Vienna: One Big New Years Eve

According to my guidebook (which has about 60 typos and at least 4 wrong stats), Austrians are conservative. Hmm. So the first afternoon I got here I walk into a 10,000 strong gay pride parade and concert complete with the pink and glowing "Fuck the State and Masturbate fun bus" and lifeguards in laytex, cheered on by mum and dad. And then the next day I go on a walking tour featuring the "underground tunnel" connecting between the Opera House and the Sacher Hotel, which couples used to meet for extramarital affairs during an opera performance back in the 18th century, which gave birth to the very very very long and extended opera sessions here. (job creation at the same time, two birds with one stone, v clever).

The guide book goes onto state that most budget travellers may well be overwhelmed by Vienna´s diet of museums and operas. Which is only half true. The other half of the truth is that they spend their time entirely eating gelatis, sunbathing, dressing up, eating fish¨n chips, listening to free good music (some are albiet crystal), and smelling roses. Honestly I´ve never seen any one actually work seriously here. The bartenders are always drunk for example, and the food vendors are always eating, and the musicians are having so much fun that the concert that I went to involved a large anvil and a shot gun.

Thirdly, my guide book stipulates, that if New York is the Big Apple, then Vienna is the Big Wedding Cake (ie. palaces, castles, churches etc). The better description is that Vienna is like one big new years eve. The locals do nothing but party party party, twenty four seven. I wake up in the morning and see kids dancing outside. I take a train to the Danube Island and people are jumping on giant trampolines and sipping cocktails at 11am. I walk into the street and housewives are lunching to the tune of If I was a Rich Man and a string quartet on Four Seasons competing just 10 meters down, and in the evening when I walk out of the Concert Hall bejewelled and beribboned people run through the street pouring champagne onto the footpath and every one is singing some song of some sort. In the summer, which started today, the Rathause (town hall) puts on free musicals on screen EVERY NIGHT. All I can think of is new years eve 1999, but only that it doesn´t end.

Throw out your guidebooks every one, come party in Vienna!!

A Gastronomous Proportion of Chicken Goulash

Being the lucky girl that I am I had the pleasure of walking into the opening of the Hungarian annual Gastronomz Festival held at the gardens of the Royal Palace. 1500 Florents (4 Euros) gets you four days of entry, all you can manage free tastings, and hours and hours of entertainment by local performance artists.

The grand opening was marked by a gypsy dance troop which enthrawed the drunken crowd with a mock execution followed by an evening of tap dancing. The festival was a showcase of over 200 companies (half of them being alchohol producers) of varying sizes selling all sorts of stuff I've never seen before. But one thing seems to stay the same - they add paparika to everything they eat!! Some of the high lights included a giant chicken goulash stewed in the biggest paella plate I've seen in my life, goose pate, traditional pasta cooked on open fire, giant pig trotter sausages, savoury plum jam and sweet dumplings with caramel fillings. Low light definitely goes to the shot of apricot liquer which burnt the rest of my oesophagus lining and ruled out tastings for the rest of the day...

Budapest: The Weird and the Wonderful

I really don't know what to make out of Hungary by my short stay in Budapest. While I've been on my whirlwind tour of Europe like a mad speed dating evening, I had been able to grasp and figure out a little bit about the culture and the national psyche quite quickly at most of the places I've been to. But so far its been a little hard here. I must admit that I am quite ignorant about Hungarian history apart from being a huge fan of the movie Sunshine (which was one of the reasons why I wanted to come to Budapest the first place). Perhaps its because so far the language barrier has been the biggest, and, um, would it be a cop out if I said that I have been constantly traveling under the influence again?

Its more like a collection of impressions and objects of interest rather than a fuller experience of what this country is like. In a really unusual way, the history, culture, art, food and fashion is completely disjoint or almost mutually exclusive with each other. Its more like a badly curated museum of sorts. When I first got off the train it was like arriving in a Goldbourne NSW but in a two dollar shop kind of way. The grand 18th century buildings and wide sweeping boulevards and endless antique and book shops seems to be completely uncomplimentary to the aesthetically unappealing way the locals dress and decorate their shop fronts. And then there's the reminiscent of the soviet era like the statue park and cute little Trabants that hoons around. And perhaps a little bit of that suspicion towards foreigners thing going on. The locals are quite business like with foreigners, in a sort of passive/aggressive kind of way. They don't have much patience for you when you are trying to figure out how express in charades "a hundred grams of cheese to go, please" or "where the blim'n hell's the nearest diary" , but when it comes to drivers stopping right in the middle of the road to give way to pedestrians and bikes they will do so very politely and graciously.

So rather than drawing a full picture of what I think of the place so far I can only give pieces of puzzles, and by far from complete.

The Weird

• Lion statues that don't have tongues
• Walking down a quiet leafy street full of tea towel shops and out of the blue there's a medieval knife shop where the door man wears a full armour smiling a"chya.
• Cigarettes disguised in child friedly bubble gum packaging complete with elephant cartoon. So like most twelve year olds that come across sommink like that, I smoked them.
• Many of the locals have blood shot eyes... The dracula thing??
• Random caves that people set up church in (reminded me a lot of Coober Pedy)
• Some guy at the Electric City internet cafe asked me if I was from "the Cockney people"
• Further random statues
• Soldiers that carry handguns patrolling the street
• The mummified and shriveled right hand of St Stephen (or Szent Istvan) the founder of the Hungarian state from the 11th century displayed in his basilica.

The Wonderful

• Thomas The Tank Engine theme song is played before an announcement on the train
• The Danube and superb views from the many bridges connecting Buda and Pest
  
• Public thermal baths with six different tempretured pools, and built in chess board (though no where near as potent as the Japanese and the Moroccan versions)
• A huge outdoor dance club called Rio in a massive park next to the bridge
• The huge market hall selling all kinds of local produce at half the price elsewhere in Europe. I was feeling generous threw a dinner party for my entire hostel (its more like a large student flat of 17 people with a beat up couch) for under 15 AUD.
• Trabants: the old school cars (well, the ONLY cars) they used to drive back in the communist era. Now its bit of a collectors item as I don't believe they make them anymore. I only saw a group of Trabants on a safari tour in Berlin, but there seems to be quite a few here. So very cute. Toot toot.
• Lush open countryside leading to this cute little village with windy terraces called Szentendre. Good for a poke around if you´re looking for a side trip.
• Glamourous art deco cafes. In fact, I found the cafe in which one of the last scenes in Sunshine was made. How do I know? cos the woman who works there says she was an extra and I believe her.
• Dobos torta, this crazy delicious layered chocolate caramel cake with a wafer on top, served with a short black and a shot of soda water.
  
• The food festival which I will tell you all about, shortly...
  

Wipe that smile off your face

Hi guys,

Sorry to let you know that I am in Munich and have been stuck in a beer garden due to a broken gate, so I don't have much time to write till I am able to get back on the net . Bye for now.

FB.

The Um/Wow Factor

Yep, I'm here. At Mad King Louis Cinderella Castle in Fussen. But its a complete tourist trap taking advantage of a fucked up situation, be warned. I spent about four hours traveling to and from this place (since I'm in the neighbourhood), then another three hours waiting in five separate waiting lines, and then only 30 minutes inside being shown like 4 of the 200 rooms that exists.

I would definitely give it to it as a piece of intriguing art work, and the hike up to the bridge and the hill over looking it being rather fruitful. but I must say its has otherwise a very limited contribution to the general political history or cultural development of Bavaria. He built the castle after him and his family milked the entire population for generations, living in his own sheltered world of royal insanity, and only to die about 200 days after he lived in it. After that no one ever lived in it again, having been looked after by the Americans during WWII and then reclaimed by the state afterwards. and now you pay ten euros to have a half an hour tour of it.

If you need to kill time, go for it, but otherwise just email me and I'll send you a couple of pics.

Berlin Gallery

Rained Out in Berlin

Wir Sind Das Volke!!

Being a tourist in Berlin is particularly meaningful to me because of its fascinating role in modern political history. Berlin has seen some pretty heavy trials and tribulations, and a lot of this only being in the last 100 years. Sch'cuse for a bit of sch'piel but some of this is really interesting if you get into it....

The Ministry of Finance building

Formerly the Nazi Air Force Ministry. It was the the first large Nazi building to be built, and then one of the only ones to survive. It is particularly infamous because of the number of high profile political events happened next to the building. The underground Third Reich head quarters entrance is right next to it, and Colonel Schauffenberg, the man who tried to assassinate Hitler was tortured and executed there in 1943. On June 17 1953, East Germans protesting against Soviet rule and suppression gathered outside the building (then the Soviet´s main Ministry) and in the course of the next few days the Russian military killed over 200 protesters and arrested countless others (many of whom probably died under custody and possibly out in Sachsenhaussen). A large death strip was set up right there next to the Berlin Wall during the Cold War, and countless people attempting to cross it has been shot there. Now accountants work here.

To the left is the monument which now is situated at the book burning square where in May 1933 Hitler Youth burnt a list of 20,000 books which are considered against Nazism and Fascism. A quote written in 1823 by Heinrichy Heine reads : When you start to burn books, you will eventually end up burning people. The installation is extremely powerful in the sense that it is entirely underground with a glass frame looking into an empty shelf that could store up to 20,000 books, right in the middle of the square.
Brandonberg Gate

many notorious armies has marched through these gates, including Napoleon's, the various Kaisers, the Russian Red Army upon liberating Berlin in 1945 (then proceeded to rape approx 100,000 Berlin women - again, an eye for an eye makes the whole ). Then during the Berlin Wall years the wall ran right next to the gate, and countless speeches by various politicians were made in front of the gates as the symbolic flash point between the two sides. Then the wall came down in front of those gates and in front of the world in 1989.

I remember 1989 like no other year. I was in my third year in Primary school but the world around me was going off. Taiwan was going through an absolutely exciting period of democratic reforms, having the first opposition party being set up in 1986 after marshal law imposed by the KMT government had been lifted. Chiang Jing-Kuo, who was Chiang Kai-Shek's son and succeeded him as President (we're talking empire here, of course) died in January that year, and Lee Deng Hui became the first Taiwan born person become president. Central Taipei where we lived was abuzz with democracy fever, free and democratic elections at all levels of government was taking place, even at my own primary school, the children even voted in the raccoon as the animal to represent Taipei. Dad was (and obviously still is) the political junkie type that would take his kids to election rallies and volunteered us to fold propaganda for his fav candidate that set up shop just across the road from our apartment. So there we were, after homework and dinner, at election rallies listening to passionate people talking about their dreams and visions, but also their anger and their hurt. I was young but I felt it running in my blood. In June, across the strait in China an estimated 7000 people were killed during the few weeks of demonstrations. The Taiwanese was obsessed with what was happening over there, cos the same thing could well happen to us, if it was say ten year before under KMT (and did in February 1947) or in thirty years time if we were unlucky enough to be bulldozed over by the CCP. But its not. We were sitting there watching. Bearing witness. It sent shudders down my spine because those students were not much older than I was, and they were doing the same things my parents were just last night -saying what they felt was right. We traveled to Singapore and New Zealand in July, my first overseas trip. Full of fantastic memories of sheep on the hill and feeding black swans in Lake Rotorua. My parents even decided to move there, and of course that changed the rest of our lives. Then on 9 November 1989, the same television screen beamed the pictures of German people, many of them as young as the Tienanmen Square students, in front of those giant gates, jumping across this giant wall and breaking out champagne and dancing all night, crying, laughing, as if they've never done it before. They yelled 'Wir sind das volk! Wir sind das volk! Die mauer muss weg, die mauer muss weg! ' (WE ARE THE PEOPLE!!! WE ARE THE PEOPLE!!! THE WALL MUST COME DOWN!!! THE WALL MUST COME DOWN!!!). The passion in their voices and their joy of experiencing freedom shook the lounge room and the entire family was clapping for them. And here I am again after all these years, this time really standing here!

The Reichtag

The German Parliament is actually called the Bundestag, and only started sitting back in the original Berlin Reichtag in 1999. The Parliament Buildings is still affectionately known as the Reichtag after it was commissioned to be built to house the Second Reicht in 1894 ie. the Kaiserreicht (after Kaiser Wilhem II united Prussia, Bravaria and Saxony into Germany) and they did in fact have democratic elections, women even voted. But after Hitler came on the scene, the building mysteriously caught fire in 1933 and the whole building was abandoned as Hitler sacked the Weimer Republic parliament and began his war against the world. Hitler was completely uninterested in democracy so he in fact NEVER sat foot into the building. The burnt building itself didn't get fixed for many years through out WWII and the early 1960s as the Germans were preoccupied and also underfunded. It was then slowly refurbished and after reunification Sir Norman Foster (who did the giant cucumber in London) won the competition to reconstruct the dome destroyed in 1933. The Reichtag reopened in 1999 and the Bundestag sat in the building again after 66 years. It is now the beautiful building and dome that I climbed earlier this week. It sits right above the debating chamber so that the pollies know that the PEOPLE ARE ALWAYS WATCHING!!

What you may find interesting is that the New Zealand electoral system, ie Mixed Members Proportional, is actually mirrored against the German Bundastag system. In the early 1990s, the NZ gov commissioned a group of experts including my lecturer Professor Richard Mulgan to search the world for a better system to enable New Zealand"s tiny, but fledging democracy which is rapidly changing in terms of party composition and voting behaviour. For example, there were few minor parties gaining significant and fairly legitimate percentages of votes but never able to be represented in parliament due to the first past the post system, which favoured the two major parties, while minorities such as Maori, women, immigrants, and non heterosexuals were not having enough voice in Parliament. The Royal Commission traveled all over the world sampling electoral systems, including considering the Irish, Japanese and Israeli systems of preferential etc before recommending MMP, as its done in Germany to NZ. You can read more about how it works here. Once you get into it, its actually quite an interesting subject. I personally think its a pretty wonderful system where everybody gets a fair chance of being represented rather than an outright majority by the most powerful and resourceful party, whom often are fuckers anyway.

Democracy is not always perfect, and so many people are still perfecting it as we speak. But don't you think that this big beautiful building housing a forum where everybody can supposedly have a place, have a voice, have a share of the sky is a wonderful thing that the German people and ultimately Berlin really really deserve after all these years and the blood and the tears? You go for it, Dem Deutschen Volke!!

Bring Me Berlin

If Amsterdam is the hippy little sister that teaches pilates by day and sells make-up in department stores by night, and Copenhagen is the preppy big brother that goes to Harvard and rides his Vespa to canoe polo on Saturdays, then Berlin must be the schzisophrephic fucked up half brother born to dad´s first girlfriend whom you´ll always find on the corner of the street high on acid and writing poetry with gastly spray paint.

Therefore he is likely the most interesting family member you´ll meet at the dinner party but the least you´d want to end up in bed with at the end of the night. But then again...


Deutchland Nehmen Eins
Germany and I didnt get to a particularly good start. I travelled through Hamberg from Copenhagen and didnt end up staying for very long because the rain seemed to be following me around. In the rain Hamberg was a total mess. The locals looked far less attractive than the Danes Ive just left behind and there seems to be quite a number of Chavs here as well. Being completely soaked on the train from Hamberg, I was having a rather good nap. Some ticket-frauline with a massive batton stuck through her belt poked me with her hand held ticket machine and yells `Oiii, Oiii, farhkart farhkart!!`, it was quite a shock really to be in pain and having this massive woman stare down at me. The scene where Indiana Jones chucking the Nazi Officer out of the zeppelin for not having a ticket from Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade flashes before my eyes and I think enough revenge is done on humiliating the German population so I gave her the ticket and roll back to sleep.

Nudeln Im Kreusberg
My first two nights in Berlin was spent in a huge brick former nunery building now called The Three Little Pigs hostel. It was a fantastic location pretty much down the road from town and Check Point Charlie, the infamous American occupied checkpoint where numerous attempts at the Wall succeeded and failed over the years. Being next to ALDI, Germany´s answer to Pak n Save and CocaCola is pretty groovy. The soy milk did taste slightly like soap though, but for 35cents euro i would drink soap.

Speaking of which, Berlin is a fabulously cheap place for a foodie like myself. You can get a wurst (sausie) for about 80 cents euro, a HUGE plate of chinese noodles for 2.50E, kebabs for 2Es, sushi for 4Es, 700ml beer for 1E and pretty much anything under the sun for half the price compared to, say, London.

I completely pig out on Vietnamese in Kreusberg. The restaurant was full so they stash me on a table with a same-sex couple from Kiel near Hamberg. They have stereotypical lesbian professions, ie. Geisha is a police woman and Kristina is a nurse (well, according to her, its Doktors Helfer)... They were very good natured and gave me heaps of tips on what to do and see etc in Berlin, and a list of music I should check out, as well as some interesting perspectives on German perspectives on life. eg. Dont talk to Turkish men and dont eat weisswurst in Munich, and all about Knut the bear. I in turn give them hot tips on NZ, like, ´Go to Paekakariki´. They gave me a challenge I couldnt refuse: FIND MARLENE DIETRICH´S GRAVE. Fabulous. Cant wait.

I had to do some admin (running around Embassies trying to organise my visas to India and Bangladesh) its a bit of a nightmare, but its been fun poking around some of the places I probably wouldn't have visited otherwise. This is a picture of a huge lush, green and tranquil park in the West of the town centre near Tiergarten. Would you believe that to my right its one of the busiest traffic streets in Berlin, and to my left there is a nudist colony? Guess its quite a big drive to the beach from here...

Arbeit Macht Frei
I visited the former site of the Sachsenhaussen Concentation Camp, about 40 minutes ride from Berlin in Oranienburg. The town itself has not really fully recovered from the years under GDR (East German Gov) and looks quite shabby and eery as you walk through. The camp was built by the Nazis in 1933 as one of the first concentration camps to house their opponents, on political, social and racial grounds. It was treated as a ´model´concentration camp where other new camps would model on its design and concept. The infamous words ´Arbeit Macht Frei´ (Work Makes You Free´ is written on the front gate, and the same words were copied at the gate at the camp Auchwitz a few years later. It is really the most ironic expression I´ve ever com across, because the biggest cause of death of prisoners at this camp was from over working (ie. mostly manufacturing of ammunitions and other weapons). 150,000 people died here altogether, many of them were Jews, but because this is the camp closest to Berlin, and the fact that after about 1942 most Jewish victims were sent to outer camps, many of the Sachsenhaussen victims were high profile political prisoners and POWs, as well as gypsies and gays. After WWII the camp was seized by the Russians and they in turn used it to house their own political prisoners. Ironically the former Nazis were imprisoned there and tortoured the same way, and a further 60,000 people were imprisoned under the Russians. What do I say to this? Án eye for an eye makes the whole world blind´

Walking through the barricks where people were torchered, humiliated and murdered is quite a heavy experience, and it brings back memories of visiting PolPots torcher chamber in Phenom Penh. As a Gen Y in an over informed and desensitised world, you´d think that I would expect to see a gas chamber and a laboratory testing on children in a concentration camp something quite normal and matter-of-fact. But it isn´t. When you walk in the the smell of burnt bodies and the methylated spirits they used come flushing up into your head, even if its not there you completely feel it and you understand human suffering without actually having to suffer it yourself.

The former site of the camp serves as a permanent reminder to future generations of the things that can go very very wrong. Its a compulsory fieldtrip for Berlin school children. Many places I go around Berlin seems to serve this purpose and the locals keep reminding themselves of their dark past. I admire them for that. Confronting the past even if its hard is the best way to heal and move on, and perhaps to prevent from hurting in the future. I learned that.

Der Fluß und die Mauer
On my third day I move to the MOST AMAZING budget accommodation one could get in Berlin. Its on a barge boat anchored on the River Spree between the Oberbaum Bridge and The East Side Gallery, a huge chunk of the Berlin Wall which has not been removed. Graffiti artists take the liberty of updating the coat regularly and its a showcase of the best of Berlin´s street art culture thats been fostered by the existence of the wall, before and after it was taken down. That section of the river acted as the boarder between the East and the West during the Cold War, and the Oberbaum bridge was a checkpoint itself. The towers you see today was actually in ruins and was not rebuilt till after reunification. Now a U-Bahn runs accross it connecting two very punk, artistic and young neighbourhoods on Wachuser Straße and Schleisische Straße that has fantastic food, loads of fun graffiti and hip art galleries.


Captain Edgar is the man behind the empire. He was originally an architect and its his third boathouse and apart from an array of international guests the boat´s main cabin is a floating bar that plays live music every night of the week. Heaps of locals come along for the atmosphere and the views, not just to pick up Swedish backpackers. The boat cat Minka is a total sweety and just loves attention. In the winter when the river freezes over she likes to run across the ice, but there has been once during spring that she has fallen in!! ops. My dorm mate Kristina is actually German for once, and has just got a job with MTV across the road. She´s found Marlene Dietrich´s grave on the German Wikipedia, so looks like I´m gonna have to head out!!

Ich gefunden Marlene!!

yep. On my last afternoon in Berlin the mission is completed. Marlene's grave was situated in the leafy and plush suburb of Schoneburg, near where she was born in. I am not too sure about who owns the graveyard, but the oldest graves were dated in the 1850s. There was a plot for a few deceased from WWI, and also a plot for a number of deceased (including those marked as 'unknown') from around April 1945 when Berlin was taken over by the Allies. It was actually quite fascinating just studying the graveyard itself.

For a great woman, Marlene herself had a small and inconspicuous grave, with the simple words "Here I Stand At The Mark of My Days" on the grave stone. She was the first woman to wear pants on the silver screen and she has kicked more arses than John Howard has licked. She has had a pretty fantastic career and life, including being an outspoken antiNazi activists while living in America during the war. You can read about why she is a feminist icon here. It is true that none of us take anything with us at the end of the day, so why make it a big deal? Hats off to Marlene and for being so gracious in life and in death.

My Berlin Recomms

• Sandeman's Free Tour of Berlin (go on the bike tour, just hope it doesn't rain)
• For Cuba Street, Brunswick Street, and Sesame Street fans go to Kastanienallee in Preuyleuer (young local designers boutiques, great coffee, record shops, organic food, bright colours and hot construction workers)
• For goths and punks go to Warchauser Strase and Schleische Strase, then head to East Side Gallery and a drink at Captain Edgar's bar.
• Schoneberg to check out the Graveyard and purrring BMWs
• Tacheles, the Art part featuring all sorts of fun random sculptures/installations for the forefront of Berlin's alternative art scene, next to some studios. Off Oranienburger strase
• Eat some KurryWurst > ie some normal german brotworst but chopped up and sprinkled with curry powder and deadly german tomatoe sauce. Apparently German POWs tried to recreate American spare ribs when they got home... and got this!!

Rained Out in Hamburg

Let the Sun Shine!!

Pheeeewwww.... finally its stopped raining on my last day here and I was able to enjoy a whole day of wondering around the city. Here are some pics. Canal in Nyhavn Street

Fascinating scene> You'd think when a group of teenagers get together on a day off it would be as noisy as a zoo on a good day. But these guys are completely well behaved and communicating in sign language.

And Mr Walrus comes out to play!!

Free Town of Christiania

Despite the rain and the hang over I pluck myself outside and into the world of Christiania.
http://www.christiania.org/

Christiania is a small commune type village on the reclaimed island of Christianhavn, just off the center of Copenhagen. It started life as an abandoned military building in the early 1970s. The gov was too lazy or otherwise occupied at the time to clean it up in time before it was squatted by hippies, artists,´activists, nutters and the likes. They soon turned it into a bit of a utopia and `independent state´of self governance, alternative lifestyle and free flowing drugs. Built cabins, planted gardens, erected tents, canteens and places for spiritual meditation.

There´s been many threats from the gov to shut the place down but so far it hasn´t completely taken place but the drug scene has toned down quite a bit. They once threatened the residents to move out by 1 April 1976 OR ELSE but it never happened, and since then Christianians have been celebrating April Fools Day as the biggest party of the year. Despite this, the government is still threatening to claim back the land and forcing the villagers to `normalise´. Its verz possible that in five or ten years time Christiania, this space for alternative existence and creativity will be gone. Go to the website every one, bye a ´Bevar Christiania Tshirt.

The locals take visitors on guided tours at 3pms on the weekends, and with the rain I am the only person that turned up.My guide Ami was a small chilled out woman with no hair who speaks like an elf and walks like she´s dancing without the limbs. She takes me through the village to the shared spaces of the 900 residents. There was the great hall where the parties and the community meetings (ie. decision making on stuff like rubbish collection, allocation of public spaces, child care) take place. When we were there there was a soccer game happening. Ami tells me that the European Hacky Sack Championships were held there a few years ago and the locals cleaned out. Then there was the local blacksmith who makes stuff for the locals. A bike store, a gigantic warehouse selling recycled timber and other building materials for local building maintanance. Although the land is being squatted, the locals still build on it, but must leave the building to the community once they leave. There´s also the`Put and Take´gazebo, ie. trash and treasure clothes swap sort of thing. A temple dedicated mostly to Tibetan Buddhism, and igloos made by Greenlanders (who by the way are very interesting looking people that always surprises you on the streets), and of course what´s a hippy village without the vegetarian restaurant by the rolling river?

Its kinda crazy to find a space like this in the middle of plush and aristocratic Copenhagen, but that´s what makes it so rebelliously appealing. The Danish people seem to support this space and stand up for the freedom to be different and a little loopy. I can´t take pictures here unfortunately as the gov may use them to close the place down, but if you go to the òfficial´website there are some stuff there you can see. Highly recommend a visit here.

Bye Bye Monster

Monster. What can I say? A best friend for almost a decade, he was a gift from the person who I still consider the love of my life, and as much as I would like to keep him around, it is time for him to go. And with a bang he went.

Monster was buried at sea by the Little Mermaid on the evening of the 16 June 2007 by myself, with the help of a stoned Italian med student who swam him out for me, and watched by a few other fellow travellers in Copenhagan. A young french friend captured the moment on video and it should be floating around on YouTube by now.

Alas. Lovers and good times come and go, but the Mermaid and the Monster will always be there. Keep her happy my friend, and rest in peace. You legend.

Rained out in Copenhagen

The City

I´d hate to think that the rain is following me, but shikes, this is really quite bad. The Danes tell me that it never rains in Denmark, and then I turn up!! I finally worked out why so manz Scandinavians like to export designer florescent gum boots.

Must say though even if it is pouring down like there´s no tomorrow, Copenhagen still looks like an absolutely amazingly grand and stylish city. The buildings, the people and the fashion all take clean cut lines, minimalist colours based on their seafaring naval colours, big broad roads and spaces and just look so swish without having to try. Danish people are goooorgeous and dress well. Think Princess Mary post wedding. Cute little Danes just bike past in the latest designer gear and even squeeze on a smile for you if you happen to be in their way. Copenhagen has some canals and reclaimed land too, they are much wider and occupied not by small commuter boats but huge luxury yachts that people just live on as boat houses. And the last thing you would find on the streets are holes on the ground, abandoned construction sites, rubble or misplaced rubbish, or a homeless person. But maybe I am just feeling a little bit out of place just cos it all feels so perfect here, if you know what I mean... There´s just nothing wrong, and therefore mysterious about Copenhagen, just, a little bit too nice.

The Side Trip

I did make a compulsory trip out to Odense, the home of Hans Christian Andersen, a good two hours train ride from CPH. Here are pics of his false teeth. He was also known to let out his own blood when he felt ill as a self cure kinda thing. And his museum has a fantastic collection of his papercuts. Odense was a chilled town and less busily than Copenhagen and the train ride took me through the low lands of open farms and lone staning danish farm houses. It is quite similar to Netherlands in some ways, like the country side, but you can tell that they are slightly more grander in the way they build and grow and fester things.

The Parties

Its not my fault that its been raining so much and all I could do with my spare time is sampling good Carlsberg beer and fine Danish cheese. My latest side kicks are two young girls from Iceland. Think Bjork, split her into a blond one and a brunette one, add the Powderpuff Girls, amplify the noise and aggression by ten and reduce the age by twenty five, then you get Ragna and Tartar. Ragna (frizzy brunette) is an au pair for a rich Danish family. She says she´s not a feminist BUT she thinks women shouldn´t wear make up cos it objectifies them but she finds hairy women scary. and Tartar(straight blond) doesn´t have an opinion ever till you mention Kiera Knightly `no no no, she´s not gorgeous, she needs MEAT.´. Anyway so I go through WISC 101 from March to July with them and they teach me about how people inherit their surnames in Iceland.

Skimbleshank`The Railway Cat > The Night Train Anthem

On my seemingly endless railway journey around Europe I have made it a ritual to break into song upon embarking on night trains to the pleasant beat of Andrew Lloyd Webber and TS Elliot´s Skimbleshanks: The Railway Cat , and most suitably this time, cos we are heading towards the most northern part of the northern hemisphere i´ve ever gone to - DENMARK!! Join me ladies and gentleman ---

Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat, the Cat of the Railway Train

There's a whisper down the line at eleven thirty-nine

When the Night Mail's ready to depart

Saying, "Skimble, where is Skimble?Has he gone to hunt the thimble?

We must find him or the train can't start"

All the guards and all the porters

And the station master's daughters

Would be searching high and low

Saying "Skimble where is Skimble for unless he's very nimble

Then the night mail just can't go."

At eleven forty-two with the signal overdue

And the passengers all frantic to a man

That's when I would appear and I'd saunter to the rear

I'd been busy in the luggage van!

Then he gave one flash of his glass-green eyes

And the signal went "All Clear!"

They'd be off at last to the northern part of the Northern Hemisphere!

Skimbleshanks the Railway CatThe Cat of the Railway Train

You might say that by and large it was me who was in charge

Of the Sleeping Car Express

From the driver and the guards to the bagmen playing cards

I would supervise them all more or less

Down the corridor he paces and examines all the faces

Of the travellers in the first and the third

He established control by a regular patrol

And he'd know at once if anything occurred

He would watch you without winking and he saw what you were thinking

And it's certain that he didn't approve

Of hilarity and riot so that folk were very quiet

When Skimble was about and on the move

You could play no pranks with Skimbleshanks!

He's a cat that couldn't be ignored

So nothing went wrong on the Northern Mail

When Skimbleshanks was aboard

It was very pleasant when they'd found their little den

With their name written up on the door

And the berth was very neat with a newly folded sheet

And not a speck of dust upon the floor

There was every sort of light

You could make it dark or bright

And a button you could turn to make a breeze

And a funny little basin you're supposed to wash your face in

And a crank to shut the window should you sneeze

Then the guard looked in politely and would ask you very brightly,

"Do you like your morning tea weak or strong?"

But I was just behind him and was ready to remind him

For Skimble won't let anything go wrong

When they crept into their cosy berth and pulled up the counterpane

They all could reflect that it was very nice

o know that they wouldn't be bothered by mice

They can leave all that to the Railway Cat

In the watches of the night I was always fresh and bright

Every now and then I'd have a cup of tea

With perhaps a drop of scotch while I was keeping on the watch

Only stopping here and there to catch a flea

They were fast asleep at Crewe and so they never knew

That I was walking up and down the station

They were sleeping all the while I was busy at Carlisle

Where I met the station master with elation

They might see me at Dumfries if I summoned the police

If there was anything they ought to know about

When they got to Gallowgate there they did not have to wait

For Skimbleshanks would help them to get out!

nd he gives a wave of his long brown tail

Which says "I'll see you again!

You'll meet without fail on the Midnight Mail

The Cat of the Railway Train!"

Rained Out in Amsterdam

Dr Moreau's Other Island

Today I took a very "interesting" (call me the queen of understatements) bike trip to Texel Island (pronounced Te-ssel) in the North Sea, about one and a half hours train and ferry ride away from Amsterdam. Texel is only 25kms long and 9kms wide, and has a very dynamic geography, ranging from pristine white sand beaches, wetlands, woods, farms and you guessed it, tulip fields. What I in fact discovered was a deep dark secret hidden inside this seemingly carefree retreat for the retired and communing Dutch.

Weird Sheep
Everything was lush, open, flat (great for biking, just check out the parallel bike lanes all over the island), colourful and wholesome till I bumped into this lot here. At first in the distance they looked like pigs, but at closer examination they appeared to be sheep. But they have a body oversized and bloated like a bulldog and donkey legs. What freaked me out was that they don't "BAHH", they "CLICK", like crickets.

Could this be some sort of fucked up scientific experiment being conducted here while the rest of the nation is stoned? I mean, I grew up in New Zealand and live next to Mystery Creek of all places, I HAVE SEEN WEIRD SHEEP BREEDS, but not like this. This is making me extremely suspicious of the businesses which the locals carry on here on a self contained island with controlled ferry terminals.

Over-friendly locals
People wave to me as I bike past, as if I am a long lost friend. Even the ones doing really busy jobs like selling sausages. No body, I mean, no body not even the hippies in Amsterdam says hello to me. I believe they are all part of Dr Moreau's secret army, trying to make me let my guard down. Never underestimate Country Bumpkins.

The Secret Launch Pad
I FOUND IT! This is so it. Dr Moreau type character most likely launches secret submarines and spy ships from this unnaturally looking pier sticking out of the sand. Its covered by seagull shit and seaweed as a disguise. When no one's watching the beach most likely splits into two and his big vehicles will come rolling out. The rubbish truck over in the left transforms into satellite detectors by night. Just look at the dodgy way the rubbish man wears his bandanna. Bet hes not even bald. These changing rooms here? That's actually breathing holes for his secret planet.Dodgy Gnome Collection
Wow how cute are these? NOT!
Honestly I tell you, the owner of this garden goes around stealing gnomes from backpacker hostels all over Europe just to put them in his garden. Then it makes perfect sanctuary for the REAL gnomes posing as plastic gnomes hiding there during the day. I know cos one of them made a funny face at me while I wasnt' looking. Its that sleezy one in the right corner. If you look closely his eyes actually follow you then he reports all your activities to Dr Moreau. Don't trust any body, even if they sit in the garden just looking cute.

Random Mounds In The Wheatfield
Easy, Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) hidden in hay.

And to distract myself from my worries, again
Despite being completely freaked out by the going-ons on this crazy as island, I still had a fantastic time biking around checking out the strangely charming country side and enjoyed some good local cuisine. Eg. some Dutch Almond Torte and then a bloody AMAZING salted herrings next to the fishing village. They salt it while out at sea then the fish mongrels skin them and serve it raw with fresh onions and pickles. Yumcious Dumpcious. Just don't try pash anyone. Its the current "in-food" apparently, going through some backlash against fast food and return to tradition and culturally significant staples I hear.

I AM THE HERO but THE REAL CHAMPION IS YOU
Yep, dobbing these guys in to the Terrorism Hotline when I get home, leave it to the experts I think is the best strategy. I personally can't see myself merging from those ripples in a bright orange bikini strapped with machine guns for example. I hope they confiscate all that salted and pickled herrings and give it to me as a reward. Save the free world and our way of life as we know it and get a feed as well. Bonus!!