Nowhere to live as of February. Worst (or best?) case scenario, I'll end up coming home unexpectedly early. Don't think that's at all likely though, as much as I miss Oz. And now, some wise words from Colin:
"OK, it might seem really obvious, but the best thing
about living in Scandinavia is that you can keep your
beer out on the balcony and it's colder than if you
keep it in the fridge. Just have to be careful it
doesn't freeze and explode, but so far so good....."
Saturday, December 14, 2002
Hey, Claire's now in Denmark with us; joined us after a trip to Norway (Colin & I also went to Oslo though I had to return early due to school obligations). Went skiing in Oslo - very exciting. Have just passed the 4th level of my Danish course - 7 levels to go. Today is sunny and suprisingly warm at 3 degrees. Will abrubtly end this uninspired message.
Wednesday, November 27, 2002
Wednesday, October 23, 2002
Here's a short summary of our recent trip to Amsterdam, by Colin Larter (AKA Bobnob):
Good morning everybody
We have just returned from a sojourn to the delightful
city of Amsterdam; the windmills and tulips were
lovely, and the countless museums captivating.
Oddly enough, many of the people walking the
picturesque streets seemed to be dazed, and not
appreciative of the superb renaissance architecture, I
can't imagine why.
Farewell
the Dread Pirate Rogerson
Lord of the High Seas
Queen of Australia
Good morning everybody
We have just returned from a sojourn to the delightful
city of Amsterdam; the windmills and tulips were
lovely, and the countless museums captivating.
Oddly enough, many of the people walking the
picturesque streets seemed to be dazed, and not
appreciative of the superb renaissance architecture, I
can't imagine why.
Farewell
the Dread Pirate Rogerson
Lord of the High Seas
Queen of Australia
Wednesday, September 25, 2002
Have started Danish classes. So far there have been no strange and confusing experiences with Romanian people, for which I count myself fortunate. Today, Loth, Adam & I went to Kronborg slot in Helsingør (AKA Elsinor - Hamlet's castle, which, by the way, never actually housed royalty but merely collected shipping tolls from Sweden). That makes 3 times that I've visited the outside but not actually entered the building. With more Aussies coming to visit us next month though, I figure I'll probably make it back there again. Buggered my knee yesterday in a small cycling incident involving me and a large palate. You'll be relieved to know that the palate's doing just fine. Here's some words on cucumbers and gravestones from Colin:
Evening All. What's going down?
I'm still working on the cucumber farm for another
couple of weeks, after which I will be free!
The cucumber work has been more varied of late, which
is good for my (in)sanity. We cut down all the vines
over the period of about a month, and then replanted
all 42000 of the bastards. (That's a lot of cucumber
plants, it takes a good few minutes to walk from one
end of the greenhouses to the other) That was a bit
more than a month ago, since then we have been winding
the plants up strings, and tying the strings up in the
first place, and pulling the shoots off the plants and
blah blah blah cucumbers blah.....and spraying
fungicide on them all. This job sucks coz the hose is
very heavy and its my job to drag it behind the guy
pushing the spray rig and it sucks, blah blah blah
cucumbers blah blah.......
Anyhoo, Elena has a job working for the Danish
government. They don't pay her very much, but she
doesn't do any work, so that's OK. They're also
sending her to Danish school in the hope that she'll
get a job and they won't have to give her money
anymore. It works out fair though coz the amount I pay
in tax she gets from the dole. 38% tax I tells ya,
bastards!!
Last weekend we went the Skagen, which is as far north
as you can go in Denmark. The tip of the country is a
long sandy point, at the top of which the North Sea
meet the Kattegat (I think) which is the sea between
Denmark and Sweden, so you can see the waves coming in
from both crashing into each other, and go and stand
with each foot in a different sea, which Elena did. On
the beach there were heaps of old bunkers and gun
emplacements from World War Two from when Germany took
over Denmark. Some of the gun emplacements weren't
bricked up (or had been un-bricked up) so you can poke
around inside, but there wasn't much to see, still
cool though. Tried to do some climbiing on one but
I've gotten soft and I kept falling off.
The weather here is still not what you expect for
Scandinavia, warm and sunny every day, (although we got
pissed on in Skagen, which is supposedly renowned for
its good weather, we were camping too, so that sucked
a bit). A few weeks ago we went to the beach and went
swimming a few times, the water was about 21 degrees,
so it was heaps nice. One time we were at a party, so
I ended up swimming, full of vodka and naked, at one
in the morning, and even then it wasn't too cold.
So yeah, we haven't been up to too much craziness.
Elena's friend Loth is staying with us at the moment,
and her friend (ex-boyfriend) Adam might be coming for
a week as well, before he goes off to Australia again.
I've been going to a few reggae shows, and spending
too much money on records, which I can probably get in
Australia anyway, but maybe not, and anyway, the guy
in the record shop tells me that I'm not wasting my
money, I'm stopping myself from spending it on stupid
things, somehow, like rent, and food, oh well......
And here's something interesting, on the way to the
station I ride past a couple of places that sell
gravestones (they're next to the big cemeteries). The
gravestones here are different to Australian ones,
they're mostly like big rocks (about a foot or two
across) with one face cut off flat with the inscription
there. You can get bigger ones too, and just plain
rocks (maybe they write something on them later, I
don't know), and if you're crazy rich there's one that
I see every day and marvel at, it's so big you could
do a short climb on it (with a sit start), I reckon it
must weigh at least five tonnes, craziness!!!!
OK, bye
Sgt BOBNOB Rogerson
Evening All. What's going down?
I'm still working on the cucumber farm for another
couple of weeks, after which I will be free!
The cucumber work has been more varied of late, which
is good for my (in)sanity. We cut down all the vines
over the period of about a month, and then replanted
all 42000 of the bastards. (That's a lot of cucumber
plants, it takes a good few minutes to walk from one
end of the greenhouses to the other) That was a bit
more than a month ago, since then we have been winding
the plants up strings, and tying the strings up in the
first place, and pulling the shoots off the plants and
blah blah blah cucumbers blah.....and spraying
fungicide on them all. This job sucks coz the hose is
very heavy and its my job to drag it behind the guy
pushing the spray rig and it sucks, blah blah blah
cucumbers blah blah.......
Anyhoo, Elena has a job working for the Danish
government. They don't pay her very much, but she
doesn't do any work, so that's OK. They're also
sending her to Danish school in the hope that she'll
get a job and they won't have to give her money
anymore. It works out fair though coz the amount I pay
in tax she gets from the dole. 38% tax I tells ya,
bastards!!
Last weekend we went the Skagen, which is as far north
as you can go in Denmark. The tip of the country is a
long sandy point, at the top of which the North Sea
meet the Kattegat (I think) which is the sea between
Denmark and Sweden, so you can see the waves coming in
from both crashing into each other, and go and stand
with each foot in a different sea, which Elena did. On
the beach there were heaps of old bunkers and gun
emplacements from World War Two from when Germany took
over Denmark. Some of the gun emplacements weren't
bricked up (or had been un-bricked up) so you can poke
around inside, but there wasn't much to see, still
cool though. Tried to do some climbiing on one but
I've gotten soft and I kept falling off.
The weather here is still not what you expect for
Scandinavia, warm and sunny every day, (although we got
pissed on in Skagen, which is supposedly renowned for
its good weather, we were camping too, so that sucked
a bit). A few weeks ago we went to the beach and went
swimming a few times, the water was about 21 degrees,
so it was heaps nice. One time we were at a party, so
I ended up swimming, full of vodka and naked, at one
in the morning, and even then it wasn't too cold.
So yeah, we haven't been up to too much craziness.
Elena's friend Loth is staying with us at the moment,
and her friend (ex-boyfriend) Adam might be coming for
a week as well, before he goes off to Australia again.
I've been going to a few reggae shows, and spending
too much money on records, which I can probably get in
Australia anyway, but maybe not, and anyway, the guy
in the record shop tells me that I'm not wasting my
money, I'm stopping myself from spending it on stupid
things, somehow, like rent, and food, oh well......
And here's something interesting, on the way to the
station I ride past a couple of places that sell
gravestones (they're next to the big cemeteries). The
gravestones here are different to Australian ones,
they're mostly like big rocks (about a foot or two
across) with one face cut off flat with the inscription
there. You can get bigger ones too, and just plain
rocks (maybe they write something on them later, I
don't know), and if you're crazy rich there's one that
I see every day and marvel at, it's so big you could
do a short climb on it (with a sit start), I reckon it
must weigh at least five tonnes, craziness!!!!
OK, bye
Sgt BOBNOB Rogerson
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
Tuesday, August 13, 2002
04/07/02
First day of travels – Loth & I set out for Germany.
05/07/02
Stopped off between trains and had our first traditional German dinner in Hamburg, followed by a glass of wine at a wine festival. (We’d actually thought that it was a beer hall and wondered why the woman looked at us funny when we asked for ‘bier’ – the word was close enough to the English one, how off could our pronunciation be?) Arrived in München (Munich) that afternoon, where we met up with Minton & Crazy Dave. Spent the night in a place called ‘The Tent’, which is exactly that – an enormous tent with dozens of people strewn about the floor on thin mattresses. For some reason, it was actually cheaper than putting up your own tent.
06/07/01
Visited a schloss (castle) & then went to the Dachau (1st Nazi concentration camp) memorial. Went to a beerhall and drunk an impressive 1 litre mug of beer. Met two Spanish guys, one of whom after having spoken to us for only 5 minutes (& was possibly slightly drunk) offered accommodation to Loth and I at his uncle’s house in Berlin – an extremely useful and hospitable invitation.
07/07/02
Loth & I headed off to Praha (Prague) on the early morning train where we found a room with a view and were joined by Minton later in the evening. Found a delicious Czech food place for dinner where I ate ‘Potatoes – RAKE. 3 Half hollow out toasted potato brimming mixture from piquant pork meat namely regaling mixture cheese’. The menu helpfully pointed out that ‘mentioned grams they are quantity base material it is. Greengrocers, fish and smoked-meat product in raw state’. Went for a walk that evening and made the mistake of trusting Minton’s navigation skills. Made it back to the hostel considerably later than planned but at least we found a really nice bar on the way.
08/07/02
Charged around the streets of Prague in tow of Minton and saw many sights & monuments, none of which escaped detailed description by Minton from his trusty Lonely Planet guide. Became sick of traipsing around the castle, so while Loth & Minton continued, I sat down on a bench near some Danish tourists (easily recognised by a waving Danish flag, along with the fact that they were probably the only people in the country wearing socks with sandles).
09/07/02
Walked around the Jewish Quarter and other areas. Loth & I returned to the modification chicken restaurant where I had a more conservatively titled meal of ‘chicken steak in Cantonese batter potato’.
10/07/02
Took the train to Kutná Hora, a town much smaller than but not dissimilar to Prague. Most notably we saw an ossuary – an old temple filled with sculptures made from human bones from approximately 40 000 different people (an artist’s solution to overcrowding in the cemetary following plague and war in the 14th century). Went back to the hostel in the evening. Narrowly missed a huge storm (which covered my cherries in acid rain, I might add) before Loth & I had to run to the station again to catch a train to Krákow (Cracow), Poland.
11/07/02
Arrived in Cracow extremely tired, wandered around the town streets and fell asleep in front of a castle rather than seeing the inside as planned, only waking up due to Loth’s cries as her face was licked by a small black fluffy dog. Perused some shoe shops, all the while thinking of a Polish friend’s warning story. (One of his relatives had been shopping one day and stumbled upon an amazingly cheap shoe store. Thinking he was getting quite a bargain, he smugly purchased three pairs. Shortly afterwards when wearing these shoes at a wedding, while he was dancing they began to fall apart. It was then that he discovered he had bought them from a shoe store that catered solely for the dead, the strength of the shoes therefore being no greater than that required for a brief coffin display before burial). Took advantage of the favourable currency conversion and ate dinner in a fancy medievil style restaurant.
12/07/02
Went to Ocwiecim (Auswitz) concentration camp memorial. Caught night train (packed with rowdy drunk Polish youths) to Berlin. Shared the carriage with 2 reluctant French girls who started complaining about our intrusion only to discover, much to their embarrassment, that Loth speaks French.
13/07/02
Love Parade day. Arrived in Berlin feeling like hell – realised that I had the flu. After eventually making it to Mario’s house, ate some food and crawled into bed, where I was to remain for the next 15 hours or so. Missed the Love Parade – oh well.
14/07/02
Woken up by Mario at 6am, distressed at having lost Loth (who returned a few hours later claiming that she didn’t know where she’d been – must have been a good night). Feeling mostly better, decided to visit as many museums as possible, assured by the Lonely Planet guide that they were free on Sundays. Arrived (in the pouring rain) to discover that they’re only free one Sunday a month. Damn you, 5 year old Lonely Planet guide... Taking the budget option (as usual), walked around Alexander Platz instead and stumbled upon the German History Museum (conveniently free). As it turned out, there was a great exhibition showing on the European witch hunts. One of the more ‘arty’ abstract elements of the display was a looped 15 second excerpt from the Hitchcock film ‘The Birds’, in which a woman gets divebombed by a seagull. To this day I ponder the relevance.
15/07/02
Met up with Minton & Crazy Dave at the Reichstag. Getting through the security check before entering was quite a lengthy process, yet they still let us through with pocketknives in our bags (which had just been x-rayed). ? . That afternoon, went in for a brief look at Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtnis Kirche Chapel, where we inadvertently ended up stuck on a pew whilst a sermon commenced. We left as discreetly as possible after the first reading, however, another tourist, complete with comically oversized camera, didn’t seem phased in the slightest by the religious proceedings taking place around him & continued to peruse the architechture, walking through the aisles and staring from close range at the altar behind the Minister as he spoke. Decided to go back to Mario's to cook dinner. Minton & Dave seemed to have developed a strange attachment to ‘just add water’ meals & were seemingly shocked at the suggestion of fresh food, so we dined on packet fungi pasta & multiple tins of vegetables. Walked down the road after dinner & saw the longest remaining stretch of the Berlin Wall.
16/07/02
Broke one of my rules of travel & went on a guided tour of the city. It was suprisingly good, even if the guide was a bit of a pompous British git. One of the most interesting things visited was the proposed sight for a memorial to the Jews killed in WW2. A quite remarkable coincidence was that whilst digging in preparation for the memorial’s construction, the bunker of Görring was discovered in that very place; this resulted in a great deal of controversy regarding whether or not it’s in good taste to place the memorial there. After the tour, Loth & I said goodbye to Minton & Dave & found ourselves a fine blue collar saurkraut, würst & kartoffel joint. That night we set out again.
17/07/02
Arrived in Salzburg, buggared after little sleep in a train on which we spent half the night trying to escape developing emphysema in our horrible unventilated smoking section seats. Thanks to regular coffee injections, gathered the strength to walk around the beautiful city & through the mountains. Headed back to the train station around midnight to wait for our next train. Obviously one day wasn’t enough time to really take in Austria but at least I got to annoy Loth by singing tunes from ‘the Sound of Music’.
18/07/02
Fell asleep on the floor in the waiting room at the train station while it was my turn to stay awake as we waited for the train. Woke up to the wrath of Loth 5 minutes after our train had departed & had to wait another 2½ hours for the next train. Broke another of my rules of travel and paid for the use of a toilet (oh, the shame). Finally got on the train exhausted after another night of very little sleep.
Arrived in Budapest and checked into a dodgy hostel that served as a university/dormitory during most of the year. Had a most unproductive day, mainly consisting of sleeping (on a bed that made enough noise to wake the dead every time I turned over). Didn’t discover until the next day that someone else had found their room to be infested with bed bugs. Ate packet pasta for 2 meals – how disgusting.
19/07/02
Becoming quite tired of cities & longing to just lie on the beach or a nice patch of grass. Wandered the streets with Loth, did nothing in particular and felt guilty for not doing anything worthwhile. Went to the pub that night with a group of people from the hostel. Were going to go to a jazz club – a suprisingly good suggestion from one of the bimbo Canadians from our room - until she said ‘I hope they’re not actually going to play jazz there, are they? Decided after one drink that my creaky bed was calling (more persuasively than though perhaps not as loudly as the two Canadian girls).
20/07/01
Abused by Loth when trying to wake her up in order to meet the 9am checkout deadline. Seems she’s not much of a morning person. Left her to sleep and set off for the day on my own, thinking that on my last day in Budapest I’d better at least see something of the city. Ventured up a mountain and finally saw the scenic Budapest that postcards are made of. Having limited amounts of time, I thought that the Buda Castle Labyrinth sounded like an interesting place to go. Fortunately, I took the ‘ausgang’ (ie. ‘exit’) entrance, figuring that it was only fair after having stood at the front counter for a good 10 seconds without being acknowledged by the cashier. It turned out that the whole ‘museum’ was a joke. My suspicions were aroused upon observing a fossil which beared remarkable resemblance to a sneaker print. They were confirmed upon reading a sign claiming the fossil to be estimated at 40 million years of age, thought to come from the predecessors of homo sapien, ‘homo consumus’ – a species who worshipped the consumer goods. Amongst other grand exhibits was a giant coke bottle fossil, ‘considered to be a cult symbol, possibly even of alien origin’. Another favourite was the fountain spurting a fluorescent red liquid – presumably imitation blood. I left the labyrinth with a mixture of mild aggrivation at having wasted my time finding this place (I blame the dodgy map – others may blame my atrocious sense of direction) & amusement; the latter especially when seeing the serious looking group of old men entering the place, looking as if they were expecting to enter somewhere of great historical significance. At least they were going to see some nice underground tunnels, I rationalised to myself whilst mentally debating whether or not I should warn them of what was in store. Wandered some more around the beautiful (though touristy) area outside before going back to meet Loth & then heading off (running late agin) just in time to catch the train.
21/07/01
Awoke after a long sleep on a 16 hour train journey to Venice. Attempted to phone my Italian friend, Silvia. Instead, I had an extremely confused conversation with her mother, who was speaking Italian whilst I spoke English & struggled to establish whether Silvia was there or in fact if she had ever had been or would be there & whether this was even the right number. The whole time I was mentally kicking myself for not taking the opportunity to learn some more useful Italian before I arrived. Firstly there was year seven high school Italian, in which I had decided that I hated the language and would instead answer the whole exam in French. Then there were the bits of Italian that Silvia had taught me back in Denmark. I don’t know how I though that being able to run off phrases such as ‘il lupo cambia il pelo ma non il vizio’ (‘the wolf changes the skin but not the bad habits’) could possibly have any practical applications this lifetime. After some time I was given a phone number (at least I knew enough Italian to understand that). Flustered and befuddled after the whole conversation, while grasping for the word ‘arivaderci’, I instead managed ‘prego, grazie, buongiorno’ (‘you’re welcome, thankyou, hello’) and quickly hung up. I’m sure I made a fine first impression upon Silvia’s mother. Thankfully, as it turns out, she’s a little eccentric anyway. Eventually contacted Silvia & bummed around Venice for the rest of the afternoon, drinking espresso and eating pizza & gelato (I was liking Italy already). Met up with Silvia & Rune (Danish guy) and stayed at Silvia’s mother’s house in Valdagno that night, after being taken out to dinner in a fantastic local restaurant alleged to make the best pizza in town. Slept in a huge double bed for which we were most grateful.
22/07/02
Woken up to find a sumptuous breakfast feast laid out for us on the patio table, complete with scenic mountain views. Loth & I then headed to Verona. Tried to order a long black in a cafe – ended up with an Americano which was instant coffee. Could sense the waiters laughing at me mockingly. Decided to try to only drink espressos for the remainder of my stay. Met up with Silvia again in the evening & went to stay at her sister’s apartment, where we were treated to yet another delicious Italian meal. Then came the bathroom – always a fine time for my travel misadventures. Silvia was shocked when I asked for clarification on the uses of the bidé. Well, isn’t it fair to assume that it serves the same purpose as the shower hoses in Thailand? (No, I didn’t try to shower with it this time). While attempting to shower, I had difficulty finding the lever that redirects the water from the tap to the hose. As a last resort, I started pulling at a cord hanging from the wall (hmm, I wonder what this does?). Shortly after, Silvia got up and came to the bathroom door to ask if everything was ok & there was any reason that I was repeatedly sounding a loud buzzer in the loungeroom. Oh, that’s what it does. Went to bed after a rejuvenating shower lying under the bath tap.
23/07/01 Went to Verona town again, visited ‘Casa de Giulietta’, which is meant to be Juliet’s house. Don’t know quite how they figured that but anyway... That afternoon we drove to Garda lake, the largest lake in Europe. I must say, it is bloody enormous – I would have thought it a sea. After walking around Garda town, a beautiful area, we went back to Verona and saw an opera. The Italians were most excited as the president was also in attendance that night. Needless to say, the singing was amazing, though the whole thing was a little lengthy & the story abstract and confusing, to say the least. Even Silvia & her sister, Lisa, were not able to understand more of it than the rest of us – a crazy assortment of Egyptians, African tribesmen, knights & aristocrats dancing & singing. Afterwards we went back to Lisa’s again & were cooked another huge tasty meal – at 2:30am. That’s Italian timing for you.
24/07/02
Left Verona & ventured off to Padova. Passed by a university surrounded by students in the midst of their graduation ceremony. In Italy, this involves standing on the street in your underwear reading out embarassing poems about yourself whilst your ‘friends’ throw flour & eggs at you. What a treat. We then went to a nearby cafe for lunch and discovered that since it was 3pm, we could no longer order most of the things on the menu & had to settle for toasted sandwiches. Oh well – at least this custom seemed slightly more sensible than the fact that the shops in Italy close for 4 hours for lunch. Saw a huge church (about the millionth of Loth & I’s holiday so far) and went back to Silvia’s mother’s house in Valdagno for yet another grand feast. This one was surely the greatest yet – Mrs Carneva had gone all out with multiple dishes, fancy dining wear and the whole shebang. I did, I confess, ‘subtly’ dump my raw meat dish onto Loth’s plate throughout the course of the meal. Quite unconcerend by the fact that neither Loth, Rune or I spoke Italian, she then proceeded to have a long conversation with us, in which Silvia was forced to jump in and translate in order for any effective communication to be possible.
25/07/02
Loth’s birthday & off to Rome. Fortunately, Silvia’s friend had an appartment there & all her housemates were on holidays. Could the timing be more perfect? This free accommodation thing was definitely fitting in well with Loth & I’s budget. Went to a BBQ for dinner where I shocked some Italians by telling them that kangaroos are served on pizzas to tourists in Australia. The horror was not that we eat one of our national symbols but that we sabotage the Italian concept of pizza in doing so. Mama mia!
26/07/02
Went sightseeing. Most notably saw the Vatican museums, the highlight of which was the ‘Capella Sistina’ (Sistine Chapel), where I stared in awe at the ceiling and Michaelangelo’s ‘Last Judgement’ Saw the window that the Pope speaks from and were refused admittance to St Peter’s Basilica due to our disgusting ungodly display of shoulder.
27/07/02
Sick to death of organised sightseeing & schedules, Loth & I declared that we were going shopping. This was met with disapproval but off we ventured nevertheless. Stumbled upon a Basilica designed by Michaelangelo which we looked around. The architecture was fantastic – the church had been built into the existant remnants of Roman Baths. The decorations were way over the top and hideously mismatched thanks to their efforts to cram as much grandeur into the building as possible but such is the way in many churches. Went back to Anna’s place and taught some Italians the Goldmark jingle, claiming that it was a real piece of Australian culture.
28/07/02
Went to visit the colloseum - figured we couldn’t leave Rome without seeing it. Obviously Silvia agreed, judging by the way she spent the morning giving me stern looks and checking that we were in fact going to the colloseum and not planning another shopping trip. Afterwards, walked down a huge street surrounded by ruins then ate dinner that night in a typical looking Italian restaurant – red & white checkered tablecloths and all.
29/07/02
After a fight with the Italian train system, arrived some hours late in Cinque Terra, a beautiful beach area in the north. Stuffed around for some time in a loud train station (one of many) waiting for the bus from the camping ground to pick us up in ‘5 minutes’ (every time we called them). Were by now feeling just slightly deterred, our visions of a relaxing few days in the mountains by the beach brought back to reality by the despair that we’d ever make it to our camping ground, the sound of alarm bells & screaming children and the sight of the long dried out ground indentation which we assumed to be the sparkling blue lake shown on the map. But all was not lost – eventually the bus did turn up. With a relaxed and oh so Italian wave of the hand and vague apology about the tardiness, off we were driven to the camp.
30/07/02
Our last real day of holidays. Went to the beach with three Albanian guys from the tent next to ours. It was my first ever pebble beach but hey, the amazing mountainous view made up for the lack of sand. Got quite nicely burnt – just in time to look like I’d had a real Summer holiday when I got back to Denmark.
31/07/02
Started taking our tent down just as a huge thunderstorm hit – brilliant way to start the day upon which I commenced my 24 hours or so of train travel back to Denmark. Caught the train up to Milano where I made the mistake of partaking in a conversation with a loud American guy, Eric. Turned out that he was also going back to Copenhagen as he had to spend the night there before catching his plane home the next day. For some stupid reason I offered him my lounge for the night, and so condemmed myself to a good 1½ days of hearing about how great everything is in ‘The States’. Not trusting the train schedule that had been given to me at the previous station (Eric had been given a competely different one), decided to check. After being sent between counters, spoke to an assistant who actually seemed to know the best way to get back to Copenhagen. At least you’d think so by the way he spoke at almost incomprehensible speed and waved his arms around wildly. When I politely inquired about details such as times, he looked at me incredulously and stated that he wasn’t able to provide such specifics – he was just telling me what he thought was the best route based upon the fact that his sister had travelled to Copenhagen - at some point. If I actually wanted reliable details (or the closest available Italian equivalent), I would have to go to a different counter. Grrr. After obtaining what we hoped was accurate information, we passed the rest of the day walking around Milano. I was sorry to be leaving Italy but certainy wouldn’t be missing the words ‘cuiso’ – ‘closed’ and ‘in retardo’- ‘late’ (speaking of which, the Italian train schedule notice boards actually have a separate column dedicated to informing you of how late the train is going to be). That night, all three of us boarded the same train. Loth was to change at Strasbourg. As strange as we thought it was that a train to Frankfurt went through France, she had been assured by two different train guards that this was the right train. Of course, it wasn’t. No harm done, Loth realised this by the next station and so, we said a hurried goodbye and went our separate ways. Now left alone with Eric, I was subjected to waves of American propaganda; details of this I won’t inflict upon you poor readers.
01/08/02
Changed trains at Frankfurt for an amazingly homicide free journey to Hamburg. The discman did much to help blocking out the sound of the resident American patriot telling me about how much better McDonalds tastes in The States. Managed to make our train to Copenhagen as it had been delayed. Hardly even suprised anymore that one of the arrival times we’d been given in Italy was wrong, thus connecting us with a train that should have already left. Sat down in our reserved seats in the only carriage of the train in which the air conditioning didn’t work. What better excuse for me to venture off and find a vacant seat next to some refreshingly interesting Dutch guys in a different carriage. Finally we made it back to Copenhagen. I tried as hard as possible to make my appartment sound unappealing without blatantly retracting my offer. ‘The lounge is really uncomfortable & it’s a 10 minute walk from the station’. Who was I kidding – compared to the extortionate local hostels, a stroll up the road and slightly less than a luxurious mattress wasn’t going to deter anyone.
Europe on a Cheap Bastard’s Shoestring – ‘Doin’ it the Aussie Way’
1. never pay for a nights accommodation when you can country hop on a night train instead. Don’t worry if you end up travelling around in circles – your next destination should always be planned around train schedules and seat availability.
2. When visiting museums, try to see the exhibition from finish to start. Witnessing history in reverse chronological order makes an interesting change. A little known fact to note is that ‘ausgang’ means ‘free entrance’ (as opposed to ‘eingang’, which means ‘extortion’). If for some reason you are refused entrance through the ‘ausgang’, why not consider admiring the external architecture instead? Alternatively, you could pay (not literally, of course) a visit to the museum gift shop. There you can see pictures of most of the major exhibits and decide if the entry price is really worth its value in terms of cucumber labour.
3. Under no circumstances pay for toilets – it’s craziness. Some European women realise this and find ways around it. However, for prudish Australians such as myself who have inhibitions about squatting on the footpath, pubs are a better bet.
4. As far as cheap goes, you can’t go past bread. Any sensible Australian traveller should also carry a jar of Vegemite with them at all times (provided that one is not unlucky enough to have had theirs looted by drunken Danish Vikings). As for vitamins, bananas will take care of your every nutritional need (at least, so you’d think until you end up with the flu). Naturally, however, after a time this diet may become monotonous and occasionally you’ll decide to eat out. In such situations, the following guidelines should be observed:
The dirtier the tablecloth, the better. A foolproof way of picking out the cheaper joints without even needing to look at the menu.
Eat where the locals eat. In order to distinguish the locals’ restaurants from the tourists’ ones, make sure the menu is not translated into English. (Nb. an exception is if the English menu offers delights such as ‘modification chicken meat on way Chinese kitchen’. Dining in such restaurants is probably still within your budget.)
First day of travels – Loth & I set out for Germany.
05/07/02
Stopped off between trains and had our first traditional German dinner in Hamburg, followed by a glass of wine at a wine festival. (We’d actually thought that it was a beer hall and wondered why the woman looked at us funny when we asked for ‘bier’ – the word was close enough to the English one, how off could our pronunciation be?) Arrived in München (Munich) that afternoon, where we met up with Minton & Crazy Dave. Spent the night in a place called ‘The Tent’, which is exactly that – an enormous tent with dozens of people strewn about the floor on thin mattresses. For some reason, it was actually cheaper than putting up your own tent.
06/07/01
Visited a schloss (castle) & then went to the Dachau (1st Nazi concentration camp) memorial. Went to a beerhall and drunk an impressive 1 litre mug of beer. Met two Spanish guys, one of whom after having spoken to us for only 5 minutes (& was possibly slightly drunk) offered accommodation to Loth and I at his uncle’s house in Berlin – an extremely useful and hospitable invitation.
07/07/02
Loth & I headed off to Praha (Prague) on the early morning train where we found a room with a view and were joined by Minton later in the evening. Found a delicious Czech food place for dinner where I ate ‘Potatoes – RAKE. 3 Half hollow out toasted potato brimming mixture from piquant pork meat namely regaling mixture cheese’. The menu helpfully pointed out that ‘mentioned grams they are quantity base material it is. Greengrocers, fish and smoked-meat product in raw state’. Went for a walk that evening and made the mistake of trusting Minton’s navigation skills. Made it back to the hostel considerably later than planned but at least we found a really nice bar on the way.
08/07/02
Charged around the streets of Prague in tow of Minton and saw many sights & monuments, none of which escaped detailed description by Minton from his trusty Lonely Planet guide. Became sick of traipsing around the castle, so while Loth & Minton continued, I sat down on a bench near some Danish tourists (easily recognised by a waving Danish flag, along with the fact that they were probably the only people in the country wearing socks with sandles).
09/07/02
Walked around the Jewish Quarter and other areas. Loth & I returned to the modification chicken restaurant where I had a more conservatively titled meal of ‘chicken steak in Cantonese batter potato’.
10/07/02
Took the train to Kutná Hora, a town much smaller than but not dissimilar to Prague. Most notably we saw an ossuary – an old temple filled with sculptures made from human bones from approximately 40 000 different people (an artist’s solution to overcrowding in the cemetary following plague and war in the 14th century). Went back to the hostel in the evening. Narrowly missed a huge storm (which covered my cherries in acid rain, I might add) before Loth & I had to run to the station again to catch a train to Krákow (Cracow), Poland.
11/07/02
Arrived in Cracow extremely tired, wandered around the town streets and fell asleep in front of a castle rather than seeing the inside as planned, only waking up due to Loth’s cries as her face was licked by a small black fluffy dog. Perused some shoe shops, all the while thinking of a Polish friend’s warning story. (One of his relatives had been shopping one day and stumbled upon an amazingly cheap shoe store. Thinking he was getting quite a bargain, he smugly purchased three pairs. Shortly afterwards when wearing these shoes at a wedding, while he was dancing they began to fall apart. It was then that he discovered he had bought them from a shoe store that catered solely for the dead, the strength of the shoes therefore being no greater than that required for a brief coffin display before burial). Took advantage of the favourable currency conversion and ate dinner in a fancy medievil style restaurant.
12/07/02
Went to Ocwiecim (Auswitz) concentration camp memorial. Caught night train (packed with rowdy drunk Polish youths) to Berlin. Shared the carriage with 2 reluctant French girls who started complaining about our intrusion only to discover, much to their embarrassment, that Loth speaks French.
13/07/02
Love Parade day. Arrived in Berlin feeling like hell – realised that I had the flu. After eventually making it to Mario’s house, ate some food and crawled into bed, where I was to remain for the next 15 hours or so. Missed the Love Parade – oh well.
14/07/02
Woken up by Mario at 6am, distressed at having lost Loth (who returned a few hours later claiming that she didn’t know where she’d been – must have been a good night). Feeling mostly better, decided to visit as many museums as possible, assured by the Lonely Planet guide that they were free on Sundays. Arrived (in the pouring rain) to discover that they’re only free one Sunday a month. Damn you, 5 year old Lonely Planet guide... Taking the budget option (as usual), walked around Alexander Platz instead and stumbled upon the German History Museum (conveniently free). As it turned out, there was a great exhibition showing on the European witch hunts. One of the more ‘arty’ abstract elements of the display was a looped 15 second excerpt from the Hitchcock film ‘The Birds’, in which a woman gets divebombed by a seagull. To this day I ponder the relevance.
15/07/02
Met up with Minton & Crazy Dave at the Reichstag. Getting through the security check before entering was quite a lengthy process, yet they still let us through with pocketknives in our bags (which had just been x-rayed). ? . That afternoon, went in for a brief look at Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtnis Kirche Chapel, where we inadvertently ended up stuck on a pew whilst a sermon commenced. We left as discreetly as possible after the first reading, however, another tourist, complete with comically oversized camera, didn’t seem phased in the slightest by the religious proceedings taking place around him & continued to peruse the architechture, walking through the aisles and staring from close range at the altar behind the Minister as he spoke. Decided to go back to Mario's to cook dinner. Minton & Dave seemed to have developed a strange attachment to ‘just add water’ meals & were seemingly shocked at the suggestion of fresh food, so we dined on packet fungi pasta & multiple tins of vegetables. Walked down the road after dinner & saw the longest remaining stretch of the Berlin Wall.
16/07/02
Broke one of my rules of travel & went on a guided tour of the city. It was suprisingly good, even if the guide was a bit of a pompous British git. One of the most interesting things visited was the proposed sight for a memorial to the Jews killed in WW2. A quite remarkable coincidence was that whilst digging in preparation for the memorial’s construction, the bunker of Görring was discovered in that very place; this resulted in a great deal of controversy regarding whether or not it’s in good taste to place the memorial there. After the tour, Loth & I said goodbye to Minton & Dave & found ourselves a fine blue collar saurkraut, würst & kartoffel joint. That night we set out again.
17/07/02
Arrived in Salzburg, buggared after little sleep in a train on which we spent half the night trying to escape developing emphysema in our horrible unventilated smoking section seats. Thanks to regular coffee injections, gathered the strength to walk around the beautiful city & through the mountains. Headed back to the train station around midnight to wait for our next train. Obviously one day wasn’t enough time to really take in Austria but at least I got to annoy Loth by singing tunes from ‘the Sound of Music’.
18/07/02
Fell asleep on the floor in the waiting room at the train station while it was my turn to stay awake as we waited for the train. Woke up to the wrath of Loth 5 minutes after our train had departed & had to wait another 2½ hours for the next train. Broke another of my rules of travel and paid for the use of a toilet (oh, the shame). Finally got on the train exhausted after another night of very little sleep.
Arrived in Budapest and checked into a dodgy hostel that served as a university/dormitory during most of the year. Had a most unproductive day, mainly consisting of sleeping (on a bed that made enough noise to wake the dead every time I turned over). Didn’t discover until the next day that someone else had found their room to be infested with bed bugs. Ate packet pasta for 2 meals – how disgusting.
19/07/02
Becoming quite tired of cities & longing to just lie on the beach or a nice patch of grass. Wandered the streets with Loth, did nothing in particular and felt guilty for not doing anything worthwhile. Went to the pub that night with a group of people from the hostel. Were going to go to a jazz club – a suprisingly good suggestion from one of the bimbo Canadians from our room - until she said ‘I hope they’re not actually going to play jazz there, are they? Decided after one drink that my creaky bed was calling (more persuasively than though perhaps not as loudly as the two Canadian girls).
20/07/01
Abused by Loth when trying to wake her up in order to meet the 9am checkout deadline. Seems she’s not much of a morning person. Left her to sleep and set off for the day on my own, thinking that on my last day in Budapest I’d better at least see something of the city. Ventured up a mountain and finally saw the scenic Budapest that postcards are made of. Having limited amounts of time, I thought that the Buda Castle Labyrinth sounded like an interesting place to go. Fortunately, I took the ‘ausgang’ (ie. ‘exit’) entrance, figuring that it was only fair after having stood at the front counter for a good 10 seconds without being acknowledged by the cashier. It turned out that the whole ‘museum’ was a joke. My suspicions were aroused upon observing a fossil which beared remarkable resemblance to a sneaker print. They were confirmed upon reading a sign claiming the fossil to be estimated at 40 million years of age, thought to come from the predecessors of homo sapien, ‘homo consumus’ – a species who worshipped the consumer goods. Amongst other grand exhibits was a giant coke bottle fossil, ‘considered to be a cult symbol, possibly even of alien origin’. Another favourite was the fountain spurting a fluorescent red liquid – presumably imitation blood. I left the labyrinth with a mixture of mild aggrivation at having wasted my time finding this place (I blame the dodgy map – others may blame my atrocious sense of direction) & amusement; the latter especially when seeing the serious looking group of old men entering the place, looking as if they were expecting to enter somewhere of great historical significance. At least they were going to see some nice underground tunnels, I rationalised to myself whilst mentally debating whether or not I should warn them of what was in store. Wandered some more around the beautiful (though touristy) area outside before going back to meet Loth & then heading off (running late agin) just in time to catch the train.
21/07/01
Awoke after a long sleep on a 16 hour train journey to Venice. Attempted to phone my Italian friend, Silvia. Instead, I had an extremely confused conversation with her mother, who was speaking Italian whilst I spoke English & struggled to establish whether Silvia was there or in fact if she had ever had been or would be there & whether this was even the right number. The whole time I was mentally kicking myself for not taking the opportunity to learn some more useful Italian before I arrived. Firstly there was year seven high school Italian, in which I had decided that I hated the language and would instead answer the whole exam in French. Then there were the bits of Italian that Silvia had taught me back in Denmark. I don’t know how I though that being able to run off phrases such as ‘il lupo cambia il pelo ma non il vizio’ (‘the wolf changes the skin but not the bad habits’) could possibly have any practical applications this lifetime. After some time I was given a phone number (at least I knew enough Italian to understand that). Flustered and befuddled after the whole conversation, while grasping for the word ‘arivaderci’, I instead managed ‘prego, grazie, buongiorno’ (‘you’re welcome, thankyou, hello’) and quickly hung up. I’m sure I made a fine first impression upon Silvia’s mother. Thankfully, as it turns out, she’s a little eccentric anyway. Eventually contacted Silvia & bummed around Venice for the rest of the afternoon, drinking espresso and eating pizza & gelato (I was liking Italy already). Met up with Silvia & Rune (Danish guy) and stayed at Silvia’s mother’s house in Valdagno that night, after being taken out to dinner in a fantastic local restaurant alleged to make the best pizza in town. Slept in a huge double bed for which we were most grateful.
22/07/02
Woken up to find a sumptuous breakfast feast laid out for us on the patio table, complete with scenic mountain views. Loth & I then headed to Verona. Tried to order a long black in a cafe – ended up with an Americano which was instant coffee. Could sense the waiters laughing at me mockingly. Decided to try to only drink espressos for the remainder of my stay. Met up with Silvia again in the evening & went to stay at her sister’s apartment, where we were treated to yet another delicious Italian meal. Then came the bathroom – always a fine time for my travel misadventures. Silvia was shocked when I asked for clarification on the uses of the bidé. Well, isn’t it fair to assume that it serves the same purpose as the shower hoses in Thailand? (No, I didn’t try to shower with it this time). While attempting to shower, I had difficulty finding the lever that redirects the water from the tap to the hose. As a last resort, I started pulling at a cord hanging from the wall (hmm, I wonder what this does?). Shortly after, Silvia got up and came to the bathroom door to ask if everything was ok & there was any reason that I was repeatedly sounding a loud buzzer in the loungeroom. Oh, that’s what it does. Went to bed after a rejuvenating shower lying under the bath tap.
23/07/01 Went to Verona town again, visited ‘Casa de Giulietta’, which is meant to be Juliet’s house. Don’t know quite how they figured that but anyway... That afternoon we drove to Garda lake, the largest lake in Europe. I must say, it is bloody enormous – I would have thought it a sea. After walking around Garda town, a beautiful area, we went back to Verona and saw an opera. The Italians were most excited as the president was also in attendance that night. Needless to say, the singing was amazing, though the whole thing was a little lengthy & the story abstract and confusing, to say the least. Even Silvia & her sister, Lisa, were not able to understand more of it than the rest of us – a crazy assortment of Egyptians, African tribesmen, knights & aristocrats dancing & singing. Afterwards we went back to Lisa’s again & were cooked another huge tasty meal – at 2:30am. That’s Italian timing for you.
24/07/02
Left Verona & ventured off to Padova. Passed by a university surrounded by students in the midst of their graduation ceremony. In Italy, this involves standing on the street in your underwear reading out embarassing poems about yourself whilst your ‘friends’ throw flour & eggs at you. What a treat. We then went to a nearby cafe for lunch and discovered that since it was 3pm, we could no longer order most of the things on the menu & had to settle for toasted sandwiches. Oh well – at least this custom seemed slightly more sensible than the fact that the shops in Italy close for 4 hours for lunch. Saw a huge church (about the millionth of Loth & I’s holiday so far) and went back to Silvia’s mother’s house in Valdagno for yet another grand feast. This one was surely the greatest yet – Mrs Carneva had gone all out with multiple dishes, fancy dining wear and the whole shebang. I did, I confess, ‘subtly’ dump my raw meat dish onto Loth’s plate throughout the course of the meal. Quite unconcerend by the fact that neither Loth, Rune or I spoke Italian, she then proceeded to have a long conversation with us, in which Silvia was forced to jump in and translate in order for any effective communication to be possible.
25/07/02
Loth’s birthday & off to Rome. Fortunately, Silvia’s friend had an appartment there & all her housemates were on holidays. Could the timing be more perfect? This free accommodation thing was definitely fitting in well with Loth & I’s budget. Went to a BBQ for dinner where I shocked some Italians by telling them that kangaroos are served on pizzas to tourists in Australia. The horror was not that we eat one of our national symbols but that we sabotage the Italian concept of pizza in doing so. Mama mia!
26/07/02
Went sightseeing. Most notably saw the Vatican museums, the highlight of which was the ‘Capella Sistina’ (Sistine Chapel), where I stared in awe at the ceiling and Michaelangelo’s ‘Last Judgement’ Saw the window that the Pope speaks from and were refused admittance to St Peter’s Basilica due to our disgusting ungodly display of shoulder.
27/07/02
Sick to death of organised sightseeing & schedules, Loth & I declared that we were going shopping. This was met with disapproval but off we ventured nevertheless. Stumbled upon a Basilica designed by Michaelangelo which we looked around. The architecture was fantastic – the church had been built into the existant remnants of Roman Baths. The decorations were way over the top and hideously mismatched thanks to their efforts to cram as much grandeur into the building as possible but such is the way in many churches. Went back to Anna’s place and taught some Italians the Goldmark jingle, claiming that it was a real piece of Australian culture.
28/07/02
Went to visit the colloseum - figured we couldn’t leave Rome without seeing it. Obviously Silvia agreed, judging by the way she spent the morning giving me stern looks and checking that we were in fact going to the colloseum and not planning another shopping trip. Afterwards, walked down a huge street surrounded by ruins then ate dinner that night in a typical looking Italian restaurant – red & white checkered tablecloths and all.
29/07/02
After a fight with the Italian train system, arrived some hours late in Cinque Terra, a beautiful beach area in the north. Stuffed around for some time in a loud train station (one of many) waiting for the bus from the camping ground to pick us up in ‘5 minutes’ (every time we called them). Were by now feeling just slightly deterred, our visions of a relaxing few days in the mountains by the beach brought back to reality by the despair that we’d ever make it to our camping ground, the sound of alarm bells & screaming children and the sight of the long dried out ground indentation which we assumed to be the sparkling blue lake shown on the map. But all was not lost – eventually the bus did turn up. With a relaxed and oh so Italian wave of the hand and vague apology about the tardiness, off we were driven to the camp.
30/07/02
Our last real day of holidays. Went to the beach with three Albanian guys from the tent next to ours. It was my first ever pebble beach but hey, the amazing mountainous view made up for the lack of sand. Got quite nicely burnt – just in time to look like I’d had a real Summer holiday when I got back to Denmark.
31/07/02
Started taking our tent down just as a huge thunderstorm hit – brilliant way to start the day upon which I commenced my 24 hours or so of train travel back to Denmark. Caught the train up to Milano where I made the mistake of partaking in a conversation with a loud American guy, Eric. Turned out that he was also going back to Copenhagen as he had to spend the night there before catching his plane home the next day. For some stupid reason I offered him my lounge for the night, and so condemmed myself to a good 1½ days of hearing about how great everything is in ‘The States’. Not trusting the train schedule that had been given to me at the previous station (Eric had been given a competely different one), decided to check. After being sent between counters, spoke to an assistant who actually seemed to know the best way to get back to Copenhagen. At least you’d think so by the way he spoke at almost incomprehensible speed and waved his arms around wildly. When I politely inquired about details such as times, he looked at me incredulously and stated that he wasn’t able to provide such specifics – he was just telling me what he thought was the best route based upon the fact that his sister had travelled to Copenhagen - at some point. If I actually wanted reliable details (or the closest available Italian equivalent), I would have to go to a different counter. Grrr. After obtaining what we hoped was accurate information, we passed the rest of the day walking around Milano. I was sorry to be leaving Italy but certainy wouldn’t be missing the words ‘cuiso’ – ‘closed’ and ‘in retardo’- ‘late’ (speaking of which, the Italian train schedule notice boards actually have a separate column dedicated to informing you of how late the train is going to be). That night, all three of us boarded the same train. Loth was to change at Strasbourg. As strange as we thought it was that a train to Frankfurt went through France, she had been assured by two different train guards that this was the right train. Of course, it wasn’t. No harm done, Loth realised this by the next station and so, we said a hurried goodbye and went our separate ways. Now left alone with Eric, I was subjected to waves of American propaganda; details of this I won’t inflict upon you poor readers.
01/08/02
Changed trains at Frankfurt for an amazingly homicide free journey to Hamburg. The discman did much to help blocking out the sound of the resident American patriot telling me about how much better McDonalds tastes in The States. Managed to make our train to Copenhagen as it had been delayed. Hardly even suprised anymore that one of the arrival times we’d been given in Italy was wrong, thus connecting us with a train that should have already left. Sat down in our reserved seats in the only carriage of the train in which the air conditioning didn’t work. What better excuse for me to venture off and find a vacant seat next to some refreshingly interesting Dutch guys in a different carriage. Finally we made it back to Copenhagen. I tried as hard as possible to make my appartment sound unappealing without blatantly retracting my offer. ‘The lounge is really uncomfortable & it’s a 10 minute walk from the station’. Who was I kidding – compared to the extortionate local hostels, a stroll up the road and slightly less than a luxurious mattress wasn’t going to deter anyone.
Europe on a Cheap Bastard’s Shoestring – ‘Doin’ it the Aussie Way’
1. never pay for a nights accommodation when you can country hop on a night train instead. Don’t worry if you end up travelling around in circles – your next destination should always be planned around train schedules and seat availability.
2. When visiting museums, try to see the exhibition from finish to start. Witnessing history in reverse chronological order makes an interesting change. A little known fact to note is that ‘ausgang’ means ‘free entrance’ (as opposed to ‘eingang’, which means ‘extortion’). If for some reason you are refused entrance through the ‘ausgang’, why not consider admiring the external architecture instead? Alternatively, you could pay (not literally, of course) a visit to the museum gift shop. There you can see pictures of most of the major exhibits and decide if the entry price is really worth its value in terms of cucumber labour.
3. Under no circumstances pay for toilets – it’s craziness. Some European women realise this and find ways around it. However, for prudish Australians such as myself who have inhibitions about squatting on the footpath, pubs are a better bet.
4. As far as cheap goes, you can’t go past bread. Any sensible Australian traveller should also carry a jar of Vegemite with them at all times (provided that one is not unlucky enough to have had theirs looted by drunken Danish Vikings). As for vitamins, bananas will take care of your every nutritional need (at least, so you’d think until you end up with the flu). Naturally, however, after a time this diet may become monotonous and occasionally you’ll decide to eat out. In such situations, the following guidelines should be observed:
The dirtier the tablecloth, the better. A foolproof way of picking out the cheaper joints without even needing to look at the menu.
Eat where the locals eat. In order to distinguish the locals’ restaurants from the tourists’ ones, make sure the menu is not translated into English. (Nb. an exception is if the English menu offers delights such as ‘modification chicken meat on way Chinese kitchen’. Dining in such restaurants is probably still within your budget.)
Monday, July 15, 2002
Hej, arrived yesterday in Berlin with Loth & the flu. Felt terrible & spent the majority of the day and night in bed. Thankfully we have a nice house to stay in - Mario from Spain was kind enough to put us up, even though we only met him in Munich for about 15 mins. I missed the Love Parade last night, though was not overly concerned to miss a bunch of gits prancing around the streets in brightly covered furry garments to bad techno . After Prague Loth & I went on to Cracow, which was a wonderful city & one that we were sorry to leave. Our hostel there seemed so desperate to find customers that we were given a leaflet for it upon boarding the train in Prague & assured that we'd be met at the station in Cracow. Sure enough, when we arrived there, there were people there who were incredibly helpful, spoke fluent English & drove us free of charge to our reasonably priced hospital clean hostel. I'm still trying to figure out what the trick was... After Berlin we're heading back down south through one or all of the following countries - Hungary, Croatioa, Slovakia, Slovenia, Austria, Lichtenstein, Italy. Then will somehow make my way back to little Denmark.
Wednesday, July 10, 2002
Hello, I am in Prague with Lothlorian & Minton. Somehow plans of a possible trip to Switzerland & Germany mutated into a mad dash around Europe, trying to fit about 10 countries into 1 month. On 4th July Loth & I left Copenhagen and got the train to Munich, where we met up with Minton, Dave May & Wai. Spent 2 night there in a place called 'The Tent' - basically a huge tent with lots of (predominantly) Americans sleeping on the floor. Saw a 'schloss' (castle) & Drachau - the first Nazi concentration camp. On the 7th we headed up here to Prague. Spent yesterday charging around the town after Minton in an attempt to explore half the city in a day. Saw many beautiful sights - cathedrals, bridges and fine views amongst the rest. Loth & I discovered a great dinner venue - apparently one of the few real Czech food places in the area that isn't touristy. I had a lovely meal of 'rake', which is "3 half hollow out toasted potato brimming mixture from piquant pork meat namely regaling mixture cheese." Highly recommended. Better than it sounds, I assure you. Think I'll go back tonight to try something which also sounded delicious: "chicken meat modification on way Chinese kitchen".
MENTIONED GRAMS THEY ARE QUANTITY BASE MATERIAL IT IS. PASTE, GREENGROCERS, FISH AND SMOKED-MEAT PRODUCTS IN RAW STATE.
MENTIONED GRAMS THEY ARE QUANTITY BASE MATERIAL IT IS. PASTE, GREENGROCERS, FISH AND SMOKED-MEAT PRODUCTS IN RAW STATE.
Sunday, June 09, 2002
Sunburnt, drunk & dehydrated after today's canoe trip around Bagsværd Sø. Lucky me ended up sharing a boat with crazy Romanian guy (AKA 'Tomorrow Never Dies') from the Danish class. At least he didn't come out with too many weird ones today (except for when he told me that I have to speak with all my teeth & then asked me 'how many teeth you have?' [?!?!?!?]). Colin & I are now full time slaves to the mother agurk on the cucmber farm. (Yes, Chris Chris - we have indeed found and removed the mother cucumber - we took a photo for you, which we will send shortly.) Colin seems content with his cucumber labour but I am less enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. Fortunately I will (if the bureaucrats get off their arses) be transferring to a good Danish school in Copenhagen within the next few weeks, so plan to soon announce my resignation from the cucumber industry. Lothlorian's coming to Denmark on 18/06 to stay with me for a while & we're going to work together in the carpark @ the Roskilde Festival in exchange for free tickets. Not really a great line up this year but I wouldn't mind seeing New Order & the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Also loosely making plans for a bit of a trip to Germany & Switzerland (if financial situation allows for such indulgence). Will stop entry now - either it's the beer or being in Denmark but I'm fast forgetting how to spell... have already corrected a few words on this page where I keep using 'k's instead of 'c's.
See you,
Elena.
See you,
Elena.
Thursday, May 16, 2002
Hey,
Well, still here in DK. One month left of living in the kollegium. Will be missing out on the conveniences of closely located friends, parties & free internet when we move out. On the other hand, it will be quite enjoyable to not reek of fried meat and have to wash my clothing after spending any amount of time in the kitchen while the Danish lads cook their dinner. Had my 21st birthday the other week. It coincided with the kollegium's annual party which was convenient, particularly as a rodeo had been hired. A multitude of photos can be seen on my website (follow the link from http://elenaandersen.tripod.com).
Otherwise, Colin & I should be starting jobs on a cucumber farm in a couple of weeks. The only doubts I have are due to the bullshit/half truths that Kamal told the cucumber farmer in order to convince him to employ us;
Claim: My parents are both Danish farmers who migrated to Australia during the farming rush in the 50's. My Danish, however, isn't perfect.
Truth: My father is a Danish marine engineer & my Danish is crap.
Claim: Colin has recently finished a degree in agriculture. The implication is that he is Danish.
Truth: Colin has recently finished a degree in agricultural chemistry. He is true blue as they come.
We'll see. Will post further details as they come.
Hej-hej!
Well, still here in DK. One month left of living in the kollegium. Will be missing out on the conveniences of closely located friends, parties & free internet when we move out. On the other hand, it will be quite enjoyable to not reek of fried meat and have to wash my clothing after spending any amount of time in the kitchen while the Danish lads cook their dinner. Had my 21st birthday the other week. It coincided with the kollegium's annual party which was convenient, particularly as a rodeo had been hired. A multitude of photos can be seen on my website (follow the link from http://elenaandersen.tripod.com).
Otherwise, Colin & I should be starting jobs on a cucumber farm in a couple of weeks. The only doubts I have are due to the bullshit/half truths that Kamal told the cucumber farmer in order to convince him to employ us;
Claim: My parents are both Danish farmers who migrated to Australia during the farming rush in the 50's. My Danish, however, isn't perfect.
Truth: My father is a Danish marine engineer & my Danish is crap.
Claim: Colin has recently finished a degree in agriculture. The implication is that he is Danish.
Truth: Colin has recently finished a degree in agricultural chemistry. He is true blue as they come.
We'll see. Will post further details as they come.
Hej-hej!
Tuesday, April 09, 2002
Hej igen,
Det er mig. I am quite well indeed. Have now started Danish lessons which I attend on a week-daily basis. the lessons are very S.....L....O.....W...................... they just go on and on and on and on....... I'm sure we'll get there in the end though. Some of the people in the class are... interesting. On Friday which was our 2nd day, we had a different teacher who didn't know what we had learnt yet and asked us to call out some Danish phrases that we knew so as he could write them on the blackboard. After he'd already written up a fair few (ie. it was obvious as all hell what we were all doing), someone yelled out "tomorrow never dies!". This evoked little response so he continued to yell it out until the teacher said, "ah, yes - do you know how to say that in Danish?" to which the guy replied, "oh, are we supposed to be saying Danish things?" No no, or course not dear boy, we were just wondering if you'd seen any Bond lately. Smeghead.
So, aside from these so called 'lessons', at Easter time, Colin & I went for a bike ride up to Helsingør (AKA Elsinor) where we saw Hamlet's castle & spent the night at Kristian's parents' house with his sister. The next day we caught the ferry over to Sweden, where we rode around a bit, saw a castle that was built for an old Danish king, ate some tasty sugary/buttery Swedish pastry delights, passed by some porn shops (no, we didn't go in), visited a cemetary that had in its grounds lovely little bunnies hopping around amongst the blue spring flowers & did the grocery shopping (excitement +). We then caught the ferry & softing out of riding again, caught the train home. the little duck 'Twat' rode in Colin's bike basket the whole time whilst the hippo 'Bilbo' was having a culture filled experience in France. Sadly, Bilbo decided to not yet return. Maybe he enjoyed the stinky cheese there too much, who could say.
Well, that's all from me for now.
Vi ses,
Elena.
Det er mig. I am quite well indeed. Have now started Danish lessons which I attend on a week-daily basis. the lessons are very S.....L....O.....W...................... they just go on and on and on and on....... I'm sure we'll get there in the end though. Some of the people in the class are... interesting. On Friday which was our 2nd day, we had a different teacher who didn't know what we had learnt yet and asked us to call out some Danish phrases that we knew so as he could write them on the blackboard. After he'd already written up a fair few (ie. it was obvious as all hell what we were all doing), someone yelled out "tomorrow never dies!". This evoked little response so he continued to yell it out until the teacher said, "ah, yes - do you know how to say that in Danish?" to which the guy replied, "oh, are we supposed to be saying Danish things?" No no, or course not dear boy, we were just wondering if you'd seen any Bond lately. Smeghead.
So, aside from these so called 'lessons', at Easter time, Colin & I went for a bike ride up to Helsingør (AKA Elsinor) where we saw Hamlet's castle & spent the night at Kristian's parents' house with his sister. The next day we caught the ferry over to Sweden, where we rode around a bit, saw a castle that was built for an old Danish king, ate some tasty sugary/buttery Swedish pastry delights, passed by some porn shops (no, we didn't go in), visited a cemetary that had in its grounds lovely little bunnies hopping around amongst the blue spring flowers & did the grocery shopping (excitement +). We then caught the ferry & softing out of riding again, caught the train home. the little duck 'Twat' rode in Colin's bike basket the whole time whilst the hippo 'Bilbo' was having a culture filled experience in France. Sadly, Bilbo decided to not yet return. Maybe he enjoyed the stinky cheese there too much, who could say.
Well, that's all from me for now.
Vi ses,
Elena.
Monday, March 25, 2002
Hey peoples,
Colin (boyfriend) has now made it to Denmark. He's already given everyone a great impression of Australia by:
a) Not wearing shoes, despite having toenails so disgusting I wouldn't touch them with a 10ft pole and then telling everyone that in Australia, he never wears shoes at all. Apparently 5 degree weather is but a small obstacle - he has to toughen up his feet you see (for what? who knows...)
b) Telling everyone that the national dish of Australia is MEAT - and not nice meat, really ordinary meat such as chops with lots of fat on the side
c) Being passionately and very vocally proud of the fact that it has taken him 7yrs to get his dreads so filthy that they're black (shudder)
d) Telling everyone that all Australians are really lazy
I think that these factors, combined with Colin & I's extra yob performance of 'Advance Australia Fair' contributed to many people's decisions to never visit our beautiful sunburnt country. But such is life.
Yesterday Colin summed up in one statement why he has so much difficulty with the Danish pronunciations when he said "the reason I can't pronounce anything properly is that I can't be bothered to read the whole words - I just look at the beginnings and endings and guess what the middles are going to sound like". Oh Colin.... you are true blue.
Colin (boyfriend) has now made it to Denmark. He's already given everyone a great impression of Australia by:
a) Not wearing shoes, despite having toenails so disgusting I wouldn't touch them with a 10ft pole and then telling everyone that in Australia, he never wears shoes at all. Apparently 5 degree weather is but a small obstacle - he has to toughen up his feet you see (for what? who knows...)
b) Telling everyone that the national dish of Australia is MEAT - and not nice meat, really ordinary meat such as chops with lots of fat on the side
c) Being passionately and very vocally proud of the fact that it has taken him 7yrs to get his dreads so filthy that they're black (shudder)
d) Telling everyone that all Australians are really lazy
I think that these factors, combined with Colin & I's extra yob performance of 'Advance Australia Fair' contributed to many people's decisions to never visit our beautiful sunburnt country. But such is life.
Yesterday Colin summed up in one statement why he has so much difficulty with the Danish pronunciations when he said "the reason I can't pronounce anything properly is that I can't be bothered to read the whole words - I just look at the beginnings and endings and guess what the middles are going to sound like". Oh Colin.... you are true blue.
Monday, March 11, 2002
Hello one and all,
Goddamn............... today the "marathonbar" finally came to an end. It is a great tradition in the bar downstairs - once a year the bar opens for 4 days and all the crazy Danes compete to see who can stay for the entire 72 hours and drink the most beer. They all seem to take it very seriously, with speeches and all -"I would like to thank everyone in my kitchen for helping me to reach this goal. I've drunk a lot of beer over the past 4 days. I truly believe that nothing is good without beer..." and so on. (At least I think that's what they were saying - the transalation may be shady at best). Køkken (kitchen) Q has won the beer drinking contest for a few consecutive years, so when in danger of losing, they hastily bought 6 crates of beer for all to share. First thing in the morning and furthermore, giving all due consideration to the fact that the best beer was about 7.5%, beer makes for much incoherency, resulting in diary entries such as this. Aside from all of this, I have made wehat I seriously believe to be a step up the ladder from ING & will hopefully soon commence a job delivering pamphlets. Fresh air, no office politics... what more could I possibly want? Will also be starting Danish lessons very soon.
Adios.
Goddamn............... today the "marathonbar" finally came to an end. It is a great tradition in the bar downstairs - once a year the bar opens for 4 days and all the crazy Danes compete to see who can stay for the entire 72 hours and drink the most beer. They all seem to take it very seriously, with speeches and all -"I would like to thank everyone in my kitchen for helping me to reach this goal. I've drunk a lot of beer over the past 4 days. I truly believe that nothing is good without beer..." and so on. (At least I think that's what they were saying - the transalation may be shady at best). Køkken (kitchen) Q has won the beer drinking contest for a few consecutive years, so when in danger of losing, they hastily bought 6 crates of beer for all to share. First thing in the morning and furthermore, giving all due consideration to the fact that the best beer was about 7.5%, beer makes for much incoherency, resulting in diary entries such as this. Aside from all of this, I have made wehat I seriously believe to be a step up the ladder from ING & will hopefully soon commence a job delivering pamphlets. Fresh air, no office politics... what more could I possibly want? Will also be starting Danish lessons very soon.
Adios.
Tuesday, February 12, 2002
Hey,
So I've finally made it to Denmark. Here's (in brief) what I have done so far:
Stayed with Lothlorian & Adam in the (terrible) cider making town of Taunton (Loth, did you finish that bottle yet?). The round-a-bout was most exciting though all the pubs closed at 12:30, which left little time for merriment (not that we really felt like drinking warm flat Fosters anyway...).
I then went on to London for 2 nights & stayed there with Hilton's friend. London was nice & I walked around for a while and saw, amongst other things, lots of cute little furry grey squirrels.
Then I flew in to Dublin (thankfully making it in one piece despit technical problems with the aircraft) and went to Galway to stay with Emily. Here I was not even given time to drop my bags off at the house before I was bombarded with pints of guinness from Em's friendly Irish friends (hey, who's complaining though?). Needless to say, the guinness in Ireland was fantastic, though Australian guinness is not so much poorer as many make out. I spent my week and a half or 2 in Galway wandering through the beautiful cobbled streets and eating by day and drinking guinness and bulmers (cider - much better than that of Taunton) by night.
And so, a little tubbier I left on a bus to visit Christina in Wellington county, Wexford. Here I struggled accross the street, a ridiculous sight, having aquired even more luggage, the more uneccessary of items including my beloved coffee plunger (which I had bought in England after a few terrible days of instant coffee) and Em's double doona. Unable to take another step, I collapsed in a lovely room meant for 4 in a B&B. The next day I was met by Christina and her fiance, James. We went back to spend the night at a 21st in the middle of the country (where Chris got outrageously drunk and danced up a storm & insulted & made fun of basically everyone on the dancefloor). After spending the night at James' parents' house, I caught a bus to Dublin the next day.
On my first night here I walked into a pub just around the corner from my hostel and, strangely enough, found myself standing face to face with Julia Mynott, an old friend from Primary & High School. Anyway, the next afternoon we went pubbing together (people in Ireland drink at all times of the day), blah blah blah etc. etc., the next day I caught a plane to London, followed by a plane to Malmo (Sweden), followed by a bust to Copenhagen where I was met by my Dad's cousin, Lilian and her husband, Niels.
I stayed with Lilian & Niels for about a week and then moved into the kollegium in Bagsværd (close to Copenhagen), which is a big block of rooms (intended) for uni students. Somehow I managed to get a room there, which is extremely fortunate as the general waiting period for an appartment here ranges from 1 year to 10 years, generally falling somewhere at the higher end of the scale. People here actually pay money to real Estate agents to have their kids on a waiting list as soon as they are born so that they can go straight to the top of the list when they want to move out in 20 odd years. No joke. Why don't people tell you these things before you arrive in the country??? Anyway, it's all good. Colin arrives soon so he'll have to hide out in my room until June or July - I was extremely lucky to meet someone at the kollegium whose older brother is going to Sydney for about 8 months and has said that we can rent his appartment for that period. So anyone coming to stay with us, if at all possible, schedule it for then or you'll be sleeping on a mattress on the floor of my cosy little dorm room. As for a job, I currently have none. However, being a Danish citizen I am now elligible for government assistance. So for the time being, dole queue, here I come!
Ok, enough of my rambling. For those of you who complained that I didn't tell you what I was doing, here you are: I present you with a small and boring novel. For those of you who were not concerned in the slightest, I am terribly sorry.
So goodbye, from the land of cold and dark,
Elena.
So I've finally made it to Denmark. Here's (in brief) what I have done so far:
Stayed with Lothlorian & Adam in the (terrible) cider making town of Taunton (Loth, did you finish that bottle yet?). The round-a-bout was most exciting though all the pubs closed at 12:30, which left little time for merriment (not that we really felt like drinking warm flat Fosters anyway...).
I then went on to London for 2 nights & stayed there with Hilton's friend. London was nice & I walked around for a while and saw, amongst other things, lots of cute little furry grey squirrels.
Then I flew in to Dublin (thankfully making it in one piece despit technical problems with the aircraft) and went to Galway to stay with Emily. Here I was not even given time to drop my bags off at the house before I was bombarded with pints of guinness from Em's friendly Irish friends (hey, who's complaining though?). Needless to say, the guinness in Ireland was fantastic, though Australian guinness is not so much poorer as many make out. I spent my week and a half or 2 in Galway wandering through the beautiful cobbled streets and eating by day and drinking guinness and bulmers (cider - much better than that of Taunton) by night.
And so, a little tubbier I left on a bus to visit Christina in Wellington county, Wexford. Here I struggled accross the street, a ridiculous sight, having aquired even more luggage, the more uneccessary of items including my beloved coffee plunger (which I had bought in England after a few terrible days of instant coffee) and Em's double doona. Unable to take another step, I collapsed in a lovely room meant for 4 in a B&B. The next day I was met by Christina and her fiance, James. We went back to spend the night at a 21st in the middle of the country (where Chris got outrageously drunk and danced up a storm & insulted & made fun of basically everyone on the dancefloor). After spending the night at James' parents' house, I caught a bus to Dublin the next day.
On my first night here I walked into a pub just around the corner from my hostel and, strangely enough, found myself standing face to face with Julia Mynott, an old friend from Primary & High School. Anyway, the next afternoon we went pubbing together (people in Ireland drink at all times of the day), blah blah blah etc. etc., the next day I caught a plane to London, followed by a plane to Malmo (Sweden), followed by a bust to Copenhagen where I was met by my Dad's cousin, Lilian and her husband, Niels.
I stayed with Lilian & Niels for about a week and then moved into the kollegium in Bagsværd (close to Copenhagen), which is a big block of rooms (intended) for uni students. Somehow I managed to get a room there, which is extremely fortunate as the general waiting period for an appartment here ranges from 1 year to 10 years, generally falling somewhere at the higher end of the scale. People here actually pay money to real Estate agents to have their kids on a waiting list as soon as they are born so that they can go straight to the top of the list when they want to move out in 20 odd years. No joke. Why don't people tell you these things before you arrive in the country??? Anyway, it's all good. Colin arrives soon so he'll have to hide out in my room until June or July - I was extremely lucky to meet someone at the kollegium whose older brother is going to Sydney for about 8 months and has said that we can rent his appartment for that period. So anyone coming to stay with us, if at all possible, schedule it for then or you'll be sleeping on a mattress on the floor of my cosy little dorm room. As for a job, I currently have none. However, being a Danish citizen I am now elligible for government assistance. So for the time being, dole queue, here I come!
Ok, enough of my rambling. For those of you who complained that I didn't tell you what I was doing, here you are: I present you with a small and boring novel. For those of you who were not concerned in the slightest, I am terribly sorry.
So goodbye, from the land of cold and dark,
Elena.
Tuesday, January 01, 2002
Hello all,
Welcome to the first entry in Elena's blog. I'm in Taunton with Lothlorian & Adam. Taunton is not especially exciting. Happy New Year to all & feel free to send me an e mail (euchrideuchrow@yahoo.com.au) and update me on your exciting lives. Tonight Loth & I will be going to the local round-a-bout for New Years - apparently a tradition in this crazy town. Will update you soon when there is any news to tell... Happy holidays.
Elena.
Welcome to the first entry in Elena's blog. I'm in Taunton with Lothlorian & Adam. Taunton is not especially exciting. Happy New Year to all & feel free to send me an e mail (euchrideuchrow@yahoo.com.au) and update me on your exciting lives. Tonight Loth & I will be going to the local round-a-bout for New Years - apparently a tradition in this crazy town. Will update you soon when there is any news to tell... Happy holidays.
Elena.
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