Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Home Again: Readjusting to Everyday Life

Has it already been two weeks since I got home ?

Since getting back it's felt as though my life prior to the trip has simply recommenced, with little change. I've obviously noticed some changes in myself. I seem to have outgrown the comfort zone that I had established for myself.

The wonderful thing about this is that I feel able to forge some new paths. I don't mean making any radical decisions, I've had my fill of them for a little while, but I rather mean that I feel empowered to steer my life around some different obstacles.

I don't like the idea of being too comfortable.

I went for a walk with my dog the other day, went down to the park at the end of my street and walked the same way I walked around Bratislava or Berlin, but I noticed a big difference in how it felt. The familiarity of my surroundings meant my eyes passed over them without really seeing them. The human mind has a tendency (with good reason) to ease cognitive load, and one facet of this is that familiar things are dismissed in favour of perceiving and seeking to understand the new elements in the scenery.

Overseas this meant that every stroll around the city was awe-inspiring. The smell of the air, the colour of the sky, the feel of the ground under my feet; everything was remarkable.

My point is not that I need to move house every time things get familiar. I suppose the point I'm trying to make is that I never want to get so comfortable with my life that the amazing aspects of it cease to be remarkable.

I suppose my point is the age-old "count your blessings" philosophy.

BUT: just because this philosophy is familiar to you, doesn't mean it isn't important - and it doesn't mean it can't have immediate and lasting relevance.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Day 70 - Homeward Bound

Surprise :)

I had wanted to keep my return to Australia a surprise for a number of reasons:

a) I was never sure exactly when I would be coming home, especially given my experiences of the last week or two,

b) I didn't want to set a precedent that I would then feel obliged to fulfil,

and

c) because I dig the idea of surprising my friends and family.

Point A has been dealt with exhaustively in this blog. I've had such an incredible number of amazing experiences, so many of them being difficult to live but hilarious to recount. None of them I regret, because none of them can be changed.

This is where point B comes in: I feel ready to come home, and it has nothing to do with a length of time spent.

I set out on this journey to spread my music around Europe, to overcome my performance anxiety and hear a wide range of opinions on my CD. I have accomplished all three.

I also set out on this journey, as strange as it sounds, to talk to myself.

There is a great word in french, dépaysé. It literally means "de-countried", but can be understood as something closer to disoriented. It bears with it, however, a feeling of being entirely removed from your habitual life, feeling out of place. I have spent a lot of time on this trip feeling dépaysé.

It's as though my life in the recent past has been too noisy for me to hear myself. I know that, typically, I have a good internal dialogue that enables me to nut things out and get to the bottom of them. On this trip I've had the time and the peace to have long discussions with myself, occasionally out loud. This, coupled with my appearance at certain points on this trip, would have been wonderfully worrisome to other passengers in the first class train coaches. It took me feeling completely alone in some places in order to really connect the dots and make sense of things.

There has been a spectacular balance of incredibly taxing tasks, both physically and mentally; and still, serene moments. The former usually involved either travelling between cities or having no money (or both), while the latter was generally spent either on a train or with my guitar. In my post from Lyon I outlined it probably as best I can:  It's as though life has led me up the mountain, up the long and tortorous path, only to show me the view - and I'm surprised by how far I've come. I'm surprised by the height of the mountain, by how far I can see into the distance.

So, although the voyage was essentially "cut short" by the loss of passport disabling me from going to the states, nothing has been lost. Everything remains contained in this cosmologically brief adventure which will never be re-lived. I've assembled enough stories to last me years, and I have in my heart what feels like a well of magical moments that I can draw from whenever I wish. On top of this, I've discovered the core of my resilience. I know where it lies and how strong it is, and it is strong enough to be the foundation of anything that I may want to achieve in the future.

It's a marvellous thing to reach for your limits and discover that they stretch farther than you dare extend your hand.

So, veni vedi vici. I've never done anything more worthwhile.

Thank you to everyone who was part of my magical wanderings.

To those: that I met while travelling, all those that gave me a place to stay (often with only a few hours' notice), those who dropped a coin into my guitar case, who bought a CD, who sent me photos they took of me, who came and talked to me between songs, who defended me against Police officers, gave me directions, gave me free beer, translated important information given by civil servants, agreed to play my CD in their youth hostel or café or restaurant, gave me constructive criticism, used their student card to get me a free hamburger, suggested good places to play in the city, taught me outrageously long words, kept me company in cold train stations in the middle of the night, gave me optimistic advice, bought me a meal, and those who were just simply friendly.

Merci, Danke, Dank U, Dakujem, Tak, Thank you.

You are the substance to my dreams.

:)

- Tim

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

The Journey

Click image to enlarge.
(Colour coded each journey by date. Note atrocious trips, those where lessons were learnt, marked in dark grey as well as brown.)

Friday, October 22, 2010

Day 66 - Passportless in Paris

It's almost as though the universe read my last post and decided to pull out all the stops.
I say "almost", because this is not the universe's fault but my own, but the universe is an easier entity to blame - it doesn't tend to defend itself very vocally.

So yeah, it so happens that on my TGV from Frankfurt to Paris (during which I enjoyed stimulating conversation with Mark, the Canadian fellow seated next to me) I left my little document holder containing my passport, plane tickets, eurail pass and travel insurance information. It even had some mini matches that I had bought for my sisters from Salzburg, I had placed them there thinking, "they'll be safe here, I definitely won't lose this."

I've become very familiar with the staff in Paris Est's lost and found department, as well as the Australian Embassy (lovely place). After establishing that the passport could not be found (the cleaning staff didn't find it in the TGV apparently and the station where it went afterwards didn't find it either), I went about applying for an emergency passport. By this stage I had already missed my 10:30am plane to the USA, but I had cancelled it prior to take-off in the hope that I could re-schedule it for another day. Once I had my emergency passport I made my way to the US embassy to plea my case, thinking (naïvely) that I could stroll into it the same way I had strolled into the Aussie one, and have a chat to one of the staff members.

Apparently, this is not the case. In order to enter the embassy you need an appointment. In order to make an appointment you need to make a phone call. The phone call will cost you (before even making your appointment or asking any questions) €15. Following this appointment you may be eligible for a visa application. I didn't find out how much this cost, but I imagine it would be exorbitant. Once you've lodged your application it can take weeks to be approved.. so in the end, it didn't look feasible. I was very disappointed.
I hadn't slept in a few days either, one thing having led to another, so resilience was at an all-time low.

But, it doesn't matter. Quoth Mirjam, it can't be changed now, so I'd be better off looking forward and making the best of things, which I intend to do.
At least I can get back to Australia, at least my parents were able to lend me money, at least I am still alive and well. Some might say you know you're scraping the barrel of optimism when you revert to being thankful for your health, but I genuinely am.

Things don't always go to plan ("nothing happens the way you think"), in fact it's more interesting when they don't. Some of my favourite experiences have been impromptu, and everything from tomorrow onwards is going to be pretty impromptu !

:)

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Lesson 2: How To Survive A French Strike

Gare de Dijon-Ville.
In case of "La Grève Française", the best course of action is a swift departure from France. Preferably this should be done prior to the commencement of the strike, but if no notice is given or if you fall ill will salmonellosis, then you will have to follow the following instructions:

1. Arrange a destination for your exile. Call them and let them know you're on your way, that you'll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. If your chosen destination is only a few hundred kilometres away, inform your hosts that you should arrive the following evening. If, however, you're attempting to travel to the far north of Germany, to the Danish border.. then you should still make it the following evening..? Surely it won't take longer than 15 hours to get there ?

2. Go to the train station first thing Friday morning and try to leave Dijon. There won't be any trains operating that day, but at least they can inform you of the first train out the following morning, at 7:30. Don't try to make a reservation as they'll be blocked due to strike action. Instead just have the ticket window attendant promise you that the trains listed will in fact be running, and that you'll be in Kiel by 9:30pm on Saturday.

3. The next morning, it would be very unhelpful if you were to forget your luggage straps at the house and only realise when you get out at the train station. Avoid doing this. Otherwise, your first train will depart without any problems, and you'll be glad. 

4. 8am: When you arrive at Besançon, remain calm as you discover that all departing trains have been cancelled for the morning. Speak courteously to the gentleman at the information window, who informs you that you're not the only one wanting to get to Strasbourg, and that he'll see what he can do.

5. Make friends with Megan, a girl from California, as she is also needing to get to Germany. It's with her that you'll spend the next 4 hours, as you wait for the replacement train, and she will be lovely company.

6. In the time you have, go to the ticket window to enquire about connecting trains in Germany. Amazingly, the french lady will issue you with a new itinerary, one that sees you arriving in Kiel only one hour later than originally planned, despite the extra 4 hours waiting, no high speed trains and twice as many changes. This will surprise you, as it should. You may even feel a sense of foreboding. You should.

7. 12:30pm: Hop on the overcrowded train for Belfort, where you change for Mulhousse, where you eventually change for Strasbourg. You should arrive there at 3:40pm as planned.

Note: It's at about this time that you should have a look at a map and cross-reference it with your itinerary, just to be sure that there have been no mistakes made.

If you didn't look at a map, the following list of instructions apply to you:

 Gare de Strasbourg.
8. Hop on the same train as Megan for Stuttgart, as indicated by your itinerary.

9. 7:20pm: Board the train at Stuttgart bound for Esslingen, as indicated by your itinerary.

10. 7:30pm: At Esslingen your itinerary indicates that you must wait for 2 hours before boarding a train for Eutin, which, according to your itinerary, is only 7 minutes away. Wait for half an hour before deciding to check at which platform your train for Eutin arrives.

11. When you realise your train for Eutin doesn't exist, seek help from a passer-by named Mirjam. She's never heard of Eutin, but if it's only 7 minutes away then surely a taxi would be fairly inexpensive.

12. When the taxi driver says he's never heard of Eutin, as well as the other members of the public who are waiting for taxis, explain to him that you need to get to Kiel.

13. The taxi driver and the other folks nearby will begin to laugh at you, and Mirjam will look concerned, and you are right to be worried. The taxi driver says to you "Do you know where is Kiel ?" You will discover that it is 700km away from your present location.

14. It's now 8:15pm and you are on the verge of a mental breakdown. Mirjam saves you, though, with her amazing optimism. She tells you that you can't change anything now, so you may as well make the most of it. The wisdom in her words is irrefutable, so you pull yourself together. Mirjam will suggest that you accompany her back to Stuttgart station where you will surely be able to make another plan, which you should do.

15. When Mirjam leaves you at the information desk it is 8:45pm. Give her a CD as thanks, even though she will say she feels like a thief.

16. Acquire an itinerary for Kiel, being sure to double check that there are no errors in this one. Proceed to the ticket window to reserve a bed, as the only remaining trains are night trains.

17. The train at 10:20 will seem perfect, giving you 8 hours of sleep before your first change, and arriving in Kiel at 8:30am. Unfortunately, reservations close 2 hours before the departure of the train, so you won't be able to take this one. You will, therefore, be forced to reserve a bed on the 1:30am train, with a change every 3 hours. It means you will probably not sleep much tonight, but at least you still arrive at 10:30am.

7.50 for all this ! 
18. Phone your hosts in Kiel from a payphone and tell them the story thus far, and that they should expect you the following morning at 10:30. From here, proceed directly to McDonald's for some emotional eating.

19. It's at about 10:30pm that you should wearily walk into the only warm place in the station: a café.

20. Befriend the girl seated in front of you, and be very glad you did. Her name is Lisa Maria, she's from southern Germany and is en route to Paris to see her friend. She will be splendid company for the next few hours until the departure of your train. She will also teach you a few long German compound words including Donaudampfschifffahrtskapitänsmütze, which is the hat that the captain of a steam boat on the Danube river would wear.

21. It is largely due to her smiling face that you don't notice the passing hours, and that you remain cool when you hear that your train is delayed 30 minutes due to, believe it or not, German strike action. Yes, it seems that Stuttgart is the only train station in all of Germany where one could have had this problem, as there is a great controversy surrounding its redevelopment. Out the front of the station you can hear shouting and music and police sirens.

22. 1:30am: The staff at the train station will assure you that the delay will not affect your connection in Koblenz at 5am. Don't believe her, because at 5:10am you will be in Koblenz and your train for Kiel will be gone.

23. It is here in Koblenz, after 24 hours of travel and no sleep yet, that you will discover a stone of resilience within you that says, "so what ?"

24. Wait an hour for a train to Hamburg, where you know you can change for Kiel. Sleep solidly in your seat.

25. At 11:20am, board the train from Hamburg for Kiel.

26. At 12:36pm, disembark from the train and be overjoyed to see Kiel.

Even though you're here only 2 nights before you have to return to Paris.

So what ?
I still managed to busk in Kiel. It was very, very cold, though.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Day 54 - Doctor Dijon

Delicious but deadly
I seem to have contracted salmonellosis. The only likely culprit is the homemade sushi I ate a day before becoming decidedly unwell. Attached is the last known footage of said sushi. Maude, by a strange coincidence, suffered no such ailment.

In any case, I've otherwise enjoyed my return to Dijon. I managed all the same to play in the markets again, and sold another big stack of CD's, et alors je dois vous remercier de votre générosité :)

The coins earned that morning were used to pay for the visit to the doctor that afternoon.
My favourite spot in the markets
On Tuesday the French people will resume doing what they do best: going on strike. This means I either have to leave tomorrow or risk being stuck for up to several weeks. It's a concern. Needless to say, I am not well enough to be being too adventurous, so in all likelihood I'll be staying put. I suppose I'll just have to spend a bit more time at the markets.

:)

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Day 46 - Salzburg to Belgium


My spot in Linzer Strasse, Salzburg.
Since I last wrote, I have been to Salzburg, Austria; to Gent, Belgium; and to Namur, in Belgium's south. All three are absolutely gorgeous cities, and I had a blast while I was there.

Salzburg, as many of you may know, was the birthplace of Mozart and the setting of the film, The Sound of Music. It is the fourth largest city in Austria, with between 150,000 and 200,000 inhabitants. I stayed in the Yoho Youth Hostel on Paracelsusstrasse, where they play The Sound of Music every morning on the DVD player. This is really cool for tourists, I can't imagine how much the staff despise the movie, though. I watched it twice.

I experienced some awesome nightlife, and happened to be there at the same time as an awesome festival, with rides and pretzels and currywurst and beer and chocolate.. you get the idea. Heaps of fun.

I also had an unbelievably generous audience in the streets of Linzer Strasse. Thank you so much to those who bought CD's ! :)

Salzburg is a beautiful city. I had an awesome few nights there.

Me eating some Belgian fries with Sari
From there I went to Gent, which is a city in Northern Belgium where they speak Flemish Dutch. There are roughly 250,000 people living there, and they have a seriously rockin' student community. I was able to tag along to the Student Kick-Off, which was an awesome party with bands and beer and lots of fun.

I was bewildered by how beautiful the streets are in Gent. Truly the most beautiful city I have visited thus far on the trip. I busked beside the canals, which was a lovely setting. Thank you to those bought a CD :)

From Gent I travelled southwards, to Namur.

Namur is the capital of Wallonia, the Southern (French-speaking) portion of Belgium. It has a population of a little over 100,000 people and is home to a large number of students. On Saturday mornings there's a market in the centre of town, and on Avenue Cardinal Mercier there's a bakery that sells stuffed toys as well as delicious pastries.

Amazing busking in Namur's Saturday market
I have fallen in love with this city. It is gorgeous and small enough to walk around in a day. I spent Sunday afternoon with Maude walking around La Citadelle, which is an old medieval fortress perched upon a large hill. From the top you get a beautiful view over the city.

This morning I busked in the markets and was absolutely blown away by how generous and friendly everybody is here. People kept approaching me just to chat and wish me well on my travels, and an astounding number purchased CD's. Merci mille fois à vous, votre générosité m'a vraiment touché :)

Some passers-by took photos
So far I think my destinations in Belgium have been the prettiest. Both by their architecture, as well as their inhabitants.

There's a vet school here in Namur, so I'll have to go and investigate that on Monday :)

Otherwise, I have nothing more to recount at this time. I'll write another blog post from my next destination, which is yet to be decided ! Ah, the thrill of aimless wandering.

:)

Tim

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Day 37, Continued - Blissful Bratislava

My spot in Medická záhrada (a park)
To get from Vienna to Bratislava (a distance of about 60km), you can take a bus ride of about an hour and a half. Even better, a ticket on such a bus will only set a person my age back by 6 euros and 90 cents. Bargain, for an international bus trip. 

The ticket window didn't accept credit card (don't ask me why an international bus terminal doesn't have an EFTPOS machine. T-shirt stores in eastern european city squares have EFTPOS machines). Anyway, I only had 6.50 in my wallet (remaining from past busking success). The ticket vendor very graciously let me off the last 40 cents and gave me my ticket.

I cheerfully strolled over to the bus and started to load my luggage into the bus's hold. I got my big suitcase in, and was just about to put my guitar in when the bus driver stopped me and said something about 1 euro. I took this to mean that to put the rest of my luggage into the (almost empty) hold would cost me 1 euro. So I grudgingly picked up my stuff and mounted into the bus, awkwardly slotting things into the luggage racks, and propping the guitar up next to me.

It was about 15 minutes into the bus ride, when we'd stopped at some traffic lights, that the bus driver turned around and repeated to me something about 1 euro. I told him I didn't speak German, to which he replied, "Luggage. 1 euro."

It seems that in the cost of a ticket on the bus is not included the cost of wanting to take anything on the bus with you. I understand that 6.90 is a rock-bottom price for a bus ticket, but I really would rather settle my costs at the ticket window, rather than have to explain to the bus driver mid-journey that I used all my coins to buy the ticket.
This is the bus driver

He seemed very disrguntled, so I decided to scrounge at the bottom of the pockets in my bag. I managed to find 25 cents, which I gave to him, saying that it was all the money I had on me, unless he accepted credit card.

"THAT'S OKAY !" Says Mr. Bus Driver, "THERE'S AN ATM AT OUR NEXT STOP WHERE YOU CAN DRAW THE REST OF THE MONEY !"

So, at the next stop he instructs me to go find an ATM to withdraw his 75 cents.
Great afternoon :)
The rest of the journey was without incident. In fact, my whole stay in Bratislava has been great. I've done some exploring, as well as some busking. Busking was lovely today, with great weather and lovely listeners.

Thank you to those who bought a CD today :)

I've quite enjoyed Bratislava, especially the fact that I can buy groceries to last me two meals from the Tesco across the road for under 5 euros.

Just a note to other travellers, though: I was told that everybody in Bratislava speaks English very well. The person who told me this piece of information was misinformed. Practically nobody speaks English.

That's not a problem, though. It enriches the experience. It does mean that I once again am treated (probably rightly so) as an ignorant western tourist.

So, tomorrow I return to Austria, to see what Salzburg is like. I'll remember to bring enough money for the bus. And for my luggage.

:)

Tim

Day 37, Continued - Vilified in Vienna

Tasty lunch
The following morning I had planned to leave early for Vienna, considering the train ride from Aarhus is about 19 hours.

Yeah, didn't happen. I tried, but unfortunately I had just missed the last day train, meaning I would have to wait another 6 hours before taking the night train. This meant a few unforeseen costs (ie, couchette reservation), but in the end I got there. While I was still in Denmark I decided to have a look at hats (as a musician I feel I need a hat), and found one that pleased me. I bought it for 59 DK, amounting to around AU$13, which I thought a bargain. Especially considering that it is a very nice hat.

I had an uncomfortable sleep on the night train, but a sleep nonetheless. I had James Brown's classic "Night Train" running through my head the whole journey, for obvious reasons.


The view from my hostel. Truly amazing.
The result of taking this Night Train was that I lost a night in Vienna (having already booked my hostels a week in advance). I, therefore, made the decision to get right into busking so as not to miss the opportunity. So, upon arriving at my hostel, I gathered my things and trekked into the city centre.

It has become my custom to try my luck in the city centre first, and busk for as long as I can before the authorities ask me to move along (as they invariably do in busy cities), after which I happily move to a more secluded location, like a park or a promenade beside a river, where I generally enjoy myself more than in the city's centre anyway.


Spot next to the University
My stay in the city centre was particularly brief this day, but not due to the authorities. Instead, I was made to move on because of a particularly self-righteous Austrian man, who defended the system of street performer registration with disproportionate passion. The details of my conversation with this man (who approached me of his own accord) form a story on their own, but are a bit long-winded. Long story short: he stormed off to call the Police. I think he misunderstood what I was trying to ask him.

So, I moved to a park next to Vienna's University and played happily there for an hour or so. Thank you to those who bought a CD :)

The next day, I left for Bratislava :)

Day 37 - One Day I Went to Aarhus

Aarhus Central Train Station
Well, the past week has seen me visit some interesting places :) This naturally means a long blog post, so get ready for it:

As the end of my last blog post indicated, I was on my way to Aarhus, Denmark. The inspiration for this trip had everything to do with a poem that I studied at school in my final year by Seamus Heaney. The poem's title is "Tollund Man", and the poem begins thus: "Some day I will go to Aarhus/To see his peat-brown head".

You can find the full poem at the following address: http://www.ibiblio.org/ipa/poems/heaney/the_tollund_man.php

I must make it perfectly clear, though: I dislike this poem intenseley. Possibly, in part, due to how saturated we were by it at school.. But I think that it is largely due to the fact that it just isn't a nice poem.

The idea of going to Aarhus, however, was just too awesome to pass up.


One of the canals in Aarhus
The city itself has about 300,000 inhabitants, making it the second-largest city in Denmark (after Copenhagen). It is located on the mouth of a small river (indeed, Aarhus means "river mouth" in old Danish), and has a few nice canals in it. The currency of Denmark is the Danish Kroner, which is worth about 7.5 euros as of the time of writing this article (for current market rates, visit http://www.xe.com/.. And then go outside and do something interesting). Aarhus doesn't sell stickers with the city's name printed thereon.


Busy town, Silkeborg
To the east of Aarhus, about an hour's train ride, is the town of Silkeborg. If you, like me, are a trusting person, then you will believe Heaney when he says that the Tollund Man is in Aarhus. However, you would be misled, as the Tollund Man is not in Aarhus but in Silkeborg. Maybe Silkeborg's three-syllabled name was unsuitable for Heaney's requirements of poetic meter, whereas Aarhus fits better. In any case, we won't waste any more time on conjecture around the motivation for Seamus Heaney's deception.


Silkeborg Museum
So, in Silkeborg is the Silkeborg Museum. It is a nice little museum, with some nice artifacts from thousands of years ago, extending through the middle ages to the recent past. Among the oldest of Silkeborg Museum's items is the Tollund Man himself, who dates from the 4th century BC.

So I went and saw him. The exhibition is nicely set up, and his head is very well preserved, right down to the stubble on his face. Unfortunately in the 1950's (when he was discovered) preservation techniques were such that only the head, fingers and feet could be adequately protected from deterioration. The body is, therefore, a reconstruction, but a very convincing one. The benefit of the fingers being conserved is that the Tollund Man's thumbprint is the oldest fingerprint on record.


The man himself
 So yeah. Tollund Man.

Otherwise, my activities in Aarhus also included playing guitar and eating pizza. Both were enjoyable experiences. On my first night in Aarhus I sat down and played guitar with another lady at the hostel, who turned out to be Bodil Ashkenazy, whose father-in-law is the famous Vladimir Ashkenazy. She is a musician herself, and has a lovely voice. We exchanged CD's, which was great :)


Beer and Busking - great Sunday arvo
As for busking, I had a great time playing in the pedestrian mall for a few hours on Sunday afternoon. Everyone was very generous and, as always, thank you so much to those who bought a CD :)

Part of my audience were two Lithuanian guys who had come to Aarhus to study. They gave me beer, I gave them CD's, and we sat and chatted for a little while. Wonderful afternoon.

The next blog post constitutes my trip to, and brief stay in, Vienna, Austria :)

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Journey Thus Far

Click image to enlarge.
(Had to redo map, as Aarhus was originally not on the itinerary)

Friday, September 17, 2010

Day 31 - Hungry for Hamburg(er)

This photo requires no caption.
Ok, I'll get it out of the way before I proceed: One of the primary incentives for me to come to Hamburg was the possibility of eating a hamburger here. This I did (with schoolgirl-like excitement) in spectacularly anti-climactic fashion on my first day by paying a visit to Burger King. So there. That's one tick off the bucket list.

I had considered making a brief aside into the desirability of advancing towards the completion of one's bucket list (or, things to do before you kick the proverbial bucket), but the content seemed morbid no matter how tactfully I phrased it. I'll therefore say (optimistically) that my bucket list is an ever-expanding entity, and chasing its expansion will be my joie de vivre.
To return to Hamburg, let me Wikipedia it for you: 

This photo is not allowed. Shhh.
Hamburg is a city-state in the north of Germany, having some 1.8 million inhabitants in the city itself. To include the wider metropolitan region is to more than double this figure. Hamburg's port is the third largest in Europe and the eighth largest in the world, and is a highly important centre of shipping. Wikipedia will not tell you that there is a Burger King in the Hauptbahnof (central station) where it is verboten to photograph signs of hamburgers, no matter their cultural or religious significance to you as a person. A hamburger will cost you €1 (as of the time of this blog post), and how rewarding this experience is for you is an entirely personal matter.

Spitalerstraße
Proceeding west from the central station, you come upon Spitalerstraße, a main shopping strip. I set up here for about an hour and a half today, and was given the most generous reception of any town thus far.

Thank you so much to those that listened and bought a CD today :)

Unfortunately towards the end of my set I started to feel a sore throat coming along, which I am hoping will not worsen with time. Tomorrow will see me venture to Aarhus, Denmark for a few nights, where I hope to make the most of the Bryggedage festival taking place in Den Gamle By. I have, by the way, not the faintest idea how either of these names are pronounced. As a result, it should be a fascinating, and I anticipate having a serious ball :) Being sick would be a total downer in this regard.

So tomorrow: Denmark. However, I can't leave Hamburg without checking out the nightlife, which is on the cards for this evening.

So, as they say here in Northern Germany: Tschüß ! (seriously. that's how it's spelt) :)

Tim

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Journey Thus Far

Click image to enlarge.

Day 30 - Bountiful Busking in Berlin

My spot in Mauerpark
Welcome to Berlin, a city filled to the brim with history.

During my stay there I was able to get around on a free walking tour, guided by an Aussie tour guide named Theo. If ever you're in Berlin and want a fantastic overview of the major sites, peppered with funny anecdotes pertaining to their historical significance, I thoroughly recommend Brewer's Berlin Tours. Ask for Theo.
I could write on and on about how wonderfully rich I found Berlin to be, but I honestly don't know where to begin. Suffice it to say: It's worth a visit. Plus, drinks are very cheap. Big plus, considering the city's nightlife is the stuff of legend.

As far as busking goes, I set myself up in Mauerpark, a 17 acre strip of grass that once formed part of the death strip between the borders of East and West Berlin. Every Sunday, thousands of people flock to this park to relax and enjoy a wide range of free entertainment. Needless to say, a good place to busk.

Originally I had intended to set myself up in the markets immediately adjacent, as I thought that this was the main site of activity. It was only after I was unable to find a place in the market that I set myself up on the grass, next to a path that ran the length of the park. As it turns out, this was probably the best place I could have set myself up, and I played happily for most of the day to a cheerful crowd of passers-by, with a festival feeling in the air.

"The smile on your face..."
That's truly what the Mauerpark market is. It is a weekly festival. To name one of many attractions, there is what could possibly be the world's largest open-air karaoke. Here I stopped to listen to a guy belting out Ronan Keating's "When You Say Nothing At All", which the crowd of well over a thousand people received with much screaming and applause.

Wonderful.

It's even made me consider returning to Berlin on the occasional Sunday, just to be there again. Unfortunately, though, I think the weather will cause things to start calming down. I was very lucky with the weather on Sunday, it was beautiful.

So that's my Berlin experience in a small shell of a nut. At present I am based in Hamburg in Germany's north, relaxing while the weather worsens. If I get a clear spell I'll venture out into the streets of the city's centre. I'll let you know how that goes.

:)

Tim

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Journey Thus Far

Click image to enlarge.

Day 27 - High Holland

Bikes are such an awesome photographic subject
It was at about the time that I was arriving in Amsterdam that an integral piece of information made itself clear to me: in the Netherlands, they speak Dutch. I do not speak Dutch. As a result, I felt like a right arse approaching members of the public service and expecting them to go out of their way to speak my language.

What an arrogant anglophone, I am.

Fortunately, it seems that the near totality of the population of Amsterdam has a very good understanding of English. In fact, I heard English on the streets more often than I heard Dutch. Interestingly enough, the most common accent I heard was Australian.

Despite the linguistically accommodating nature of the Dutch, I was still required to try and pronounce the name of the street on which my youth hostel was located. Luckily it was on an easy-to-remember-roll-off-the-tongue street: Leidsekruitstraat.

It's not pronounced the way you'd think.

Moreover, for future reference, do not confuse this street with the street immediately adjacent to it named Leidsestraat. They are definitely not the same street.

In any case, though, I eventually made it to the hostel in one piece and took my baggage up the three flights of stairs to room number 15, where I installed myself and got comfortable. I met some awesome folks and went for a walk around the centre of the city (which is absolutely beautiful, by the way).

There are hundreds of bikes everywhere. You can't walk a few metres without hearing the ding of a bell behind you. Amsterdam is the first place I ever encountered bike-rage. If you don't believe that a man can be intimidating just by the insistent and aggressive ring-ring of his bicycle bell, I beg you to re-evaluate.

In a chain of stores called "Australian Ice Cream and Chocolate" you can buy delicious.. ice creams and chocolate. They have nothing to do with Australia, they don't even pretend to have anything to do with Australia. It doesn't matter, though, because they are delicious.

Under the bridge in Vondelpark
Unfortunately the weather for most of the days I was in Amsterdam restricted the profitability of my busking. I set myself up under the bridge in Vondelpark. Wonderful acoustics, but unfortunately the rain meant that not too many people were interested in going for a walk in the park. It was fun nonetheless, and I did get some generous donations.

All in all, a beautiful city.

The next stop on my trip is Berlin, where I am sitting now. A blog post to come (with photos) in the next few days :)

Tim