  A lovely stroll with a friend in Stromovka Park followed by X-Factor catch-up (via broadband, which presumably we pay to use but I have no idea how, or how much). I make a tuna and bean salad at home for lunch and generally potter about. Hubby arrives home with a takeaway from the local Vietnamese Pho place – I nibble some when he is not looking and call it dinner.  Evening in - watching a film and getting ready for work.

All in all, a happy Sunday. I start to think that the no spending thing is easy, until I realise that I haven’t really done anything, have resorted to stealing food from my husband and have already spent around 20% of the week’s budget.

Total Sunday spend:

• transport for the week – 91 czk
• hot chocolate – 25 czk

Monday

Relieved the week has started – how hard can it be to not spend cash whilst at work?

I walk to work, which is free (but also makes me question  the rationale of having an annual Opencard).  Breakfast is bircher muesli, which I make in the work kitchen. I already have all the ingredients, except an apple (which I take from home – free) and apple juice.  My normal apple juice is 45 czk.  I opt for the cheapest in Albert, which is 32 czk. All the writing is in Czech, so I can’t be too sure, but I suspect this juice has never been anywhere near an apple… I forego my morning coffee from the Illy lady at Mustek station in favour of herbal tea (free at work).

Lunch time – I am at a strangely loose end. Usually I might pop out for a quick bite, or do a little Christmas shopping.  But today, being cost-conscious I munch yesterday’s leftovers at my desk. Containing both tuna and onion, this is not very social, but I can’t afford to eat out and it’s too cold to find a nice spot to sit outside.

I got a bit fed up at the thought that I might not go outside during the day, so I donned a hat and gloves and wandered down to Namesti Republiky. There is a very interesting (and free) open air photographic exhibition there, contrasting images of the Prague Spring with the Arab Spring – the revolutionary wave of demonstrations across several Arab states this year. I spent an enthralled 20 minutes here - a ’must see’ for anyone interested in current affairs (and on a budget).  

The evening is a tricky one. I have dinner planned with my mega-boss, who is visiting Prague.  I clearly cannot cancel this. I suspect he will offer to pay but cannot be certain. I trot along to dinner resolving to eat as little as possible and not drink. Then I decide that I will have a drink, in case my not-drinking makes him assume that I am pregnant. Blimey, this is a minefield.

Total Monday spend:

• rank apple juice – 32 czk
• massive dinner out – 0 czk (in the end my boss made it very clear that this was on the company, so I had the proverbial lobster)

Tuesday

I am settling into the tedium of frugal living. Walk to work (free). Make breakfast (also free, although I am running low on almonds, apple and apple juice for the bircher muesli - will they last the week or will I end up eating dry oats?). By lunch time I am starving and my home-made lunch (very unappetising scrapings of tuna & bean salad – now three days old) is not tempting.   I just couldn’t face it so went out and spent 50 czk on soup at a nearby cafe. For anyone in Prague, this Expats.cz article on soup spots has made very interesting reading this week! 

In the evening I went to the gym (membership is free through work) and then came home and made soup for dinner and lunch for the next day.

The idea of spending the rest of the week working, cooking and sleeping bores me immensely. The rest of the week stretches out in front of me – punctuated only by meals of muesli and tuna and bean salad. This is not exactly rock n’ roll.

• 50 czk – soup at lunch
• 12 czk – 3 carrots for making soup

***

The week-long post threatened to become far too long, so I have split it into two. I am currently in  the middle of Project Frugal and have four days and 390 czk to go. I would welcome encouragement and any thoughts on cheap/free Prague activities (especially lunch-time places to go when you are penny-pinching).

Stay in touch for Part 2 – later this week!

Tune in here to see how my friends are doing on their challenges – based in Edinburgh and London

I went to M&S Food on Wenceslas Square.

I have avoided this for the past thirteen months for a few reasons. Part of me (the weird part that makes up demanding rules by which to live, according to hubby) thinks it’s a sign of failure to frequent such an English chain store in the Czech Republic. I feel I have somehow failed an unwritten expat-initiation test by not being able to decipher Czech signage or properly understand Czech shop assistants, or just by not wanting to buy solely Czech brands.

Perhaps more fundamentally, I avoided M&S food even in England, on the basis that it was overpriced (it still is), packaged in a non-environmentally friendly manner (it is) and encouraged people to put meals in the microwave rather than actually cook (also true).  I have clearly managed to leave all these concerns at the store’s very welcoming doors as on Monday night, I joined the expat masses in M&S.

It all started with a hunt for vanilla extract, which I could not find for love nor money in Tescos, Albert, Billa or any of the four different potraviny-s I went to on Sunday evening when I decided I wanted to make cookies. I already know that someone is going to leave a comment below saying ‘didn’t you know you can get vanilla extract at x?‘. NO! I clearly didn’t know. Which is why I succumbed to the evil empire of marks & sparks.

After Sunday’s vanilla extract failure, I thought I’d solve myself the well-documented pain of food shopping in Prague and decided to cave in completely and get all the cookie ingredients from M&S.

As I walked in I almost laughed. I don’t know why it took me by surprise as most multinationals operate this way now, but everything was identical. It was like being in M&S in Paternoster Square, or Clapham or Whetstone, or anywhere else.  The signage, the smell, the display, everything was the same. Even the customers were familiar: Bachelors grabbing a meal for one. Couples pretending that a two-person microwave meal and cheap bottle of wine is just as much fun as actually going out for dinner. Full-time house wives spending a second mortgage on ready-meals in order to keep pretending to their hard-working hubby that they actually can cook.

As much as I’m still a tad disappointed with myself (standards – both eco and personal – are clearly slipping) I got everything I needed and it was the nicest shopping experience I’ve had in ages. Shelves and shelves of things I recognised, in colourful branded packaging designed to play tricks with your mind and, crucially, vanilla extract. 

This all came at a price, however. If M&S food is on the expensive in the UK, it’s astronomical here.  I could eat for a week for the amount I spent on just a few items. I am about to bake the most expensive cookies in the whole world.

But I can rest easy, safe in the knowledge that now they won’t just be any cookies. They will be organic, over-priced,  over-packaged, English-speaking, white chocolate and cranberry expat cookies.  I’ll try to save you some.