Hello again, I feel ill from eating too much sweet, sweet Cadbury Dairy Milk chocolate & too many Tim Tams, both of which were kindly provided by Colin's family (thank you!), along with amongst other stuff, an Aussie phrasebook, in case I'd forgotten how to speak Australian. Turns out that I'd never actually learnt it properly in the first place... did anybody else know that a drink used to seduce women is called a 'leg opener' or that toilet paper is referred to as 'poo tickets'? Some great Aussie names are also mentioned - Bazza, Kezza, Johnno, Muzza, Gazza, Tezza, Kazza, Shazza. Oh dear. Come on you Aussie...
So apart from immersing myself in the great Australian culture, I've been looking into doing a biology degree here in Denmark. Is still in the earlier stages of investigation, but will hopefully have a clearer idea of whadz gaan-on soon. The semesters are all crazy like over here anyway, so if I do start uni here, it won't be until next September. still planning on returning this Nov./Dec. though. As for jobs, the latest hope is an ad that I saw in the paper today, "English native speaking (hmmm) sales consultants.... if you speak fluently English (again I say, hmmm)......... call already today (hmm, should I have called already? Before I saw the ad or what? or maybe they were just using cool American lingo - 'Like, call already! Today!)" Sounds like they desperately need English speakers, if their lousy ad is anything to go by. I called & spoke to a lady who asked where I was from, as my accent was perfect. Nice to have my accent useful for something rather than it being a hindrance, such as it is in my Danish class (my teacher told me today that she has no criticisms & I can continue to the next level - but my pronunciation is a little Australian. Hmph. I'd call that a criticism.) Back to the point (what was it again?). Yes, I'll know more about the job after speaking to a guy who's meant to contact me. Not that harassing people to buy things sounds like a great career, but money would be nice.
What else.... celebrated my 22nd birthday a few weeks ago - gah, am getting hideously old. We went to the beach (needless to say, there was absolutely no swimming), had a picnic, smoked apple tobacco from a huge water pipe which Kamal had just brought back from Egypt & then went back to the kollegium & ate layer cake.
Next month, I have 2 Nick Cave concerts in London (eeeeee!!!!!!!!!!) + Roskilde Festival (at which Björk is playing!) to look forward to. I'll be working in the car park again at the latter, along with a couple of friends. Hopefully there won't be the same weird/scary wanna-be army guys helping out in the car park this year. They're all misfits who weren't accepted into the army & have formed some military resembling group instead. Basically, their most important task is looking after car parks at festivals. They turn up clad in full army gear, complete with army issue coffee mugs & pocketknives (just what you need for those rough, festival conditions). Last year there was one guy who spend the entire week-long festival in the car park workers' tent & in the car park - even though he only needed to be there for a total of 24 hrs. & had a free pass to the festival. His work was carried out with all the solemnity & concentration appropriate for a serious military operation. What a deadbeat. That's about it for now. Congratulations to everyone who graduated from uni recently. And here I am, still not having started.
Saturday, May 03, 2003
Greetings from a warm(ish) country up north. Ah, finally - the sun I've been waiting for. The days are steadily getting longer, though we're not up to the only a few hours of darkness period quite yet. It's a Friday night & I'm sitting at home drinking chamomile tea while most of the people from my kitchen are out at a Uni ball meeting the queen. Hmph. Am now extremely close to achieving my initial goal - have applied for a 10 yr. Danish passport & should receive it in a fortnight! I thought the whole thing was going to hell when I couldn't understand the very first sentence that the office lady said to me in Danish ( I swear she had a strange Jutland accent...) Could have been dodgy, as one of the conditions of my getting the passport is that I have to speak Danish. However, was all ok - I understood after she repeated it a couple of times. Phew. Similarly, I went & asked a guy about a job in a Greek restaurant the other day, but didn't understand the first sentence he was saying due to his heavy Greek accent. After a fair amount of pushing, speaking Danish in order to demonstrate that I could, telling the guy that I was a mountain climber (only a slight exaggeration), am strong, etc. etc., convinced him to let me have a one ady trial as kitchen assistant. Asked what time I should come in - "I can first be here at 1 pm". "Ha, we open at 11 am! You can't make it". He looked so satisfied, the smug, sexist git. Can't say I'm overly disappointed at not being able to be in his employ. Tomorrow night is the annual party at my old kollegium again. This year, my birthday's the day after, so I get to spend it hideously hungover - hurrah. At least can use one of my favourite Danish expressions - "Jeg har tømmermænd" (I have a hangover). One of the first phrases in my Danish textbook. Highly important in Danish society. Learnt an even better word the other day though: a slang word for a bottle opener is a "samfundshjælper" (LIT.= society helper). Another one is a dustball, a "nullemand" (rough lit. translation = a squashy, yukky man).
Thursday, April 03, 2003
Arghhhh, damned Microsoft Word. Surely it is the work of Satan. How can you tell when you've been using Word too much? When you make a mistake in everyday life, your brain automatically thinks 'Ctrl+ Z'. Am never ever going to use a template again as long as I live. Never!
So, aside from formatting problems, everything's just dandy. Looks like I'm going to be here for a little longer than expected, as the university entrance test that I want to take before I leave is state controlled & only held twice a year, the next one that I should be able to sit for being in November. Hopefully will still make it back in time for a sweltering hot Australian summer.
So, aside from formatting problems, everything's just dandy. Looks like I'm going to be here for a little longer than expected, as the university entrance test that I want to take before I leave is state controlled & only held twice a year, the next one that I should be able to sit for being in November. Hopefully will still make it back in time for a sweltering hot Australian summer.
Sunday, March 23, 2003
Spring, at last! Strangely, last night (on the day of the Equinox), my dreams were filled with snow.
Yesterday I discovered yet another strange Danish tradition. As I was leaving for school at 7:30am, I heard loud screaming & assumed that it was dedicated students protesting against the war. However, what I saw upon rounding the corner was people running about chaotically, blowing trumpets and throwing minature bread rolls at one another. I spent the whole day quite puzzled, and only later discovered that this was an Equinox tradition (this version particular to my kollegium).
Apart from that, nothing spectacular is happening here. Colin left a couple of weeks ago & is now happily sunning/intoxicating himself back in Oz. How I long for a VB... We had a bit of a party for him before he left and then went to the annual marathon bar at my old kollegium, where after only a few minutes of dancing/thrashing to a live metal band, Colin & I had managed to scare all the soft Danes off the dancefloor. I think I also elbowed Colin in the ear... thankfully he was too drunk to really mind, as was I when I smashed my hand into the stair rail some hours later. These marathon bar things are dangerous.
Well, enough procrastination - it's verb conjugation time again.
Yesterday I discovered yet another strange Danish tradition. As I was leaving for school at 7:30am, I heard loud screaming & assumed that it was dedicated students protesting against the war. However, what I saw upon rounding the corner was people running about chaotically, blowing trumpets and throwing minature bread rolls at one another. I spent the whole day quite puzzled, and only later discovered that this was an Equinox tradition (this version particular to my kollegium).
Apart from that, nothing spectacular is happening here. Colin left a couple of weeks ago & is now happily sunning/intoxicating himself back in Oz. How I long for a VB... We had a bit of a party for him before he left and then went to the annual marathon bar at my old kollegium, where after only a few minutes of dancing/thrashing to a live metal band, Colin & I had managed to scare all the soft Danes off the dancefloor. I think I also elbowed Colin in the ear... thankfully he was too drunk to really mind, as was I when I smashed my hand into the stair rail some hours later. These marathon bar things are dangerous.
Well, enough procrastination - it's verb conjugation time again.
Saturday, March 08, 2003
Saturday, March 01, 2003
Thursday, February 27, 2003
Stupid html codes. Grumble grumble. Gave up on tripod & resorted to blogger. Just wanted to post this great SMH bit on Pauline Hanson (who, to my horror, has moved to NSW & is running in the elections) :
Ms Hanson rejected criticism that she knew nothing about NSW politics.
"I'm not a boat person; I do live in this country," she said.
Ms Hanson rejected criticism that she knew nothing about NSW politics.
"I'm not a boat person; I do live in this country," she said.
Sunday, February 23, 2003
Hello,
Will be a brief update as about to be picked up. Is by an Italian though, so could be any time between now & next Monday. Finally got the internet in my room - hurrah. Am living in another kollegium now - further north & virtually in the middle of a forest. If lucky can see cute little squirrels jumping in the trees outside the kitchen. V. excting. Last week I went to stay with Kathy in Aachen, Germany for 4 nights. had a great time, mainly just slobbing about, talking & cooking tofu. We did get in some sight-seeing though. Saw some smelly sulphurous Roman baths & some of the town. On the last day, we drove to the point where the boarders of Germany, The Netherlands & Belgium meet. Was a very strange concept to put my hand in 3 countries at once. We then went to Belgium & I drank some tasty Belgian beer. I was quite confused driving through Belgium, as the signs kept switching between German & French as we passed through towns, so I was never sure whether or not we'd crossed the German boarder again. Here's an update from Colin:
Hey everyone, whats going on,
its been a hectic sort of week or so...left Barcelona
with no real aim in mind, met another interailer on
the train, Emily from America, so we've been going
crazy on the trains, in three days we went
Barcelona-Cerbene (on French-Spanish
border)-Strausburg-Zurich-Vienna-Rome-Genova, just
going wherever the trains were going, got some nice
green in Zurich, but then had to give it to the
Italian police at the border....oh well....Stayed a
couple of days in Genova, crazy city, very steep, lots
of stairs and stuff....ate plenty pizza, bought nice
new Austrian army jacket, then Milan, more pizza, too
much wine, we just made a train to Amsterdam, now been
here for a couple of days, head off tomorrow or the
day after, Berlin then Krakow, hopefully further East,
but we'll see, my plan to spend heaps of time in
eastern Europe is being thwarted by the ease of
getting trains around western Europe, anyhoo,
seeya
the Dread Pirate Rogerson
Lord of the High Seas
Queen of Australia
Will be a brief update as about to be picked up. Is by an Italian though, so could be any time between now & next Monday. Finally got the internet in my room - hurrah. Am living in another kollegium now - further north & virtually in the middle of a forest. If lucky can see cute little squirrels jumping in the trees outside the kitchen. V. excting. Last week I went to stay with Kathy in Aachen, Germany for 4 nights. had a great time, mainly just slobbing about, talking & cooking tofu. We did get in some sight-seeing though. Saw some smelly sulphurous Roman baths & some of the town. On the last day, we drove to the point where the boarders of Germany, The Netherlands & Belgium meet. Was a very strange concept to put my hand in 3 countries at once. We then went to Belgium & I drank some tasty Belgian beer. I was quite confused driving through Belgium, as the signs kept switching between German & French as we passed through towns, so I was never sure whether or not we'd crossed the German boarder again. Here's an update from Colin:
Hey everyone, whats going on,
its been a hectic sort of week or so...left Barcelona
with no real aim in mind, met another interailer on
the train, Emily from America, so we've been going
crazy on the trains, in three days we went
Barcelona-Cerbene (on French-Spanish
border)-Strausburg-Zurich-Vienna-Rome-Genova, just
going wherever the trains were going, got some nice
green in Zurich, but then had to give it to the
Italian police at the border....oh well....Stayed a
couple of days in Genova, crazy city, very steep, lots
of stairs and stuff....ate plenty pizza, bought nice
new Austrian army jacket, then Milan, more pizza, too
much wine, we just made a train to Amsterdam, now been
here for a couple of days, head off tomorrow or the
day after, Berlin then Krakow, hopefully further East,
but we'll see, my plan to spend heaps of time in
eastern Europe is being thwarted by the ease of
getting trains around western Europe, anyhoo,
seeya
the Dread Pirate Rogerson
Lord of the High Seas
Queen of Australia
Thursday, January 16, 2003
On 27/12/02 (exactly a year after my leaving Australia), I at long last made it to France. Despite managing to forget the pin numbers for both my Australian bank accounts, the week started off well, arriving in Paris to a delightful 13 degrees (and I don’t mean that sarcastically - Denmark was, at the time, around the minus 5 mark). Caught the train to Saint Nazaire, Brittany, where I stayed with Pierre, along with Tine & Chino (from Denmark). We stayed for the week in Pierre’s father’s apartment, which was situated right near the beach & harbour, with a close to 365 degree view. Had an incredibly relaxing week; walking, eating brie & baguette, drinking cider & practicing making that French nasal sound. Tried to refresh some of my French using a book that had an interesting conversation about how somebody’s grandparents were coming over on the weeekend, so they had to wash the living room walls (naturally... that’d be the obvious thing to do -?) And this was after having just been reading a Danish culture book which discussed how Danes don’t like to wear sexy clothing & will most often just wear jogging clothes or raincoats. How have I been here for almost a year & not noticed this?
New Years was excellent. We had a party at Pierre’s, during which we ate lots of good food & drank a lot. Unfortunately, my drinking came to an abrupt halt when I realised that I had developed the same alcohol related rash-like thing on my face as the one I got after my 8 day drinking spree before leaving Australia. It was probably for the best.
On 03/01/03, I left for Paris, where I stayed for 1 night & did nothing notable. Glimpsed the Eiffel Tower (which I found quite ugly & unimpressive) & Notre Dame, but hastily retreated from both due to masses of tourists. On 03/01/01, I visited Jim Morrison’s grave, which unbeknownst to me, was also a popular tourist attraction. The rest of my day’s plans for a long walk around Paris were spoilt by a sudden snow storm which caught me off-guard & saturated me in a matter of minutes. However, the worst (& far far worse at that) was still to come. Due to snow, my plane that evening was cancelled. I was offered a possible seat on a flight 13hrs later - if indeed that flight wansn’t cancelled as well. And so, I spent an exciting night camped out on the airport floor, being reminded of the Roskile Festival as I pathetically sat on the ground clutching a bottle of cider amongst the masses of bodies. Luckily, I did make it onto the plane the next morning, after forcing my way through the hundreds of other unfortunates whose flights had also been cancelled.
And here, to completely change the subject, is a nice quote from the Sydney Morning Herald, apparently in retaliation to The Copengahen Post's slagging off of Prince Frederik's Australian fiance, Mary:
"What we want to know is whether this Prince Fred character is good
enough for our Mary, a hard-working, down-to-earth eastern suburbs girl.
Here is a man who picks up women in Sydney bars by baring his hairless
chest at them. Here is a man better known for his tattoos, his chain
smoking, his diving naked into pools in French palaces and his dating of
wannabe pop stars than he is for his princely behaviour. We can only
hope he shapes up in time for the wedding."
Yep, sounds like a Dane to me. Thanks for the quote Marion - much appreciated.
New Years was excellent. We had a party at Pierre’s, during which we ate lots of good food & drank a lot. Unfortunately, my drinking came to an abrupt halt when I realised that I had developed the same alcohol related rash-like thing on my face as the one I got after my 8 day drinking spree before leaving Australia. It was probably for the best.
On 03/01/03, I left for Paris, where I stayed for 1 night & did nothing notable. Glimpsed the Eiffel Tower (which I found quite ugly & unimpressive) & Notre Dame, but hastily retreated from both due to masses of tourists. On 03/01/01, I visited Jim Morrison’s grave, which unbeknownst to me, was also a popular tourist attraction. The rest of my day’s plans for a long walk around Paris were spoilt by a sudden snow storm which caught me off-guard & saturated me in a matter of minutes. However, the worst (& far far worse at that) was still to come. Due to snow, my plane that evening was cancelled. I was offered a possible seat on a flight 13hrs later - if indeed that flight wansn’t cancelled as well. And so, I spent an exciting night camped out on the airport floor, being reminded of the Roskile Festival as I pathetically sat on the ground clutching a bottle of cider amongst the masses of bodies. Luckily, I did make it onto the plane the next morning, after forcing my way through the hundreds of other unfortunates whose flights had also been cancelled.
And here, to completely change the subject, is a nice quote from the Sydney Morning Herald, apparently in retaliation to The Copengahen Post's slagging off of Prince Frederik's Australian fiance, Mary:
"What we want to know is whether this Prince Fred character is good
enough for our Mary, a hard-working, down-to-earth eastern suburbs girl.
Here is a man who picks up women in Sydney bars by baring his hairless
chest at them. Here is a man better known for his tattoos, his chain
smoking, his diving naked into pools in French palaces and his dating of
wannabe pop stars than he is for his princely behaviour. We can only
hope he shapes up in time for the wedding."
Yep, sounds like a Dane to me. Thanks for the quote Marion - much appreciated.
Thursday, January 09, 2003
Me being lazy again... here's a report from Colin instead:
Morning Everybody....
How's everyone going?, I hope you all had good
Christmas New Year thingy parties and such.....
Its got rather cold here, not really surprising
really, but there you go, It snowed on the 2nd, and a
bit more since then as well, so now its very white in
places, and very filthy and brown and slushy in
others. Lots of fun for riding around in, speciallly
when I pinch Elena's mountain bike. My 25 year old
ladies bike doesn't hold on the slush quite as well as
her big fat tires....still, in a way its more fun on
my bike coz theres a bit more sliding.....All the
lakes and such are frozen here too, which is cool.
There's a soccer field near us which is very poorly
drained, so is always covered in water, which is now
frozen, so people go skating on it, not now though
coz its covered in a foot of snow so you can't see
where the ice is.......
anyhoo, other than staying inside, I'm not up to much
at the moment............looking forward to traveling
around soon ,then coming home. Still not sure exactly
when I'll have a party.....that dependsa bit on you Mr
Watson, and when you're going of to the wild west, let
me know what your plans are, and assuming that Mr
Watson ignores my request like he did last time, maybe
Mr Scott or Mr Whitford or anyone else who sees him
might give him a gentle reminder......
OK Seeyallater
the Dread Pirate Rogerson
Lord of the High Seas
Queen of Australia
P.S. There have been certain parties questioning my
claim to the queenshipness of Australia, anyone else
who has a problem with it may wish to join Mr Allen in
challenging me to a dual at the abovementioned party.
Morning Everybody....
How's everyone going?, I hope you all had good
Christmas New Year thingy parties and such.....
Its got rather cold here, not really surprising
really, but there you go, It snowed on the 2nd, and a
bit more since then as well, so now its very white in
places, and very filthy and brown and slushy in
others. Lots of fun for riding around in, speciallly
when I pinch Elena's mountain bike. My 25 year old
ladies bike doesn't hold on the slush quite as well as
her big fat tires....still, in a way its more fun on
my bike coz theres a bit more sliding.....All the
lakes and such are frozen here too, which is cool.
There's a soccer field near us which is very poorly
drained, so is always covered in water, which is now
frozen, so people go skating on it, not now though
coz its covered in a foot of snow so you can't see
where the ice is.......
anyhoo, other than staying inside, I'm not up to much
at the moment............looking forward to traveling
around soon ,then coming home. Still not sure exactly
when I'll have a party.....that dependsa bit on you Mr
Watson, and when you're going of to the wild west, let
me know what your plans are, and assuming that Mr
Watson ignores my request like he did last time, maybe
Mr Scott or Mr Whitford or anyone else who sees him
might give him a gentle reminder......
OK Seeyallater
the Dread Pirate Rogerson
Lord of the High Seas
Queen of Australia
P.S. There have been certain parties questioning my
claim to the queenshipness of Australia, anyone else
who has a problem with it may wish to join Mr Allen in
challenging me to a dual at the abovementioned party.
Thursday, December 19, 2002
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....."
"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.
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