We sat around a table that the hotel had put aside for us. I am pretty sure we had the place to ourselves; who else would stay at a mountain lodge in the Northwest of the Czech Republic, during the week, during a snow storm? The table was prepared with all kinds of traditional Czech Christmas dishes: fried, bone-in carp, seasoned potato salad, pork cutlets with purple saurkraut and bread dumplings (I had to push that to the other side of the table), rolls with butter and sour cream. It was a delicious meal, but it was also bitter sweet; in two days, we’d be leaving for other parts of Europe, or for home, with the possibility that we’d never see each other again. Being in Prague for the winter season was not favorable for others, but it was desirable for me, and allowed me to experience Christmastime in another country. Our group was special, everyone knew it. We were meant to have that time together. We were meant to have that night.
