Prague is still around.

It’s a nice looking town. People take pictures of it.

Oh, hey, I know those people.

Off in the distance there are babies on a radio tower.

A bit closer is a chair in a tree.

Alvin poses in front of the wrong tree.

Kostas doesn’t tell him.

Hey, that’s a lot of work people!

We don’t want to get involved in any wasp nests.

So Joakim and I climb a mountain.

And take pictures of the darkness.

They come out dark.

I get terribly ill.

And life becomes a never-ending parade of room service trays.

This is highly disappointing.

All I can do is gaze out of my hotel room window.

And dream of surfing.

I’m still quite sick when I have to drag myself back to the train.