По запросам дописываю, что не дописалось в оставшейся...

Upon request, I’m adding that it wasn’t added in the rest of Europe due to the lack of wi-fi. Immediately after the amazing, swift and charming Germany, we flew to the Czech Republic and the next morning crawled, thanks to Prague traffic jams, to the center of Prague, where all tourists walk. As always, we stopped a little away from this tourist center, not far from the dancing building (a fashionable local building with a hint of Gaudi, but incomparable). The first impression is like in Moscow or another large city where there is a historical center. Those. where the central square is, there are tourists, there are beautiful facades of buildings with red roofs and everything looks, though worn, but luxurious, even a little vulgar. But it is worth spitting a little to the side and on the same old buildings the facades are no longer as elegant as in the center, graffiti on the walls amazes the imagination with the utter quantity and tastelessness of local youth. Those. exponentially, devastation begins - everything is like ours. I do not argue, someone sees this as their charm, the spirit of those gypsies. that are full of different books and fairy tales. But in reality it all looks sad. Alas. The Germans would be driven there and they would have made candy from Prague ... or they would have scratched turnips and dumped them at home in Germany. But there is really good beer and it was from these parts that a magnificent mole came to us, who said "yuyu" to everything unfamiliar and whose cartoons were incomparable and looked at one go. Anka still remembered about Bolek and Lelik, but these characters were not found there. But what struck this city: if any of you have been to a Muslim country, you should know that when prayer begins there, then prayer starts from every mosque that is in every nook and cranny of the matyugal. In this city, something similar, only instead of prayer from a matyugalnik from the tops of the towers to the crowd below comes the trumpet fanfare. The sounds are very reminiscent of a children's film about Electronics, where he played on a spire of a tower on a horn for the whole city. In general, in terms of voice acting, this city is more unique. There is no electric cod traffic light that we have or in other cities in Europe. Traffic lights make the sounds of beats of one drumstick on another and at the beginning it is discouraging, but even before saying goodbye to Prague this sound did not work out. Speaking of towers, there are clouds here. Pieces 100, as was written in the travel guide in one of the tourist towers near the station. The sound of the beating of this tower, by the way, was also not ordinary. From such a tower you always expect a rumble of sonorous and powerful beating of domes, as from our temples. But then there was a ringing, as from a somn of triangles, small camarine tones of different tones. You can’t even call them loud and it’s not clear whether such a melody reaches passers-by walking with colorful umbrellas on rainy Prague. In short. Prague met us with rain, regaled us with rain and followed us with rain. Oh yes. For Chekhov, who can speak incredibly understandable English, they speak just like us, with the same emphasis and the same simple words. I have not heard a more understandable English from any other European. The next day was devoted to the road home. France - almost 1000 km, like Germany, flies in 1 day. Poland - 500 km and weaves the same way all day. But we saw three representatives of the local crane symbol in the nest. Such chicken actually. Well, then there was the customs, where everyone took the truth, the main thing is to say exactly the amount of alcohol that fits into the norm, and not which of all the cracks imperceptibly sticks out. Well, then Belarus with a motel, where we were met by an old creaking bed, in the restaurant of which there were real truckers with a sullen look eating chops with potatoes. Romance, blah, in short. Well, at the end of these changing species, the road between Smolensk and Moscow. It was a complete scribe. It was raining all the way, but in the very center of the road the weather completely rebelled and rained cubic tons of water on the roofs of cars, accompanying everything with lightning and all sorts of non-gentlemanly behavior. Although it was also beautiful, when the rain is drumming furiously on the roof, you fly as always