We met up with colleagues of my husband to attend a concert in Prague. We had some slips of paper besides the usual ticket, these entitled us to a ‘reception’ as his company had previously sponsored an event, it was a thank you. Well we had totally misjudged the occasion. There was a room up in the fabulous Rudolfinium, champagne and canapés before the performance. We thought it would a glass of warm white wine. The woman hosting, she was a total pro, she whispered to us who everyone was and asked if at the end of the performance we would like to come back to the reception room and meet the performers, who were a Jazz quartet from America.
We did just that, but did not realise we were with the Minister for Culture, the Director of the Rudolfinum and a whole host of Czech classical musical talent. The whispering continued with handshakes and introductions, my darling husband was cursing himself for not bringing with him copious amounts of business cards. There were staged photos with handshakes taking place. I was thinking that she must have mistaken us for someone important, but as the cold champagne slipped down and the delicious canapés were nibbled on, I managed to enjoy the moment looking up from the grand terrace to Prague Castle. I did learn that if you live in Prague 1, an area of the city, it is thought of that you are part of a special village community – bar the tourists of course. It was a very lovely evening, despite me feeling a bit out of place.
The next day I went to a newcomers lunch. I was running late, so took the Metro when I normally take the tram. There was a very glamourous women stood near me on the platform, she looked exotic, beautifully groomed, you know the type that what ever you are wearing, no matter how good you felt when you left the house, you now feel dowdy. I arrived at the restaurant, ended up sitting next to said glamorous woman, she too was a part of this group and decided to attend. We got talking and she is part Mexican, part Spanish, hence the extraordinary beauty. When asked by someone on the table which part of England I came from, I replied, between Oxford and Newbury. Madam super glamourous got her phone out and showed me a text from her first husband, who was English. It read: I am in Camp Hopson, do you need anything?’ This is a Newbury department store, that’s family owned. Turned out her first husband is a big deal at Newbury Racecourse. The net closed in and we knew a few places and people, please remind yourself, she is from Mexico and we are in a restaurant sat next to each other in PRAGUE! All quite by chance, there were more than twenty women at this meeting so I could have easily let this opportunity pass me by. We got the Metro home together, chatted some more and realised we live 4 minutes walk from each other, I am hoping we can became friends, and as I write this, I am in the hairdressers, trying to improve my image. It would never do to feel dowdy!