Author: Elda Hamaker

I was riding the tram. I was without a ticket. I was broke. I was foolish. I should have walked. The inevitable happened. A man approached with a golden metal badge. My heart sank. I knew better than to dismiss him with an airy wave of the hand, saying, “No, no, no, and I don’t want any of your Bohemian glass, Russian hats…” I’d made the mistake of thinking they were trying to sell me something before. {loadposition content_adsensecontent} The inspection of tickets, or ‘controlling’ is curious in Prague, as it must be one of the few transport networks...