As always, keep the replies coming! Not too long now and I'll be back home on Australian soil, wondering what the hell to do with myself, so I looking forward to seeing a lot of you soon!
Disclaimer: These emails may be misleading
So my parents tell me I'm giving the impression that I am attempting to destroy my liver on this trip. And after the Irish episode I can understand how you think that...
Do not worry! I actually don't drink that much (with some notable exceptions). In fact the vast majority of my time is spent in museums, talking to people and just generally walking around. Unfortunately none of this makes for good reading. Phrases like "In London I went to the museum and stared at rocks for 2 hours" are not terribly inspiring.
So fret less! I will return home in one piece and without any addictions! That you're going to find out about anyway...
India editions
A big shout out to the other holder of the only 2 Palunawack shirts in existence, Mr Mark J. Lucas, who has been doing stellar work spreading the gospel of Palunawack to the Indian masses. The Taj Mahal will never be the same again!
Our unplanned campaign for accidental world domination continues...
Scotland!
The ferry over from Ireland to Glasgow wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected - after the one to Malta I was bracing myself for several hours of near-death sea sickness with the occasional unscheduled flight across the cabin when we hit a nasty wave. As it was we had a nice trip and me and Mum found ourselves under one of the most dramatic skies I've had the privilege of seeing. An auspicious welcome to another land of my forfathers.
Hooray for Biagmy!
We found out this year that my Mum's grandfather had two families - one in Australia and one back home in Scotland. Needless to say this was a bit of a surprise to the distant cousin who was doing some family tree research, but my family being how we are, this was considered pretty hilarious and we ended up getting in contact with the 'new relatives'. All of which ended with me and Mum getting an invitation to visit them while we were in town.
The plan was to hire a car, and I was impressed to find out Mum had already arranged one before we arrived, thus showing more fore-planning than I have for my entire trip. And in accordance with Murphy's Law, this naturally backfired.
We ordered a small car. We got a van. With no side windows. Anyone who knows my Mum can probably guess what came next, and I was treated to a great opportunity to compare her conflict resolution techniques to my own:
Gordon: speak calmly, commiserate with the person, get them onside and ask them to help me out.
Mum: spend several minutes tearing shreds off the operator until they flee in terror and their supervisor gives you what you want.
Mum wins.
Two hours later in our nice new small car, we met up with the new relatives near Glasgow. Mum was curious to see if they were going to be anything like us, and if energetic, welcoming and generous are things you'd associate with the Saliba clan then yes, they were.
Stirling nightlife - not the good kind of stirling
Stirling is a historically significant town where William Wallace killed a lot of English. There's a memorial and it was all well worth seeing, the Scottish (along with most of the english-speaking world) being very enthusiastic about any killing of the English in a historical context. It's rather frowned upon now unless it's done at a football game.
As it was this was my first taste of Scottish night-life, so I ventured out to check it out. The fact I spend most of the night stone-cold sober hanging out with a busker gives you an idea of what I thought. Frankly, it felt like home. It was something about the girls carrying their shoes around, the guys walking into bins, and the endless queue of people screaming "Oasis!" at the busker that really connected with my inner bogan.
One small complication to the situation was that I was wearing my Rovers hoodie. Rovers are the old section of Scouts back home, easily confused with the football team 'The Rangers', who have very strong connections to the Protestant/Catholic disagreement that defines a dozen interesting wars throughout Europe. Happily, drunken Scots aren't too hard to confuse, giving me plenty of time to run away.
You take the high road while I gape at the scenery
The Glen Coe valleys and Ben Nevis, Scotland's largest mountain officially go down as some of the most amazing landscapes I have ever seen, and I have seen a few. Go there. There's something about the rolling, treeless, yet sheer mountains that connected with something in me pretty deeply. If only it didn't rain so much, I could have spent a week on those hills.
We compromised by climbing Ben Nevis and me and Mum got some pretty odd looks as we powered past the crowd in t-shirts. Normally being under-dressed in hostile conditions doesn't worry me, but the people coming back down the hill looked like they'd just returned from Everest Basecamp. Turns out they were right. Apparently the summit of Scotland's largest mountain gets about 20 days a year when it's not covered in cloud and today was not one of them. We decided to job back down the mountain...
$^%!* Volvo Drivers!
Bad driving is nothing new for me in Europe but this guy was pretty impressive - driving 50 kmh in a 80 zone, while weaving just enough to make passing him risky. Imagine my joy then when I noticed that he was not only a Volvo driver, but he had the Volvo Hat sitting on the back seat. The Ringwood High boys will enjoy that. I laughed for half an hour.
Surprise Australians
Throughout the whole trip I've been getting email along the lines of "I'm in europe! are you anywhere near? Let's catch up!". Naturally this usually means there's 3 to 4 countries between us, so it's never really happened. I knew Rowan was in Scotland somewhere, but it was still a pretty awesome surprise to walk into him in the hostel at Inverness, the nearest town to Loch Ness. We chatted for most of the night and arranged to catch up again in Edinburgh. As it turns out, I could have done with the extra sleep, because tomorrow I was to tackle my greatest foe once again...
Whoever designed the manual car can go and...etc.
Which was one of then many things I muttered under my breath as we stalled, mashed gears and bunny-hopped across the north coast. Generally, the open road was fine, but throw up a set of traffic lights, tight corner, or the ultimate challenge: a roundabout, and it was a mess. Mum was not impressed. Naturally I thought it was all pretty funny.
Oh, and a warning should you ever be in Scotland and think that standing stones are a great historic thing to see. Don't bother. After a 15 minutes detour and much anticipation we drove straight past the things. Not usually a good sign if you were expecting Stonehenge.
Edinburgh!
Me and Mum had an incredible trick on our tour of turning up for the major local events for each town, 3 days after they had happened. It was uncanny, we must have done it five times in a row. So I was pretty happy to find out we were getting to Edinburgh in time for the last week of the world-famous Edinburgh Festival. The street performers were great, as were the various exhibitions they had on, including the highlight of an entire orchestra made up of tradies using their tools. Very cool.
Mum left me at this point to head off on a tour of eastern europe. This presented us with a problem. I had to drive us to the airport, and then back to the hostel for the company to pick up the hire car. And it was raining. Heavily.
Somehow the predictable nightmare scenario never eventuated and I made it back in one piece, however nature threw a couple of challenges my way:
- Rain. But not just any rain! The heaviest downpour in a decade, causing widespread flooding! Hearing a news reporter recommending you avoid all unnecessary car travel while trying not to stall is not for the faint hearted.
- Breaks in the Space-time continuum. There is one road in Edinburgh that defies the laws of physics. At one end, left is east and west is right. At then other end, without any notable turns, it's the other way around. I drove this road 4 times and still cannot figure out what happens. I am baffled. But after the first 2 times I chose to suspend disbelief and didn't get lost.
I wish.
It was sad to see Mum off after a pretty good time together, but at least I knew she was going to enjoy her tour, even if she didn't at the time. It was great of the folks to take the trouble to visit me, but that's the kind of parents I have. Excellent service!
Mates!
So for the first time since I arrived in Ireland two months ago, I was shacked up in a hostel in Edinburgh, and set about getting in touch with two good mates.
First up was Rowan, who invited me to a get-to-know-you party for new international students from his friend's university. 12 months ago being at at party I so obviously had nothing to do with would have made me feel awkward. Not any more. Having got myself into this sort of situation regularly for the whole trip, I was in my element.
As two young Aussie males will do when they haven't seen each other for a while, me and Rowan were looking for trouble. So when we found the drinks lift from the kitchen, it wasn't long before we were sending down notes requesting "A cheese and mustard sandwich for the Manager and make it snappy". It may have been our handwriting didn't match the manager's or perhaps the fact the note was written on a coaster, but no luck.
2 hours later at closing time I found Rowan stealing alcopops from the same lift. When I asked him what he was going to do with them, his very philosophical reply was "Steal them". That's the kind of night it was...
Next was Alison, someone who's been expecting me to visit pretty much since May. She looked after me for pretty much the rest of my stay there, including quite a few big nights at the local pub, the fireworks for the end of the Edinburgh Festival, and 2 rather unexpected but surprisingly enjoyable visits to the local heavy metal bar. There's something amazingly refreshing about staggering off the dance floor with 5 decent bruises on you. And getting hit on by a 7 foot tall gay punk was certainly an exciting, if terrifying experience. More running followed.
Where is the beer?!
One of the strangest things about Edinburgh - and being a perfectly preserved medieval town, it has quite a few - is the smell. There is a permanent smell of hops, thanks to the brewery just out of town. This was just the right combination of bread smell and beer smell to drive me into a near frenzy every time I went outside. And while beer was never too far away, much to my horror the UK does not to bakeries. Sliced white loaf or nothing! The horror...
Other quirky features of Edinburgh include:
- The Disgrace of Scotland - up on the hill near the town is what looks like a Greek ruin. Apparently it was going to be a war memorial, but since every time they got one of the 14 pillars upright the builders had a big party, they ran out of cash and it never got finished. True Scottish style.
- Bag pipers - The first one I saw was novel. After seeing 15 of them in one day, I became suspicious. It turns out the Edinburgh tourist board actually employs these guys to add ambiance. And a hell of a lot of noise.
- Arthur's seat - the huge extinct volcano within walking distance from the town centre gives brilliant views and a pretty challenging climb for those who chose to ignore the signs and climb the cliff face up the west side. Especially exciting when you get halfway up and realise those signs were there for a reason.
WWOOFing, mark 2.
Having had such a good time in France I figured I'd give this farming caper a shot in Scotland as well. And for some reason I had a hankering to work with animals. Odd that.
So I applied online and got a positive response for a cattle farm at a little town called Dunoon, north of Glasgow. So far, so good. What I didn't plan on was getting a call asking if I could get there 2 days early? Eager to please as always, I figured I'd hire a car and head out there that very night.
Guess what sort of car was available? I nearly cried.
Of all the things I recommend you DO NOT DO in Glasgow, stalling a manual car five times in a row on a freeway on-ramp is probably number one.
An hour later, I'm out in the country and mercifully away from very angry Glasweigans. Time to check some directions, so I pull over off the side of the road, check my place on the map and go to reverse back onto the road. Pretty easy right? Except I can't find reverse. It's right there on the gear stick, but despite nearly snapping the thing in half I can't get it into gear. This is embarrassing. Faced with the option of flagging down a car, I find myself pushing the car by hand back onto the road. As if this wasn't bad enough, the mountains around here mean all I pick up is BBC 4's radio theater of Shakespeare's 'Edward II', who chooses this precise moment to be executed by having a red-hot poker stuck up his arse, scaring the absolute buggery out of my (excuse the pun).
Finally I limp into town, find the farm, and get a few hours of sleep in before an early start with the chickens. Hooray.
The urgent rush for me to get out to the farm was so I could turn the hay over, keeping it dry and preventing it from spoiling - this meant using a tractor. I've done it a few times before so this was no problems, and me and the boss, Thea, settled down into a pretty good rhythm with her going off to work each day and me messing about with the tractors and the hay.
The locals are still talking about it...
Remember I wanted to work with animals? Should have been careful what I wished for.
Thea had four highland cows; two calves and their mothers and I had to go and fetch a trailer out of their pen. Sadly I forgot the part about closing the gate after me and 15 minutes later found all four happily eating grass next to the road.
Now at this point it's not a big deal. They're right next to their field, right? Easy to scare them back into the pen. Apparently cows don't think like me because they bolted off down the road. I'm now slightly concerned, so I jump the fence, circle around in front of them and scare them back the other way. Cows completely ignore the gate and go down the road the other direction. Directly into the hay field. Holy crap.
There is a years worth of hay in this field but something tells me the cows aren't going to ration it out. There's only one entry to this field over a bridge. If I go in that way they'll just run in further and then I'm screwed. So I bite the bullet, wade through the river, jump another fence and manage to scare the cows out again. By now the poor things are pretty scared of this mad creature swearing in a strange accent and take off at full speed down the road.
This is not going well. I do the obvious thing and close all the gates and then sit down for a think. Finally I get my brains in order, fetch the feed bowls and lure the cows back into their pen. Feeling rather smug, I jumped back in the tractor, drove back onto the field and forgot to raise the forks, leaving two massive scrape marks along the road. Further swearing ensured.
After that everything went pretty well at Stonefield farm. We got the hay in alright, met a few locals and generally had a good country rest. And then on the last day, as a parting goodbye, I put the tractor into a ditch.
Thea had warned me about this ditch, so happily she had gone to work for the day and didn't get a chance to pull my ear off. So how do you remove a 4 tonne tractor from a ditch? It says something about how agitated I was that I attempted to tow it out with another tractor and a rope for a while before realising that the only thing that was going to happen here was the rope was going to snap and kill me. Eventually I managed to get it out by shoving half a tree into the ditch under the wheel and make a quiet escape.
Victory!
From the farm, I was off to visit some more relatives, in a small town nearby. It wasn't until I had been driving for about half an hour that I realised I was driving a manual car and I hadn't stalled it yet. In fact, it turns out that ever since working with tractors for a week, I am now a completely competent manual car driver! Victory is mine!
Visiting the relatives was an interesting experience. This is the branch of my Mum's family that never left Scotland, have been living in the same house ever since a distant ancestor built it with his own hands, and don't leave the local town if they can help it. I was warmly welcomed once they figured out the strange foreigner asleep in their driveway was actually a relative, and was congratulated on being 'very clannish'. Tea and a couple of biscuits later and I was headed back to Edinburgh.
Visa troubles - with the Swiss of course.
Long time readers will remember I was detained by Swiss customs when I left for Ireland, having stayed 15 days too long in mainland Europe. My confusion about what exactly was going on was not helped by them sending me a letter explaining everything to my home address in Australia. And just to make sure everything was absolutely clear, the letter was in German.
Dad received the letter and had a German-speaking friend translate it, just in time to find out I was two weeks late to respond to their final deadline for an appeal.
Finally after a dozen emails to government departments and embassies we figured it all out:
I am officially banned in Switzerland! My first criminal record! Woohoo!
Until I pay a fine of about $500 AUS I am down as a foreigner with a criminal record in Switzerland. I cleverly got around this challenge by going to Austria instead.
Unfortunately it also turned out I had to wait another week before I was allowed back onto mainland Europe. But I'd had enough of Edinburgh so decided to go anyway.
Vienna
I've been meaning to go to Austria ever since I met a bunch of Austrian Scouts all the way back in May in a German castle. How I ended up in that castle I'm still not entirely sure, but it ended with me getting an offer to visit some friends in Vienna.
So now in October, I jump on a plane, somehow get through passport control without them noticing I'm technically an illegal immigrant, and arrive on Schabbi's doorstep that night.
Man I missed the continent. I didn't realise it until I came back, but there's something about being in a country that doesn't speak the same language as you that makes everything that much more exciting. Suddenly you have to pay attention to everything. Also, the Austrians know how to make bread really really well. I was a happy man.
Shabbi did a great job of showing me around the place, including taking me out to many of the 92 museums in Vienna (they have a museum for everything, including a pastry museum, toy museum, abortion and birth control museum, and a museum dedicated to a mad queen), a wedding lunch, an anti-development protest camp, and a new local film that I insisted on going to even though I had no idea what was going on.
Vienna is quite amazing for it's architecture. In addition to the beautiful style of architecture throughout the area, the city also boasts a number of WW2 air defense towers. When the government tried to demolish these massive concrete pillars after the war, the explosion required broke windows for 2 kilometers around. So they just left them there. One of them now houses an aquarium.
But by far the best thing Shabbi did for me was to sit me down and make me a list of all the eastern European countries I had to see while I was still on the continent. As far as she was concerned my original plan to go straight back to Germany was simply unacceptable. One cannot come all the way to Europe without seeing the east.
She was very persuasive.
Spontaneous communism
When I was planning my euro trip I had decided that eastern Europe would be too difficult and too dangerous to tackle on my own when all I spoke was english. Turns out I was misinformed.
My quick tour through four countries over the iron curtain showed me some of the most culturally intense, affordable, friendly and best serviced locations in Europe.
Budapest, Hungary
Budapest apparently had it pretty easy during communist rule, compared to the other satellite states. This might be the reason it's the only ex-communist state that kept all the propaganda statues and put them into a cool little park. Pretty awesome to wander among the relics and get a couple of photos with Stalin. I seem to be putting together a few 'I love communism' photos on this trip. No doubt the CIA is collecting a file as we speak. Hell I could have added them to this email list by now for all I know.
Having had such a good time in France I figured I'd give this farming caper a shot in Scotland as well. And for some reason I had a hankering to work with animals. Odd that.
So I applied online and got a positive response for a cattle farm at a little town called Dunoon, north of Glasgow. So far, so good. What I didn't plan on was getting a call asking if I could get there 2 days early? Eager to please as always, I figured I'd hire a car and head out there that very night.
Guess what sort of car was available? I nearly cried.
Of all the things I recommend you DO NOT DO in Glasgow, stalling a manual car five times in a row on a freeway on-ramp is probably number one.
An hour later, I'm out in the country and mercifully away from very angry Glasweigans. Time to check some directions, so I pull over off the side of the road, check my place on the map and go to reverse back onto the road. Pretty easy right? Except I can't find reverse. It's right there on the gear stick, but despite nearly snapping the thing in half I can't get it into gear. This is embarrassing. Faced with the option of flagging down a car, I find myself pushing the car by hand back onto the road. As if this wasn't bad enough, the mountains around here mean all I pick up is BBC 4's radio theater of Shakespeare's 'Edward II', who chooses this precise moment to be executed by having a red-hot poker stuck up his arse, scaring the absolute buggery out of my (excuse the pun).
Finally I limp into town, find the farm, and get a few hours of sleep in before an early start with the chickens. Hooray.
The urgent rush for me to get out to the farm was so I could turn the hay over, keeping it dry and preventing it from spoiling - this meant using a tractor. I've done it a few times before so this was no problems, and me and the boss, Thea, settled down into a pretty good rhythm with her going off to work each day and me messing about with the tractors and the hay.
The locals are still talking about it...
Remember I wanted to work with animals? Should have been careful what I wished for.
Thea had four highland cows; two calves and their mothers and I had to go and fetch a trailer out of their pen. Sadly I forgot the part about closing the gate after me and 15 minutes later found all four happily eating grass next to the road.
Now at this point it's not a big deal. They're right next to their field, right? Easy to scare them back into the pen. Apparently cows don't think like me because they bolted off down the road. I'm now slightly concerned, so I jump the fence, circle around in front of them and scare them back the other way. Cows completely ignore the gate and go down the road the other direction. Directly into the hay field. Holy crap.
There is a years worth of hay in this field but something tells me the cows aren't going to ration it out. There's only one entry to this field over a bridge. If I go in that way they'll just run in further and then I'm screwed. So I bite the bullet, wade through the river, jump another fence and manage to scare the cows out again. By now the poor things are pretty scared of this mad creature swearing in a strange accent and take off at full speed down the road.
This is not going well. I do the obvious thing and close all the gates and then sit down for a think. Finally I get my brains in order, fetch the feed bowls and lure the cows back into their pen. Feeling rather smug, I jumped back in the tractor, drove back onto the field and forgot to raise the forks, leaving two massive scrape marks along the road. Further swearing ensured.
After that everything went pretty well at Stonefield farm. We got the hay in alright, met a few locals and generally had a good country rest. And then on the last day, as a parting goodbye, I put the tractor into a ditch.
Thea had warned me about this ditch, so happily she had gone to work for the day and didn't get a chance to pull my ear off. So how do you remove a 4 tonne tractor from a ditch? It says something about how agitated I was that I attempted to tow it out with another tractor and a rope for a while before realising that the only thing that was going to happen here was the rope was going to snap and kill me. Eventually I managed to get it out by shoving half a tree into the ditch under the wheel and make a quiet escape.
Victory!
From the farm, I was off to visit some more relatives, in a small town nearby. It wasn't until I had been driving for about half an hour that I realised I was driving a manual car and I hadn't stalled it yet. In fact, it turns out that ever since working with tractors for a week, I am now a completely competent manual car driver! Victory is mine!
Visiting the relatives was an interesting experience. This is the branch of my Mum's family that never left Scotland, have been living in the same house ever since a distant ancestor built it with his own hands, and don't leave the local town if they can help it. I was warmly welcomed once they figured out the strange foreigner asleep in their driveway was actually a relative, and was congratulated on being 'very clannish'. Tea and a couple of biscuits later and I was headed back to Edinburgh.
Visa troubles - with the Swiss of course.
Long time readers will remember I was detained by Swiss customs when I left for Ireland, having stayed 15 days too long in mainland Europe. My confusion about what exactly was going on was not helped by them sending me a letter explaining everything to my home address in Australia. And just to make sure everything was absolutely clear, the letter was in German.
Dad received the letter and had a German-speaking friend translate it, just in time to find out I was two weeks late to respond to their final deadline for an appeal.
Finally after a dozen emails to government departments and embassies we figured it all out:
I am officially banned in Switzerland! My first criminal record! Woohoo!
Until I pay a fine of about $500 AUS I am down as a foreigner with a criminal record in Switzerland. I cleverly got around this challenge by going to Austria instead.
Unfortunately it also turned out I had to wait another week before I was allowed back onto mainland Europe. But I'd had enough of Edinburgh so decided to go anyway.
Vienna
I've been meaning to go to Austria ever since I met a bunch of Austrian Scouts all the way back in May in a German castle. How I ended up in that castle I'm still not entirely sure, but it ended with me getting an offer to visit some friends in Vienna.
So now in October, I jump on a plane, somehow get through passport control without them noticing I'm technically an illegal immigrant, and arrive on Schabbi's doorstep that night.
Man I missed the continent. I didn't realise it until I came back, but there's something about being in a country that doesn't speak the same language as you that makes everything that much more exciting. Suddenly you have to pay attention to everything. Also, the Austrians know how to make bread really really well. I was a happy man.
Shabbi did a great job of showing me around the place, including taking me out to many of the 92 museums in Vienna (they have a museum for everything, including a pastry museum, toy museum, abortion and birth control museum, and a museum dedicated to a mad queen), a wedding lunch, an anti-development protest camp, and a new local film that I insisted on going to even though I had no idea what was going on.
Vienna is quite amazing for it's architecture. In addition to the beautiful style of architecture throughout the area, the city also boasts a number of WW2 air defense towers. When the government tried to demolish these massive concrete pillars after the war, the explosion required broke windows for 2 kilometers around. So they just left them there. One of them now houses an aquarium.
But by far the best thing Shabbi did for me was to sit me down and make me a list of all the eastern European countries I had to see while I was still on the continent. As far as she was concerned my original plan to go straight back to Germany was simply unacceptable. One cannot come all the way to Europe without seeing the east.
She was very persuasive.
Spontaneous communism
When I was planning my euro trip I had decided that eastern Europe would be too difficult and too dangerous to tackle on my own when all I spoke was english. Turns out I was misinformed.
My quick tour through four countries over the iron curtain showed me some of the most culturally intense, affordable, friendly and best serviced locations in Europe.
Budapest, Hungary
Budapest apparently had it pretty easy during communist rule, compared to the other satellite states. This might be the reason it's the only ex-communist state that kept all the propaganda statues and put them into a cool little park. Pretty awesome to wander among the relics and get a couple of photos with Stalin. I seem to be putting together a few 'I love communism' photos on this trip. No doubt the CIA is collecting a file as we speak. Hell I could have added them to this email list by now for all I know.
The best sight in Budapest? The inside of the world-famous Turkish Baths. Nothing like a nice soak in a thermal pool after walking around all day in 32 degrees. Spectacular.
And I went to the opera. It wasn't really on my program, but one of the girls at the hostel, Una, walked into the common room in a cocktail dress and I ended up getting an invitation. Just as well I brought my suit! A lovely night all round. I feel cultured.
Ljubljana, Slovenia
If you can find this place on a map I'll give you a coconut. I had no idea where it was, but since this is where one of my Austrian friends has recently moved, off I went. As it turns out, this is one funky little town, featuring one of the most amazing nightspots I've seen on the whole trip.
Tobi picked me up from the hostel and took me out to Metelkova. The best way to describe this for people who have followed these Episodes from the really early days, is it's a small version of Christiania in Denmark. If you don't know Christiania, think massive hippy town.
Metelkova has five complete music halls, two art galleries and one hell of a lot of marijuana. I didn't touch it, but as usual, I didn't need to. I am to marijuana smoke what a 12 year old is to caffeine. So the night was pretty great!
Metelkova has five complete music halls, two art galleries and one hell of a lot of marijuana. I didn't touch it, but as usual, I didn't need to. I am to marijuana smoke what a 12 year old is to caffeine. So the night was pretty great!
The next day me and Tobi were both feeling pretty average, so we went to the market for brunch. If someone had told me at the start of the trip I would find myself half-stoned, hungover and eating a horse burger in 10 months, I would have been rather skeptical. I also would have been wrong. Horse is a kinda greasy combination of beef and pork - not the greatest decision I've made recently.
So fueled by horse and a strong aversion to daylight, we decided to check out the castle up on the hill. The front door was far too obvious so we decided to check out a small garden in the moat and were surprised to find a door down there. We were even more surprised to find it lead through to the basement, that the basement had a staircase, and that the staircase led all the way to the function room on the roof.
So after hanging around on the roof for 15 minutes or so, we strolled out through the 5 star restaurant into the castle and had a look around. And then we noticed everyone was very well dressed. Too well dressed you might say. And why is that woman wearing so much white? Oh crap.
Yeah we wandered straight through a wedding reception. Happily no one noticed us and we were too out of it to realise what was going on until we had left, so no harm done, except a bit of anxiety for me and Tobi.
Krakow, Poland
Slovenia to Poland is not a short train trip, so when I arrived at Krakow at 5am I was happy to find a bed all ready for me at the hostel. And this place was great - not only was it practically empty, had a great breakfast included, plus free internet, and the staff were the friendliest I've met on this trip. They not only answered every question I had, but shared vodka with me and took me out on the town, ironically to another get-to-know-you party for new university students. As we stumbled back to the hostel I mentioned it was getting pretty cold considering it had been 32 degrees in Hungary only a few days ago. One of the staff joked that if I was lucky I might even see snow.
Sure enough, the next morning it was snowing. And happily, all my pants were in the wash, meaning I got the unique experience of having an entire Polish town stare at me as I wandered around in shorts all day. Since most Polish women seem to do the same thing wearing tights, I found this a little surprising. Apparently my legs weren't quite up to Polish standards, which I must admit, are very high.
Given Poland's unhappy history under the Nazi's and then the Communists, there's plenty of history here, including a guided tour of the only purpose designed communist city, including a tank. And I also had the privilege of visiting Auschwitz. No need to go into details, but you can still smell something burning at that site. We should all visit a place like this once, just so we know what life can really be like.
Brno, Czech Republic
Kati is another friend I met in that German castle who I had seen again in Vienna. She invited me to come and visit her for her Dad's birthday party. Who could say no?
I knew I'd made a good decision when I was ushered to the dinner table as soon as I walked in through the front door and delivered a massive bowl of beef stew. What with horse-burgers and all I hadn't been doing too well as a vegetarian, so I figured I didn't have much to lose. It's just as well I took that attitude too because I have never eaten so much meat in one day before as I did here.
Kati is a pretty crazy girl, and when her family got together to party I could see it was a bit of a family trait. The night started with vodka, continued with 3 courses of meat, and finished with a lot of beer and dancing, featuring one of the best blues bands I've ever seen, fronted by a white Czech guy who sounded uncannily like a black version of Elvis. Yeah it was weird, but good!
We wound up back at Kati's parent's place where the family had all come to stay for the party and had a good chat. Apparently all that meat after so long as a mainly-vegetarian did something to me because I decided to take advantage of all this incredible hospitality by sleep-walking!
The first thing I knew about it, I was standing upright (thankfully still clothed) in someone else's bedroom, facing the wall behind the door, with someone telling me to "Get out!". Aparently I had been there for a while too, because when we discussed it all the next morning I was already there when the couple woke up. If anyone elseout there knows of me sleepwalking please let me know. This is freaking me out!
Prague, Czech Republic
Hmm, Prague. What to say about this conundrum of a place? On the one hand you have the castle, incredible buildings and bridges and probably the largest number of galleries I've ever seen in one street. And on the other hand you have the place where I was offered more drugs than I would have believed possible.
You're dancing away in a nightclub (and eastern Europe has some pretty good ones) and a lovely lady comes over your way. Things are looking good and then she asks you, totally openly:
"Would you like to buy me some toilet powder?"
Um. What?
When I eventually figured out she was talking about cocain I decided it was home time. In the 4 days I was there I was offered pretty much everything there was to offer, which went a long way to explaining why everyone danced so strangely.
Beyond this the place is remarkable and well worth a look. During the communist era they had a world's largest statue of Stalin on the hill. When they pulled this down, they needed a replacement that was refined, exciting and symbolic of the city. So they went with the giant metronome.
This thing is hilarious. I could watch the damn thing all day if it wasn't so cold. And it was cold. After that nice kick of summer in Budapest, winter was getting some revenge.
All in all eastern Europe is brilliant. I'll have to come back again for longer next time, and the best part is, you can afford it! This one month, including flights, cost me less than a month in the uk.
Back on the boarderline - Berlin and Dusseldorf
So after this delightful unplanned tour of eastern Europe, I was back in Berlin to visit some friends and to see a bit more of one of the most interesting cities in Europe. This was my third time in Berlin, at three different times of year and it's right what they say; it's amazing how quickly it changes.
Unfortunately most of the guys I met my first time in Berlin back in April weren't in town, but Sandra had me around for dinner, a catch-up and a poker tournament. It was great to see her again, even if it did involve losing all my money to her.
It was a good time to be in Berlin in any case and I managed to catch some of the special celebrations for the 20th anniversary of the fall of the wall. Quite a monumental occasion.
My final stop for Germany and the continent was Dusseldorf. As always Wiebke was great fun and since I had plenty of time on my hands (not having to rush to Malta this time) she showed me around the sights properly this time.
It turns out Dusseldorf has a beach! Despite the fact it doesn't have a coastline, those industrious Germans have built a beach on the river bank. On the one side you have a great view of barges going past, on the other a series of factories, and then there's the added bonus that if you go more than 5 meters into the water you will inevitably drown in the powerful current. A fun day for all the family!
The Media quarter on the other hand is far more impressive, as were the many cafe and micro-breweries around town. All in all it was a great way to end my stay.
Next stop, England. A only slightly delayed by 7 months or so.
Photos and videos
I've finally got my act together - all the photos are now up to date. Check them out. What cheer!
Gordon
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