Barbie Museum Prague

Prague Photos

Berlin in pictures

Amsterdam, Berlin, Krakow

Monday 23 February

OK – so enough with the whinging. Although, thank you to all who emailed me after that last entry. I hadn’t realised who was reading this blog! I was tired and grumpy and since I’m travelling by myself, you got the complaints.

(And, I had a thought about my sore back – this is the longest period in the last 20 years that I’ve been away from my flute. Maybe my flute-induced scoliosis is trying to right itself?)

Anyway, back to the travel. Amsterdam. Berlin. Krakow.

I had a break from the hostels in Amsterdam where I stayed with my friend Tikitu (a.k.a. in Dunedin as Samson) and his girlfriend Olga. This stay was timed to coincide with a rembetika session at the Greek restaurant where Olga works. Rembetika is Greek urban underground folk music. I can’t even begin to name the instruments involved, but they derive from the guitar family. Olga, who is Greek, plays most of them as well as the accordion and Tikitu is learning to play. The session was a free-for-all session – if you have an instrument, you join in. I had an instrument. I sort of joined in…

Amsterdam is a nice city, despite the fact that I kept getting lost (I know, I know, this whole getting lost thing is becoming a familiar factor in my travels and hence, these blogs, but in Amsterdam, it’s totally justified – the canals are SO confusing). Anyway, I got to see a lot of Amsterdam that normally I wouldn’t. So there’s a silver lining!

I did the touristy thing and went on a canal cruise, but it was really interesting to see the city from a different angle. I also got a close-up on the houseboats. Tikitu and Olga used to live in a houseboat, and had a been there 3 months earlier, I could have stayed there…

But, they’re fantastic. If I moved to Amsterdam (and I’m not planning to – in the immediate future anyway), I’d be living in a houseboat. Very cool.

From Amsterdam to Berlin. In Amsterdam it rained pretty much all the time. OK – that’s fine, but I’m used to rain. I live in Dunedin. But Berlin – it snowed the ENTIRE time I was there. Genius.

There was snow everywhere (but no snowmen – I was tempted…). Berlin’s a fantastic city and I’m even tempted to go back for a bit longer. I went on a walking tour of the city, seeing all the famous sights and sites particularly from World War II. It’s kind of weird growing up in New Zealand which is so geographically far from Europe, that even though we were affected by the war, and we learn about it at school and we celebrate ANZAC day, it still doesn’t really seem real. Being in Germany, on the site of Hitler’s bunker, seeing the memorial to the murdered Jews really brings it home and somehow makes the war seem a bit more real.

Same with the Berlin wall. I remember the TV footage of the wall coming down, but it didn’t mean anything (9 November 1989 – I had not long turned 13). But to be in Berlin and to see the remaining part of the wall, the path where the rest of the wall was, to see where Checkpoint Charlie stood, and to hear the stories of desperation of those on either side of the wall and the desperate measures they were willing to take in order to escape, makes it so much more meaningful.

Thursday nights in Berlin is when the galleries and museums are free, so I went to the National Art Gallery (that’s not it’s actual name, but I can’t remember what it’s called…something to the same effect, but in German).

Two surprises here – one, more Rodin (so exciting!) but the second, was the original picture I have on one of my flutey books somewhere of Frederick the Great playing the flute. Fred was a very accomplished flutist. His teacher and personal composer was Johann Joachim Quantz, and those of you who have played any Quantz will know it’s not the easiest music in the flute repertoire. Fascinating picture, but something in it bugged me. After staring at it for a while, I realised that his music stand is too high, his posture annoys me and I couldn’t work out how he would turn the pages because there are two candles on his music stand, one on either side of the music. How did he turn the pages without getting burned?

And from Berlin to Krakow, Poland. This was a little scary for me, for although I’m no linguist, I do have some German, a little French and a smattering of Spanish. In Amsterdam the language thing wasn’t a problem because everyone speaks English. But Polish? How much Polish do any of you know? It’s all z’s and y’s and very few vowels…far out. But…I survived! (I even managed to buy a pair of boots using my very rudimentary Polsku – and they’re very cool too).

I wanted to go to Krakow because that’s the city where Nigel Kennedy is now based (if you don’t know who Nigel Kennedy is, then shame on you. I’m not going to tell you because if you don’t know the most awesome violinist to ever walk this earth, then you don’t deserve to know. Philistine.).

Krakow was also completely covered in snow, but was WAY colder than Berlin. At one point, I thought my glasses were freezing to my nose – it was that cold.

I only had one full day, but as it’s not a particularly big city, I could see all I wanted. (Well, what I really wanted was for Nige to be giving a concert that night, but no. He is however playing on the 10th of March, so I’ll head back for that. So exciting.) But it was the final night of the Krakow percussion festival. Well timed Justine. And gosh – it was exciting. The concert I went to featured the percussion students and orchestra of the Krakow music academy, a university-type course. Three percussionists were featured. The first two played a double concerto for vibraphone and percussion (perc = kit with bongos, castanets, triangle, woodblocks, rainstick, marimba, glock, suspended cymbal turned upside down).

This was phenomenal. I sat there with my mouth open the whole time. In the first movement, the guy playing perc used vibrato on the glockenspiel (Percussion 101: the glockenspiel is the metal one). Then in the second movement the girl on vibraphone (Percussion 102: that’s the one you plug in and it vibrates) used double bass bows on the keys. Guess what I’ trying when I get back home? It made a very eerie sound, similar to the theremin (the spooky sound in Dracula movies and in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”), but with more body to the sound. WOW.

So that was Krakow. I’m in Prague now, where it’s cold and rainy. I have a bit of a sore throat and I managed to but Strepsils in Czech!! Multi-lingual or what? I’m going on a walking tour tomorrow, so will keep you posted!

Philosophy...

Monday 16 February

A slight change from the usual. No photos this time. No descriptions of where I’ve been. We’re moving briefly from geography to philosophy, if you will.

Many of you have emailed me or sent me messages on Facebook to the general tune of “you must be really enjoying yourself”, and to a certain extent, yes, I am. But when you say “enjoying yourself” I imagine you’re thinking of me being in glamorous locations, eating exotic food and generally being footloose and fancy free.

And, hey, I have. I’ve stayed in Montmarte, where Picasso and Van Gogh used to hang out, been to shows in London’s West End, and now I’m in Amsterdam where it’s absolutely legal to go to a café, buy marijuana and smoke it in public. But it’s not all like that.

Right now I’m two months into a four month journey. I’m tired, crabby, I’m not eating properly because more often than not I don’t how to ask for what I want or even where to buy food, I can’t speak any of the languages of the countries I’m visiting, and then feel ridiculously inadequate because everyone else can not only speak their own language but also mine and someone else’s too.

My body hurts from carting round a giant backpack, I’m sleeping in the same room as up to 11 other people, most of whom snore and are incredibly messy and make other horrible noises like brushing their teeth.

I’m sleeping in weird beds, I wear the same two sets of clothes all the time, I have no idea of what’s happening in the world news-wise, I’m continually getting lost. I constantly have to think about where my next meal is coming from, wondering if I have enough clean knickers to last me til I can find a laundry, and inhaling a constant steam of second-hand smoke from Europeans who apparently believe that chain-smoking is a good thing.

I've discovered that other countries and cities aren't nearly as magical or as mythical as I had thought. The people eat, talk, smoke, drink, laugh, work, play just as we do in New Zealand.

On occasion I find myself craving New Zealand, or just anything in the English language. I find myself in bookstores, looking at the pitiful single shelf of English language books, just so I can say to myself that there is some printed matter that I do understand. I’ve even considered buying “Cosmopolitan” magazine, just because it was in English.

But…I am still “enjoying myself”. I’m learning. Every day I learn something new. Not necessarily about places and the history etc of where I’m going, though, there’s a fair bit of that.

No, what I’m learning about is people. I’m learning about the way other people interact with each other. The way they treat strangers – with kindness and tolerance, or otherwise.

I’m learning about different modes of transport – bikes, trams, trains, underground trains. I’m learning about houses and what kind of dwellings different peoples deem necessary for protection from the elements. I’m learning about those elements – rain, humidity, snow, constant greyness. I’m learning about languages – similarities between languages, differences between languages.

I’m learning about the different music people listen to, and how it changes from region to region, often changing because of things like how they interact with each other, with strangers, their transport, houses, weather.

I know that I’m only skimming the surface of these countries. A few days in a city is no way to meet the people and fully understand what it is that makes them tick. How different or how similar they are to me. To you. But, it’s enough to get me thinking.

And that’s why I travel.

Paris - Montpellier + Photos

Sunday 08 February

J: Je voudrais une croissant
J: Je suis enchante
J: Ou est le bibliotheque?
J: Voila mon passport
J: Ah, Gerard Depardieu
B + J: Un baguette, ah ha ha, oh oh oh oh

Singing yet?

Pretty much that’s all that was going through my mind as I crossed the linguistical nightmare that is French. If you’re reading this and you’re still at school, here’s my advice: LEARN A LANGUAGE. And no, the language of “music” doesn’t count.

France. Well, what do you say about France, other than IT’S AWESOME. I stayed in a hostel in Montmatre, you know, where Picasso and Van Gogh used to hang out. It’s a very relaxed, arty part of Paris with a nice feel to it (hmm…a very expensive feel too – Paris is probably the most expensive city in Europe…).

I did a walking tour run by a company whose guides don’t get “paid” in the traditional sense; you just tip them at the end. The tours are fantastic, the guides really know their stuff, and they definitely keep you entertained and informed for the 4 hour of the tour.

I stayed 4 days in Paris. The Louvre was okay – they had shut some of the rooms for restoration work, but the Mona Lisa was still open. I was actually pleasantly surprised by her. Everyone had been going on and on about how small the painting was, so I expecting something tiny, but it’s not that small. Also in the Louvre was the Venus de Milo.

But the best part of Paris was the Musee Rodin. Ahh, Rodin. I discovered his work in Cardiff and then again in Liverpool. But in Paris, there’s an entire museum devoted to his sculptures. This museum has been one of the highlights of my trip.

From Paris I headed south to Montpellier (thanks for the tip Caitlin!). Montpellier is in the south of France, on the coast. The central area of the town is made up of cobbled streets with tiny little boutique shops (though try as I might, I couldn’t find a supermarket…). I arrived on a Saturday which was a nice, sunny day. What I didn’t realise, was that on Sundays, Montpellier pretty much closes down for the day. The art gallery was open, which occupied a couple of hours. Otherwise…nothing. Oh, and then it started to rain. Not just drizzle, but someone up there was just upturning buckets of water down. So I gave up. I went back to my hostel and took advantage of the free wi-fi!

Paris Photos

Montpellier Photos

Barcelona Photos

Cadiz Photos

Madrid Photos

Barcelona, Cadiz, Madrid

Anyone who was at Bayfield in 1992 will know the familiar strains of “Barcelona” (a la Freddie Mercury and Montserrat Cabelle). It was the theme song of the Olympic Games that year, the year Danyon Loader, in 7th form, won silver at said games.

Well, I knew absolutely nothing about Barcelona except for that theme song (and I really only knew one word of that… “Barcelona”).

It’s a really cool city. Loads of those little windy streets where you think you’ve gone one way, but really, you’ve actually gone the other. I arrived in Barcelona mid-afternoon, just in time to take a free walking tour of the city. Well, I would have had I not got lost in those little windy streets where you think you’ve gone one way, but really, you’ve actually gone the other. So I just kept wandering through the little windy streets, checking out the city.

The main street, La Ramblas has a pedestrian walkway down the middle where there are magazine and newspaper stands, flower stalls, pet stalls (I kid you not, you could buy a hamster or a canary right off the pavement). There were also some great street performers busking. Mostly the ones who turn themselves into statues, but some others just wandering around wearing odd costumes.

Barcelona to Cadiz. Cadiz is in the south of Spain, again with little windy streets where you don’t know whether you’re coming or going. Because it’s in the south it has quite a humid climate. Again, a lovely city – I could have spent more time there – but unfortunately on my second day there it rained. And if I thought the rain in Montpellier was bad, well – I was wrong. It rained so hard the power was cut off in the afternoon (and the internet for a while too). So I did what every self-respecting traveller does – gives up and headed back to the hostel. It’s actually very nice once on a while to just sit down with a good book (“Twilight” – so good!), a cup of peppermint tea and Facebook Chat.

Then, to Madrid. I arrived about half an hour before the free walking tour was due to start, so I chucked down my bags, and raced down to the meeting point. Thankfully, the town planners of Madrid actually took me into account, and I found the meeting point no problem. After the tour, my mission was to find a copy of the second book in the Twilight series in English. Most bookshops here do have English sections, but unfortunately, they either had just Twilight or none of the books in the series. But multiple copies in Spanish. I assumed that the author actually used more than the 4 words I can speak in Spanish, so abandoned my quest and settled for the last Harry Potter book instead.

Lisbon

I’m in Lisbon, Portugal now. I arrived at 8am local time, after taking the overnight train from Madrid. Lisbon seems nice, but more faded and poor than I thought it would be.

I went to a museum on the recommendation of someone in the hostel – great for three reasons. Firstly, being Sunday, it’s free entry. Secondly, there was a free concert that had just started. It was a group of about 9 performers with 2 singers, 2 recorder players (one of whom double on baroque oboe), a bass player (who also played a cello-type instrument, a bass viol…or something…), a percussionist, a violinist, and two guitar type thingys. One played a lute and a sitar looking thing and the other played little guitary things. If you want proper definitions of these, go ask a music teacher. I haven’t a clue. But they were amazing. They played a bizarre combination of Portuguese/Brazilian/Cuban/Baroque music, which was just wonderful. There was a huge crowd there too, from toddlers to oldies. And third - they had a whole bunch of Rodin sculptures!!

I’m staying in Lisbon for a couple of days, then travelling to Paris via overnight train, to London for a night, then off to Amsterdam to stay with a friend. Apparently on my first night there we’re going to some musicy event at a Greek restaurant. Will keep you posted…

Before I go (and hopefully you haven’t gotten totally bored yet…) here’s one final thought:

What’s weird about being in countries where you don’t speak the language (well, for me anyway), is that any little scrap of information that you’ve ever heard about a place suddenly comes to the forefront of your mind. In France, I constantly had “Faux du fafa” by Flight of the Conchords going round my head (see above) and in Spain, it’s been little bits I’ve remembered from Sesame Street (gracias Maria y Luis) and one line in the song “Pretty Fly For A White Guy” by The Offspring where they count to 6 in Spanish. So I can now count to 6 in Spanish really easily, then after that…

However, I have discovered that you can get by knowing how to say “hello”, “goodbye”, “yes”, “no”, “please”, “thank you”, “can you speak English?” and “I can’t speak [inset language here]”. That is the extent of my Spanish. My Portuguese is limited to “hello”, “goodbye” “yes”, “no”. My French is considerably better than that. In French I can also ask for a ticket, and buy food (thank you FOTC). My German is better than all of these. I don’t know if I’ll be able to have a conversation in German, but I do know a lot more. Remember: LEARN A LANGUAGE. Doesn’t matter which one. Just learn it. Believe me, no matter what you think, you WILL travel one day, and actually being able to actually ask for a chicken sandwich is SO much better than any kind of sign language you can invent. Trust me – I speak from experience.