I must confess that I didn't realise that so many people read this blog. Given my penchant for using this blog as a vehicle for capturing every imaginable whinge, I'm somewhat embarrassed that people take the time to read my diatribes on trains and why I get annoyed at people who don't move fast enough getting on the Tube. But yes, I am pleased all the same.
Having said that, I am probably going to alienate even more people by saying that despite me living on the footstep of Europe, I was (a) too bored (b) too lazy and (c) too cheap to organise some traveling for over the Easter break. I'm finding that even long weekends away can be quite taxing on the ol' boy - the stresses of having to arrange everything, then shelling out money for it, then calculating how much money I lose by not working (I don't get paid for Bank holidays as a contractor), then wondering how I was going to fill in the days wandering around oh, Austria or France or what have you.
It was Frances however who goaded us in to action when we saw that cheap flights to any European destination was disappearing by the minute. By luck, we found some cheap flights to Salzburg in Austria. Salzburg wasn't a place which was high on my priority list, but browsing on the net, decided that it was worthwhile to have a look - though pretty much persuaded by the chance to go on The Sound of Music tour. As always, Taffy's over-active mind imagined him running down the mountains, twirling his outstretched arms, singing, a la Julie Andrews, but with a far more scratchy and pitiful voice.
The week before Easter was unexpectedly busy - and became ill again. Unfortunately my illness warranted a visit to the a NHS Walk-In centre where I spent a cumulative total of 3 hours of my life waiting to see a nurse in a very overstretched and busy centre. At one stage it looked like I would have had to bail out on the holiday, but I got a bit better and it was off to Salzburg. Fortunately our flight out of London was with British Airways - for the uninitiated, a full-service airline such as BA compared to the horrors of Ryanair is an absolute blessing with an enormous cloud hovering on top. Our flight was delayed for an hour, but as Frances is a Qantas gold frequent flyer, she was able to take me into the lounge where I drank wine, ate a full lunch and then proceeded to pilfer snacks and dinky little cans of drink from the fridge to enjoy from our train from Munich to Salzburg.
Unfortunately it was too expensive for us to fly direct to Salzburg airport, so the closest airport was Munich which had reasonable fares. I'm always impressed with the Germans and their efficiency - plenty of non-EU passport checkpoints (where the immigration officer asked me whether I was going skiing - I almost laughed in his face) and a beautifully clean and fast train to the main station in Munich. Although, a nice German man had to help us out with the train tickets, and when we were forced to make an unexpected change in the middle of nowhere, I impressed myself with my ability to navigate the (admittedly easy to understand) subway system. An even bigger bummer we missed the train by a few minutes, forcing us to shelter in the train station food court (where I again impressed myself by remembering my German to ask for Lebekas Semmel which I enjoyed eating the last time I was in Munich) to wait for a slow regional train. We got to Salzburg... eventually... where the only sound was the rain thundering around us.
Salzburg however, is a very picturesque city. Walking from the hotel along the river was really nice - the snow-capped mountains in the background and pretty little (and very expensive) houses lining the river. Of course, there were the usual annoyances such as not being able to find a decent place to eat which wasn't filled with cigarette smoke, and the ubiquitous Mozartklugen chocolate balls being advertised everywhere (and yes, I did succumb). Being my first day on holiday, I had a large breakfast of ham and eggs and then apfelstrudel with vanilla sauce and a coffee. I felt ill for hours afterwards.
Feeling rather bloated and over-indulged, we traipsed through various churches, ate an enormous donut pretzel for lunch (well, I lie, I shared half of it with Frances) and watched men play chess on a board painted on the ground. All in all, it was a lovely morning, but clearly we were waiting for the main event. The afternoon rolled around and it was off to the hills for the Sound of Music tour. I'm not someone who usually likes kitsch tours such as these (ok, I lie again, I love it), but I really must say that it was a lot of fun. We saw the back and front of the Von Trapp house (2 different locations), the pavilion where Liesel and Kurt sing "I am sixteen", the actual Abbey were Maria used to live (incidentally dating back to the year 700 or something like that) and the church where Maria and the Captain got married - yet again, not the actual church where they got married, but a church in a small town outside of Salzburg. The tour guide was hysterical, although towards the end I was thinking that it was more due to his mental state doing this twice a day, every day. Some funny titbits I learnt on the Sound of Music was that most Austrians hate the Sound of Music, that the Von Trapp family actually escaped Austria in a train to Italy and then moved to America, that had the family climbed the Austrian mountains at the end of the movie they would have found themselves in Germany and that Gretel nearly died in the boat scene when all the kids fell out of the boat into the water.
I was so disappointed when the tour ended that I hadn't managed to run down a mountain, singing (erm... screeching) "the hills are alive", so France and I resolved to continue the fun at the Mirabell Gardens where many scenes of Maria and the children on their big day out were filmed. I now have photos of me jumping up the steps (singing "do-re-me"), marching with outstretched hands on the fountain, and running through the big trellis. Frances and I had so much fun that the rest of our tour group (who had followed us to the gardens after the tour) started to copy us. It was very funny though, watching everyone else's interpretation of it. Save, perhaps, the American tourists - we overheard one lady say that she had been on the tour 4 times - it was enough to make Frances and I spit out our Mozartklugen chocolate balls in mirth. Then there was the quintessential American tourist dad - complete with baseball cap, Goretex jacket, bumbag, camera bag strapped to his belt, aviator sunglasses and he was dressed in a way which looked like a Ralph Lauren truck had backed into him. But enough of poking fun at innocent American tourists, I am sure that Australia would refuse to let me back in the country had they seen the antics I got up to in the Mirabell gardens. These memories of course, will become a few of my favourite things.
But how are we going to solve the problem of filling up the next day, with the ice caves closed?
Our first stop on Sunday morning was the birthplace of Mozart with the most aggressive ticket counter woman I have met for a long time. I shouldn't have been surprised at how monumentally sh1t the museum was. In one room, they had upside-down paintings to symbolise how "Mozart turned music upside down" (yes, really), a cot with an ashen white plastic baby (supposedly Mozart as a child), and a replica piano. Definitely worth our 6 euros and the 15 minutes we spent there. Later in the day we went to Mozart's residence located in the Neustadt which was far more interesting. They had old documents and music sheets, and a great audio guide. I usually skip through audio guides, but this one was great in that you got to sample a variety of Mozart's works through his life - including ones that I had never heard before. On one display there was a pile of books which reached the ceiling - it turned out to be the collection of every single one of Mozart's compositions. I guess it never fails to astound me the genius of Mozart - at the age of 4 he was already composing quite complex pieces of music! A far cry from my own experience at the age of 4 - throwing building blocks at Toby, demanding food and sleeping. Yes, I am genius.
Our next few stops was at the Residenz gallery which I thoroughly enjoyed - a collection of modern and renaissance art arranged according to the theme of colour. Frances was unimpressed, but I thought it was great. We also visited the Salzburg Museum. I quote an earlier email to Rob about it:
"...was horrendously boring and unstructured - a collection of crap put together in this new fangled postmodern building. Putting shit together in a nice building does not compensate for having a stupid collection. The toilets however, were very swish."
In adding to the number of museums and sights we visited to clock up maximum value on our touristy Salzburg Card, we breezed through the very strange Fortress with its incredibly boring exhibits, save for the display of torture instruments. They needn't have put out the torture instruments - the museum was boring enough as it was. Other non highlights included the Festival Hall tour which we did where the tour guide spoke for 30 minutes in German, and then a good 45 seconds in English (or so it felt that way). Annoyingly, the Hall where the Von Trapp family had won the singing competition was closed - which meant that our original reason for doing the tour was gone, and we were forced to listen to incomprehensible German about some random lighting system (from what I deduced from the hand gestures).
Finally, having finished everything we had wanted to see I dragged Frances to the Museum of Modern Art where I was a bit surprised how small the collection was. We did end up having an icecream at the restaurant there and got stubbed about 20 euros for 2 icecreams and some water. We were not impressed. Dinner however was a cheapy affair at some random pub - we got a mixed dish to share for 2 which ended up being this enormous pile of meat including 2 big schnitzels, so we were happy.
That final evening it started to snow. At first it was very beautiful in the snow, and then it got cold and miserable as my feet froze over and my coat started accumulating more and more snow. The next morning it was still snowing a blizzard and I was a bit worried about our flight being delayed while standing in the bus shelter, washing the bin in front of us accumulate snow. Fortunately, the Austrians were clearly used to being snowed in and there were no delays - just the usual mass confusion and pushing and shoving to board the Ryanair flight.
But it was back to London where joyfully, the trains weren't running on Easter Monday, leading to a 2.5 hour journey home. But the day wasn't to end with me collapsing into a pile on the couch - Nick was arriving that afternoon and I have been given my instructions, in that he "hadn't come to London to drink tea, old chap".
The sounds of my marching orders, clearly.
Sunday, 30 March 2008
Sunday, 16 March 2008
the spring in the step
The past few weeks have been quite a stress, but it's time to take stock of things as London warms up and more and more yellow daffodils pop up from the ground. It has been quite pretty with daffodils popping out in the middle of nowhere. Staring out the window on the train one day, I saw that daffodils had bloomed out along the tracks. It was certainly a sight for sore eyes. As some of you may know, daffodils are my favourite flower - they are so happy and bright (quite unlike my personality i know), and they are also the emblem for the Cancer Council, of which my mum has a lot of involvement in.
Another little cute thing which I enjoy in London is when I read thelondonpaper on the way home. thelondonpaper is a free newspaper which is given out all over London in the rush home, and it a vastly better newspaper than the London Lite which is also given out as well. In thelondonpaper there is a great little section where people send in pictures of their pets. There have been the cutest pictures sent in (as well as the usual array of horrendously ugly pets), and my favourites include a pair of baby bunny rabbits and this fluffy cat which was standing up on its hind legs - and dressed up in bow tie. It was so funny, and it was hilarious that the kitty cat looked so unhappy being dressed up in that way. There is also a "London picture of the day" where you send in pictures of London life. One memorable picture had a penguin and his keeper making writing on a clipboard - the penguin is looking at the clipboard and the caption is "that's not how you spell my name!".
I'm easily amused.
It's been a busy week - I was sent to Coventry (pun intended, but doesn't have quite the same impact given its factual accuracy) for work. I've now working my way up north, having now visited the east Midlands (Leicester) and the west Midlands (Coventry) on government business. I travelled up on the Virgin train service which was quite slick and very fast - indeed, the entire train was decked out in suits and my ticket price seemed to match. For the privilege of travelling on a peak hour service to Birmingham, I had to pay 109 pounds for a return ticket! Unbelievable! I felt bad, despite the fact that the NHS was paying for my ticket.
To add to it all, I've been having some fun as well. I managed to see another comedy show with Rob last Friday night. Unfortunately the gig we wanted to see had sold out so we went back to the same place. Rob and I again double parked ourselves with beers for the show - only to find that the ticket seller had dudded us and we found ourselves seeing the same comedian. We were getting annoyed when we heard the same jokes, but as the comedian was doing impro, the show got better as it went along. Rob and I looked at each other with relief, and then got pissed after the show. I may or may not have sent drunken messages to people or engaged in drunken calls on the last train home.
My bad.
That weekend Frances and I also went to see a movie in North Greenwich and had dinner out in North Greenwich. North Greenwich isn't that spectacular but it's the closest cinema complex to home. Nor was the food spectacular, and after dinner we had to wait in the cold for the bus home. I complained to Frances that in Melbourne that after dinner out I would get in the car and go home. Clearly, there is much suffering having to rely completely on public transport in London!
My fingers are getting tired talking about my social life which continues its annoyingly frustrating habit of being absolutely packed one weekend and then being miserably quiet the next. That weekend saw me in Greenwich with a colleague from my old job for a cup of Fairtrade tea, and then dinner later on in Brick Lane with Rox, Mel and Ben. I was so pressed for time that weekend that I rushed home from Greenwich, ironed my shirts, then ran out the door to get to Liverpool St. That night I missed the tube to get to London Bridge by seconds, then had to wait 10 minutes for the next northern line tube, only to miss my connection back to Woolwich. I calculated I could get home 5 minutes earlier than waiting 30 minutes for the next train by taking the Jubilee line to North Greenwich and then taking the bus and ended up home 3 minutes earlier than I would have had I waited for the train.
An easy ride home it was not.
Last night I went clubbing for the first time in a while and had a blast. Went with my friends Luc and Andrew and their mates to Soho and danced the night away to a countdown of the top 100 pop tracks. Walking to the nightclub, sheltering underneath umbrellas, I commented that despite the soaking rain (which ruined my hairstyle that evening) the weather was quite mild (it was about 8 degrees). My friends laughed and told me I had made it as an English person - a complaint and a non-complaint about the weather!
We arrived at the huge club at song 75 and danced away until song 30 where by then we were complaining of our sore feet. Not to mention that my lower back wanted to strangle me. By the time I staggered out at 4am, I still had to crawl to the night bus stop for a 50 minute ride home. I'm not a fan of the night bus given how long it takes, but that night I felt ok as I spent most of the time eavesdropping on the conversation. For some reason they started singing themes from TV shows and "Round the Twist" came up - I woke up in confusion hearing the lyrics from a kiddies TV show which I hadn't seen in excess of 15 years! Nevertheless, I got home safe and sound, having company on the walk home with 3 blokes who proceeded to urinate against a wall near home. Charming.
If they were thoughtful they should have done it against the chestnut tree for fertiliser - the chestnut tree is now sprouting new leaves and foliage. I'm looking forward to seeing it with all its foliage again - because then I will know that the chestnuts will come out and I would have come full circle in London.
Just like my bus ride home last night.
Another little cute thing which I enjoy in London is when I read thelondonpaper on the way home. thelondonpaper is a free newspaper which is given out all over London in the rush home, and it a vastly better newspaper than the London Lite which is also given out as well. In thelondonpaper there is a great little section where people send in pictures of their pets. There have been the cutest pictures sent in (as well as the usual array of horrendously ugly pets), and my favourites include a pair of baby bunny rabbits and this fluffy cat which was standing up on its hind legs - and dressed up in bow tie. It was so funny, and it was hilarious that the kitty cat looked so unhappy being dressed up in that way. There is also a "London picture of the day" where you send in pictures of London life. One memorable picture had a penguin and his keeper making writing on a clipboard - the penguin is looking at the clipboard and the caption is "that's not how you spell my name!".
I'm easily amused.
It's been a busy week - I was sent to Coventry (pun intended, but doesn't have quite the same impact given its factual accuracy) for work. I've now working my way up north, having now visited the east Midlands (Leicester) and the west Midlands (Coventry) on government business. I travelled up on the Virgin train service which was quite slick and very fast - indeed, the entire train was decked out in suits and my ticket price seemed to match. For the privilege of travelling on a peak hour service to Birmingham, I had to pay 109 pounds for a return ticket! Unbelievable! I felt bad, despite the fact that the NHS was paying for my ticket.
To add to it all, I've been having some fun as well. I managed to see another comedy show with Rob last Friday night. Unfortunately the gig we wanted to see had sold out so we went back to the same place. Rob and I again double parked ourselves with beers for the show - only to find that the ticket seller had dudded us and we found ourselves seeing the same comedian. We were getting annoyed when we heard the same jokes, but as the comedian was doing impro, the show got better as it went along. Rob and I looked at each other with relief, and then got pissed after the show. I may or may not have sent drunken messages to people or engaged in drunken calls on the last train home.
My bad.
That weekend Frances and I also went to see a movie in North Greenwich and had dinner out in North Greenwich. North Greenwich isn't that spectacular but it's the closest cinema complex to home. Nor was the food spectacular, and after dinner we had to wait in the cold for the bus home. I complained to Frances that in Melbourne that after dinner out I would get in the car and go home. Clearly, there is much suffering having to rely completely on public transport in London!
My fingers are getting tired talking about my social life which continues its annoyingly frustrating habit of being absolutely packed one weekend and then being miserably quiet the next. That weekend saw me in Greenwich with a colleague from my old job for a cup of Fairtrade tea, and then dinner later on in Brick Lane with Rox, Mel and Ben. I was so pressed for time that weekend that I rushed home from Greenwich, ironed my shirts, then ran out the door to get to Liverpool St. That night I missed the tube to get to London Bridge by seconds, then had to wait 10 minutes for the next northern line tube, only to miss my connection back to Woolwich. I calculated I could get home 5 minutes earlier than waiting 30 minutes for the next train by taking the Jubilee line to North Greenwich and then taking the bus and ended up home 3 minutes earlier than I would have had I waited for the train.
An easy ride home it was not.
Last night I went clubbing for the first time in a while and had a blast. Went with my friends Luc and Andrew and their mates to Soho and danced the night away to a countdown of the top 100 pop tracks. Walking to the nightclub, sheltering underneath umbrellas, I commented that despite the soaking rain (which ruined my hairstyle that evening) the weather was quite mild (it was about 8 degrees). My friends laughed and told me I had made it as an English person - a complaint and a non-complaint about the weather!
We arrived at the huge club at song 75 and danced away until song 30 where by then we were complaining of our sore feet. Not to mention that my lower back wanted to strangle me. By the time I staggered out at 4am, I still had to crawl to the night bus stop for a 50 minute ride home. I'm not a fan of the night bus given how long it takes, but that night I felt ok as I spent most of the time eavesdropping on the conversation. For some reason they started singing themes from TV shows and "Round the Twist" came up - I woke up in confusion hearing the lyrics from a kiddies TV show which I hadn't seen in excess of 15 years! Nevertheless, I got home safe and sound, having company on the walk home with 3 blokes who proceeded to urinate against a wall near home. Charming.
If they were thoughtful they should have done it against the chestnut tree for fertiliser - the chestnut tree is now sprouting new leaves and foliage. I'm looking forward to seeing it with all its foliage again - because then I will know that the chestnuts will come out and I would have come full circle in London.
Just like my bus ride home last night.
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