When travelling in a country where you don't know the language, one has 3 options.
Option A: go to the tourist zones. They speak english, and deal with the likes of you, day in, day out.
Option B: Go where the locals go. This will usually involve lots of helpless shrugging, pointing, and eating weird food. Yesterday I asked for the English menu, and they gave me one in German - which was still more compreshensible than the menu in Czech.
(footnote a:) you will feel like an ass.
Option C: Subsist on coffee and cigarettes for as long as you can. When your hunger overpowers your fear of ineviatable humiliation, proceed to option a or b, depending on geographic proximity, but not before making a long detour at footnote a.
I'm an option C man, myself.
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