Highlights:
• Snow-covered German countryside
• Swiss Albert's impression of a Mancunian
• Bern
After my horrific lack of supplies on the train to Ljubljana, I made a trip to the local Lidl to stock up. At home, I love Lidl. Nothing is any logical order and it's all a bit potluck what you come out with. Usually some unbranded curry sauce and a cheap bottle of prosecco. When you're in a hurry, the lack of order is annoying. I came out with some water and two croissants for a 6hour journey. Brilliant.
I unmade my bed at the hostel as required (begrudgingly), checked out and headed to the station. To emphasise German train efficiency even further, the ticket office has one of those old-school deli ticket machines, where you wait comfortably in the chairs for your number to be called. On being told 'sie konnen aber sie nicht mussen reservier ein setz', I hopped on the train to Mannheim and found a cushty table seat. Cushty until a seemingly cute little girl came and sat opposite me and started innocently kicking me.
Housemate Abbie tells me I've described every location I've been as beautiful, so I'm going to do a little Joey from Friends inappropriate thesaurus usage to liven up my descriptions. The German countryside covered in snow was PHYSICALLY ATTRACTIVE. As the snow fell down, and we passed these little cabins, the view was just HANDSOME. We're talking seriously PULCHRITUDINOUS (what?)!
I changed in Mannheim, somewhere in South-West Germany I think, where it was snowing and icy cold. The cold you can only feel when standing on an exposed train platform for 30minutes. Lots of old ladies, in their thin old lady shoes were doing little keep warm feet dances, so I joined in. The trains to Basel were all delayed, presumably because of the snow, but it gave me the opportunity to cement the german word for 'platform' (gleis) to memory. So eventually onto Basel, and then onto Bern.
I arrived in Bern around 5pm. My guide had described it as 'the most underrated capital in Europe', and I think on first impressions, it's been the most impactful on this trip. For once, I didn't get lost, and trundled my way down the main street (Marktgasse) to head to my hostel in the East. The main road was bordered either side with covered walkways with unique shops on one side and huge archways allowing you back onto the street on the other. The view through these archways, with the snow falling in front of all these Diagon Alley shops, was RESPLENDENT.
I crossed the River Aare (Pub Quiz Fact) and found my hostel down a little stairway on Alternbergerstrasse. It was called the Landhaus by Albert and Frida, and I think I was welcomed in by Frida. She looked bemused when I mixed french and german in one sentance and switched to English for me then showed me around. I was in a 6-bed dorm, though these were split into 2-bed cabins, allowing a little more privacy. They had a cancellation, so I actually had my own cabin for the evening.
As is standard with my arrival in a new city (and most evenings really), I treated myself to some red wine (Fransozich, bitte). I then tried to work out the Swiss plug socket. Different from the rest of Europe, apparently. Albert had joined Frida behind bar and was excited when I asked for 'noch eins rot wein' (thanks, Gurk). "But your German is so good!" We had a little conversation about England. They loved London. Like every single person I've met on this trip, they said the people there are just so helpful and friendly. London may have its bad points, but I'd agree that the people are probably the friendliest and smiliest. There's more laughter in London than anywhere else. I felt a bit of pride, but again had to defend English cuisine. SIDE NOTE Seriously, why does no-one appreciate a good Shepherd's pie? It doesn't have to be covered in salt, butter and a rich sauce to be tasty. Shepherd's pie, or a nice stew, or bangers and mash. Quality cuisine.
I said to Albert I loved Germany, and had great first impressions of Switzerland. He mentioned that one of his favourite English phrases was "Don't mention the war!" (A Cleese fan). His second favourite was expressed to him in anger in Manchester. He'd just arrived and had headed to the pub when this drunk manc came up to him and said "fooking shitalian". Albert cackled as he retold this. "I wish I were a shitalian, but I'm just a boring Swiss". He repeated 'fooking shitalian' to himself a few more times, in quite a good Manchester accent.
So seeing as I was in Bern and Switzerland, famous for raclettes and fondues, I went and had Japanese for dinner. It's always odd being in a foreign country, ordering food from a different foreign country. Trying to work out Swiss-German pronunciation of Japanese words. Tricky. An expensive dinner, but it was worth it.
I headed back through the snow and the BEAUTEOUS (it's still different, Abbie), glittering lights of the small houses on the hill.
End of day 26.
Showing posts with label Germany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Germany. Show all posts
Sunday, 28 October 2012
Saturday, 27 October 2012
Day 25: Munich
Highlights:
I found a cafe and settled in with my hostel-provided map and brief guide to Munich. So as well as the Olympic Israeli murders and the football plane crash, Munich (meaning the City of Monks) is also known for being a Hitler hotspot. As I walked around town, I noticed a lot of appropriate town squares for Nazi rallying. They're all quite large and floored with white concrete, faintly reminiscent of the top end of Berlin's Unter den Linden. At the moment they're mostly covered in lovely orange and red autumn leaves, so with the sky being a white overcast and the buildings being quite pale, your eyes are drawn down to this sort of fiery scattering. It's all very pretty.
I headed up through the centre of Munich past Marienplatz where there's a bit clocktower which puts on an elaborate cuckoo style performance a few times each day. Something involving a heroic German beating a Frenchie in a jousting battle. There were a lot of people waiting around for the next show but I decided to head north to the Pinotheken, a group of museums. Munich is the home of a lot of German businesses and I saw a big BMW office and an attractive classic pink building which turned out to be Siemens HQ.
Gurk had recommended the Pinakothek der Moderne, so I went and asked for a ticket in German. I really DO think I speak with a Bavarian accent, as here I'm only responded to in German. I understood one word in 7 on average, and I'm pretty sure I bought a ticket covering more museums than I could possibly hack, but my fake-comprehension seemed to please old Hans the ticket guy. Again, you're forced to put your bag in the cloakroom. They must get a lot of art terrorists in Germany. People Banskying over Rothkos and Cezannes and stuff.
So I generally think a lot of modern art is a load of rubbish, but I still love it. I enjoy making up wacky interpretations ("that maroon smudge clearly expresses sorrow for the extinction of the dodo") and taking the mickey. I got a free audioguide, which came with a screen that showed pictures of the artists and critics and seemed to mirror a lot of my joke interpreations though said with complete sincerity. Andy Warhol's religious meanings behind his converse trainer print, because he wore converse (which the lady described as the most popular U.S. Trainer) to the opening of his Last Supper showing. Oh the many layers and depth of that douchebag...I hate Warhol. I started reading his biography once, but couldn't go more than a chapter in. His shallow craving for cool, popularity and wealth is somewhat sickening.
There was some cool stuff by an artist called Georg Baselitz. He had a lot of figures who looked like muscular giants, but with tiny, tiny heads. The colours and style similar to the latest Manic Street Preachers cover. He was born in East Berlin but moved to the West for a bit, and a lot of his paintings are supposed to express his turmoil. There was a good one involving two Forestry workers, looking at two dogs caught in barbed wire. A bit grim, maybe. There was an empty room with some sort of creepy classroom setting, with all these wooden dolls.
There was some quality video art. First a documentary about setting up an art space in London for a Danish artist (Christian something), using a 'famous UK TV interior designer' who I'd NEVER heard of, called Gordon. It explained about the uses of space; apparently the Dulwich Gallery in London was one of the first custom built galleries. They compared the traditional style of that to the Saatchi Gallery's plain white wall and high ceiling approach, and the cool Danish artist expressed a preference to move away from the dull plain white walls. He wanted a bit more of a challenge. The Pinothek Modernes had an amazing style and layout, and it was a really unusual building. Similar tall light grey concrete walls as found at the Jewish Museum in Berlin (which you should all go to by the way. Best museum I've ever been to) but then with this unusual glass roof and oddly shaped breakoffs from the circular entrance hall. Turbine Hall aside, it makes the Tate Modern look really dull.
The other video art was by a Jewish guy, and involved him and some Jewish actors wearing old style country dungarees and caps, building a Kibbutz on the site of the old Warsaw Ghetto. It was beautifully shot, though every now and then focussed on some of the actors with a sort of glow around them. An obvious move to make the characters appear angelic and idyllic. The music seemed strangely Christian Cathedral, aside from a few harmonica timeouts as the actors rested from building this wooden tower and huts. It was all ok until they started putting barbed wire up. Nothing beautiful or peaceful about barbed wire. Apparently this video was part of a trilogy, and at the end the leader is killed by the others. Dunno what that's about. Immediately after this room you walk into a slightly darkened angular room with three landscape screens propped up in the middle. The screens show selection of naked people walking onto the edge of one screen, and then across and off the other end, holding a plank of wood over their shoulders. The next person starts as the previous has walked over all three screens. The viewing angle is from directly below the people, so you see a lot of willies and lady bits. Nakes Society, it was called.
I looked around enough to get my money's worth and then headed outside. It was really cold (I think below 6 degrees) though dry, and the streets were relatively empty of people and cars so it was very quiet. It seemed like the right time to listen to Radiohead's King of Limbs, and with my new bass heavy earphones (see Day 1) and those quiet, empty clean and pale streets, I think I finally get that album. It was powerful. Just Radiohead and I against the cold.
Had lunch in a nice restaurant called Soda near the university buildings, and then headed to Englischergarten. It's supposed to be one of the biggest parks in a city (though the only comparison it seems to make is that it's two times the size of Central Park. Having been to Central Park and being completely underwhelmed (it's pants), that wasn't a selling point for me. The selling point was that there's an entire section which is acknowledged as a nudist hub. I think it's offensive to wear clothes in that section in the summer. Sadly, that 5 degree temperature meant today was sans-nude, but it was still a nice park. Leafy. A few streams of river, which lead into Munich's Isar River (pub quiz fact for you) and some dogs and runners. I got lost (daily achievement) and somehow came out North Side, when I'd been aiming for South West, but you know how I am with city parks. Time well spent.
I walked back along the river and then into town. I think post holiday season, they decided to do a massive city refurb, so a lot of things are shut or covered with big sheets of plastic, some of which are decorated like the building underneath in an attempt to make it look more presentable. There was some sort of archaeological dig going on near Schrammer Strasse and sort of chestnut extortion scam going on, on Kaufinger Strasse. €3 for 10 chestnuts? You're having a laugh.
Back at the hostel I met up with Courtney and we went to the Augustiner Brewery Beer Hall. Munich is famous for its Hofbrauhausen, and we reckoned being slightly out of the centre, this would either be quieter or full of locals. It can apparently cater for 7,000 people. There's a mega beer garden which would be incredible in the summer, with the paths lined with candles. Inside, we were directed to the basement, circling down a low-ceilinged spiral staircase. The basement was huge. High domed ceilings and walls of red brick, with soft lighting. It felt like a true Bavarian experience, and it was packed with Germans. We were seated at the only free table, and I ordered one of two vegetarian dishes; macaroni cheese with fried onions and salad. Courtney ordered the meat plate. Seriously, just a plate of meat. And a weissbiere. Of course. It was brilliant. I'd recommend two days in Munich if only for that experience.
We had a great evening talking about Australian wines (apparently they're alright, if you know where the good grapes are), Parisians (Courtney had a put-off-for-a-lifetime experience in the capital) and pork knuckles (where is a pig's knuckle? Apparently it's huge).
End of day 25.
- Pinakothek der Moderne
- Englischer Garten
- Augustiner Braustuben
I found a cafe and settled in with my hostel-provided map and brief guide to Munich. So as well as the Olympic Israeli murders and the football plane crash, Munich (meaning the City of Monks) is also known for being a Hitler hotspot. As I walked around town, I noticed a lot of appropriate town squares for Nazi rallying. They're all quite large and floored with white concrete, faintly reminiscent of the top end of Berlin's Unter den Linden. At the moment they're mostly covered in lovely orange and red autumn leaves, so with the sky being a white overcast and the buildings being quite pale, your eyes are drawn down to this sort of fiery scattering. It's all very pretty.
I headed up through the centre of Munich past Marienplatz where there's a bit clocktower which puts on an elaborate cuckoo style performance a few times each day. Something involving a heroic German beating a Frenchie in a jousting battle. There were a lot of people waiting around for the next show but I decided to head north to the Pinotheken, a group of museums. Munich is the home of a lot of German businesses and I saw a big BMW office and an attractive classic pink building which turned out to be Siemens HQ.
Gurk had recommended the Pinakothek der Moderne, so I went and asked for a ticket in German. I really DO think I speak with a Bavarian accent, as here I'm only responded to in German. I understood one word in 7 on average, and I'm pretty sure I bought a ticket covering more museums than I could possibly hack, but my fake-comprehension seemed to please old Hans the ticket guy. Again, you're forced to put your bag in the cloakroom. They must get a lot of art terrorists in Germany. People Banskying over Rothkos and Cezannes and stuff.
So I generally think a lot of modern art is a load of rubbish, but I still love it. I enjoy making up wacky interpretations ("that maroon smudge clearly expresses sorrow for the extinction of the dodo") and taking the mickey. I got a free audioguide, which came with a screen that showed pictures of the artists and critics and seemed to mirror a lot of my joke interpreations though said with complete sincerity. Andy Warhol's religious meanings behind his converse trainer print, because he wore converse (which the lady described as the most popular U.S. Trainer) to the opening of his Last Supper showing. Oh the many layers and depth of that douchebag...I hate Warhol. I started reading his biography once, but couldn't go more than a chapter in. His shallow craving for cool, popularity and wealth is somewhat sickening.
There was some cool stuff by an artist called Georg Baselitz. He had a lot of figures who looked like muscular giants, but with tiny, tiny heads. The colours and style similar to the latest Manic Street Preachers cover. He was born in East Berlin but moved to the West for a bit, and a lot of his paintings are supposed to express his turmoil. There was a good one involving two Forestry workers, looking at two dogs caught in barbed wire. A bit grim, maybe. There was an empty room with some sort of creepy classroom setting, with all these wooden dolls.
There was some quality video art. First a documentary about setting up an art space in London for a Danish artist (Christian something), using a 'famous UK TV interior designer' who I'd NEVER heard of, called Gordon. It explained about the uses of space; apparently the Dulwich Gallery in London was one of the first custom built galleries. They compared the traditional style of that to the Saatchi Gallery's plain white wall and high ceiling approach, and the cool Danish artist expressed a preference to move away from the dull plain white walls. He wanted a bit more of a challenge. The Pinothek Modernes had an amazing style and layout, and it was a really unusual building. Similar tall light grey concrete walls as found at the Jewish Museum in Berlin (which you should all go to by the way. Best museum I've ever been to) but then with this unusual glass roof and oddly shaped breakoffs from the circular entrance hall. Turbine Hall aside, it makes the Tate Modern look really dull.
The other video art was by a Jewish guy, and involved him and some Jewish actors wearing old style country dungarees and caps, building a Kibbutz on the site of the old Warsaw Ghetto. It was beautifully shot, though every now and then focussed on some of the actors with a sort of glow around them. An obvious move to make the characters appear angelic and idyllic. The music seemed strangely Christian Cathedral, aside from a few harmonica timeouts as the actors rested from building this wooden tower and huts. It was all ok until they started putting barbed wire up. Nothing beautiful or peaceful about barbed wire. Apparently this video was part of a trilogy, and at the end the leader is killed by the others. Dunno what that's about. Immediately after this room you walk into a slightly darkened angular room with three landscape screens propped up in the middle. The screens show selection of naked people walking onto the edge of one screen, and then across and off the other end, holding a plank of wood over their shoulders. The next person starts as the previous has walked over all three screens. The viewing angle is from directly below the people, so you see a lot of willies and lady bits. Nakes Society, it was called.
I looked around enough to get my money's worth and then headed outside. It was really cold (I think below 6 degrees) though dry, and the streets were relatively empty of people and cars so it was very quiet. It seemed like the right time to listen to Radiohead's King of Limbs, and with my new bass heavy earphones (see Day 1) and those quiet, empty clean and pale streets, I think I finally get that album. It was powerful. Just Radiohead and I against the cold.
Had lunch in a nice restaurant called Soda near the university buildings, and then headed to Englischergarten. It's supposed to be one of the biggest parks in a city (though the only comparison it seems to make is that it's two times the size of Central Park. Having been to Central Park and being completely underwhelmed (it's pants), that wasn't a selling point for me. The selling point was that there's an entire section which is acknowledged as a nudist hub. I think it's offensive to wear clothes in that section in the summer. Sadly, that 5 degree temperature meant today was sans-nude, but it was still a nice park. Leafy. A few streams of river, which lead into Munich's Isar River (pub quiz fact for you) and some dogs and runners. I got lost (daily achievement) and somehow came out North Side, when I'd been aiming for South West, but you know how I am with city parks. Time well spent.
I walked back along the river and then into town. I think post holiday season, they decided to do a massive city refurb, so a lot of things are shut or covered with big sheets of plastic, some of which are decorated like the building underneath in an attempt to make it look more presentable. There was some sort of archaeological dig going on near Schrammer Strasse and sort of chestnut extortion scam going on, on Kaufinger Strasse. €3 for 10 chestnuts? You're having a laugh.
Back at the hostel I met up with Courtney and we went to the Augustiner Brewery Beer Hall. Munich is famous for its Hofbrauhausen, and we reckoned being slightly out of the centre, this would either be quieter or full of locals. It can apparently cater for 7,000 people. There's a mega beer garden which would be incredible in the summer, with the paths lined with candles. Inside, we were directed to the basement, circling down a low-ceilinged spiral staircase. The basement was huge. High domed ceilings and walls of red brick, with soft lighting. It felt like a true Bavarian experience, and it was packed with Germans. We were seated at the only free table, and I ordered one of two vegetarian dishes; macaroni cheese with fried onions and salad. Courtney ordered the meat plate. Seriously, just a plate of meat. And a weissbiere. Of course. It was brilliant. I'd recommend two days in Munich if only for that experience.
We had a great evening talking about Australian wines (apparently they're alright, if you know where the good grapes are), Parisians (Courtney had a put-off-for-a-lifetime experience in the capital) and pork knuckles (where is a pig's knuckle? Apparently it's huge).
End of day 25.
Thursday, 25 October 2012
Day 24: Ljubljana to Munich
Highlights:
- Efficient, smooth German transport
- Lovely Bavarian beer garden
- Venezuelan Luis, Lucas Sr and Lucas Jr
So snoring took on a whole new level last night. I was having this dream where someone was trying to force me to go to a dupstep club night, and I just wasn't interested. I could hear the beat, and my companion was all 'doesn't that sound awesome?'. I listened and I heard 'di-di-di-di hfraaaawn, hfran' on repeat. Gradually I woke up to find that hrfaaaawn was Simon from New Zealand, and hfran was a girl from the Philippines. Well, it takes about 90minutes to get back to sleep with dubstep in your ears. Bloody snoring.
I woke and packed, and slowly headed to the station. I stopped for a guilty McDonalds Cappuccino and caught up with the US girls as they legged it for their train. My last memory is of them, 5ft 11 Carly and 5ft 1-ish Brianna, jogging away from me on the platform, their huge backpacks bouncing as they descended into the stairway ahead.
At the platform, a stuttering guy came up to me with what I thought was a question about the train. Even when he'd reverted to English, I still couldn't understand him until he started repeating 'give me two euros' in an unusual way. I didn't give him two euros. I pretended I had to look at something further down the platform.
The journey was uneventful but wondefully smooth and beautiful as we headed through Austria. We're talking Austrian hills, green and vast against snow capped mountains and blue skies, with these little Austrian villages in the valleys. It went on and on, until you entered a 5minute tunnel through one of the mountains and then emerged again in another valley. We passed through Salzburg and then headed into Germany. The landscape become less epic, though after a few hours of fog, we hit some sunshine. A car transporter passed us on the track, full of brand new Volkswagon and Audi cars. There were two levels on each carriage, with seven cars stored on each level. About 50 carriages must have passed by on this train. That's mass German transportation.
I arrived in Munich around 3.30pm. The girl opposite me thought I was German and rather than disappoint her, I followed her lead and laughed at what seemed like the relevant punchlines. She looked like a German, dark-haired and pierced-lip version of my friend Helen Martin. We both laughed at a child crying in the corridor.
I was staying at the Wombats hostel, a 3minute walk from the Hauptbahnhof. The receptionist was refusing a 40something couple as I arrived, explaining that they were fully booked. The couple got angry, though the receptionist, with a somewhat smug grin, repeated that it was a busy hostel and you really needed to book; she couldn't exactly throw existing people out, could she? Quite cleverly, the hostel made you make your own beds. I was a bit outraged, until I got a grip and realised it was a pretty smart move and that I'd been spoilt for a month not having to change my sheets since Berlin.
As it was sunny, I headed to what I thought was a beer garden, recommended by my friend Gurk (her au-pairing had been in Bavaria, the capital of which is Munich). It turned out to be a beer hall, which was cool but I wanted to be outside enjoying the sun. After a brief stop off at C&A to see if they sold any baby lederhosen for my new favourite baby (Charge Gridley-Stickland), I found an outdoor beer garden on Viktualienmarkt. Loads of long tables, surrounded by beer and food huts. It was packed. I'm told it was their first sunny day in a while. I bought a beer then used my best 'Kann ich hier setzen' on a German family and sat reading Kindle Samples about the Munich Olympics massacre (the only thing I know about the place beyond the Busby Man United plane crash). I eavesdropped as the 13 year old daughter of the German family came back, having bought a T-Shirt with the word ROCK on. Her older brother moaned how lame those T-Shirts were, then defended his Nirvana T-Shirt saying 'Nirvana were not a rock band' (I've translated this). It all got a bit heated.
The family were soon replaced by three guys, a late 40s guy asking in English if he could sit down. The youngest guy of the group asked me something in German; the only German he knew it turned out, as they were all actually Venezuelan. They were returning from Kanton, China, where they went once a year for a conference on plastic pipes. They'd started their own company the previous year (and were all partners) and had their manufacturing based in China, hence the trip. The two older guys were Luis and Lucas Sr; the younger guy was his son Lucas Jr. They all spoke great English (though had to speak in Spanish for a while trying to work out what 'The Sound of Music was' (whilst the direct Spanish translation is supposedly beautiful, it's called something like 'The Rebel Nun' in Venezuelan)) but Lucas Jr had studied in Boston so he had to help the older guys from time to time. They were stopping on the way back from China for a short holiday in Munich, and invited me to join them in Salzburg the following day ("either Venezuelan Style or English Style". The former, they pay everything for me, and the latter I pay for myself). They showed me photos from Hong Kong Madame Tussaurd's, with various comic poses next to Mao, Princess Diana and Steve Jobs (showing him a blackberry). Lucas Sr bought me a beer and we hung out for a few hours as it got darker. I learned that Venezuela is famous for its beaches and beautiful women.
We left about 7pm, and I stopped off for dinner near the station. Quite proudly, I spoke entirely in German throughout the process, somehow making myself understood even in the Bavarian dialect, and then headed back the hostel. I'm sharing with two Chinese girls and a Taiwanese girl who study Jewellery making in London and were in Munich for this big ole jewellery fair. They felt it was a small world meeting someone from London. I don't think it's that unusual.
Also sharing with a really unique looking Aussie called Courtney; she had a Dutch-Indonesian Dad and an Aussie-Sri Lankan Mum. I headed to the hostel bar with Courtney, and we sat next to two Argentinians, Martin and Lucia. They were studying in a small city in Germany and could speak really good German, but limited English. German seems a pretty unusual language choice for two South-Americans though, doesn't it? They were playing a complex Argentinian card game called Gruco, using a pack of cards with four different suits (apparently it's always different in Argo).
Courtney had been travelling since August on her own. She'd been really shy when she started, and used to find it difficult going into restaurants alone (fairly problematic) or speaking to strangers. Her boyfriend was joining her in a few weeks, and they were heading to London, Berlin, Morocco, Spain, Italy and then New York for Christmas and New Year. They both worked for the National Bureau of Statistics in Australia, and she explained how she'd been focussed on the census Australia had last year (I used my best open university Census chat here; "it's just so important for allocation of medical and education resources"). She wasn't sure about going back there; the work environment is really sexist, and her bosses notoriously ganged up on the women in her position. We had a few drinks and then went to bed. Courtney showed real concern when I painfully slipped into the splits from the wet bathroom.
End of day 24.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)