In other words my flight was cancelled. Not anything to do with the weather here of course, just that the people in Gatwick have given up caring and stopped shovelling snow or something. From what I can gather from t'facebook, the UK appears to either have been taken by surprise by extra snow or too darn lazy to do anything about it, which has somewhat inconvenienced people. I am not all that bothered about th flight cancellation really, I mean it is sad that I will have to wait to see everyone, but there really isn't much point getting annoyed when the runway you were supposed to land on isn't even open and you wouldn't be able to be picked up in any case...
Well, it has snowed here now, though less than 6 inches in total I think. But still, everywhere is remarkably pretty.Vienna is well prepared for the snow, so there is much less of a festival atmosphere (you know, everyone rushing put to build a giant snow phallus in the 4 hours before the tube starts running again, etc). There are in fact no snow constructions of any description, but part of that is that because the temperature has stayed below zero since it fell, the snow is a powder rather than partially melted, so you can't squish it into snowballs. I took a stroll around during the snowstorm on Saturday, and the Heldenplatz did look very nice completely white. Christmas markets look nicer too, they seem a lot less tacky when everyone is standing in the bona fide snow and the little huts are covered in it. Although the market areas do develop this brown mud paste which is like the mother of all slushes. Mostly, you get the classic Vienna old couple out for a stroll, there will always be at least one fur coat between the pair and both will always be properly attired in a hat.
So, I don't know what I'll do tomorrow but I hope it's fun. I am currently reading the Moomin book I got for my birthday. It is every bit as good as I expected, though it does make me want to go run away and live on an island with a family of friendly troll creatures, which is not an easy career path to get onto... For music I have downloaded some Jeffrey Lewis, so I can laugh and smile inrecognition at his well worded, cute guitar songs about crushing insecurity and or punk and or hippies. He is great.
Merry nearly christmas!
Monday, 21 December 2009
Wednesday, 16 December 2009
Birthday etc
My birthday snuck up on me, as it does every year. I never pay much attention to it until one day everyone starts wishing me a happy birthday and there are cards in the mailbox. So, now I can legally drink in the states and buy spirits in Finland! That is about all the difference in me from last week I am afraid.
This year my birthday was the day after I had got back from Prague so I was pretty tired and was planning on sleeping the whole day, but then my buddy texted and asked would I like to go climbing. I decided it might be an idea to do something I enjoy on my birthday, and I am glad that I went because for some reason I was much better than I had been the previous two wednesdays. I am reluctant to attribute this to the development of some previously unknown character facet at age 21, more likely it is because after two weeks of practice I have started to remember how to climb again.
Afterwards Mirva came round, I cooked delicious Risotto (all my food LOOKS ugly but is in fact delicious, like a superhero with an alter ego. Only it is a food) and she made this delicious cake thing that wasn't really a cake because you don't have to cook it. It had a biscuit base but it wasn't a cheesecake either as the topping was made of whisked egg and cream and chocolate. Whatever, the foamcake (TM) was very tasty, even if it didn't set until the next day so we first ate it as a kind of chunky milkshake... Mirva bought me a moomin book for my birthday, following a conversation about how much we both liked the books (or in my case the one I have read). Apparently the author was Finnish and she lived alone on a tiny island off the coast of Finland. Cool.
On friday I went to a free concert at Mirva's school, they have them quite often so the students can actually perform stuff to people rather than just practice. It was great because you got a wide variety of composers, levels of difficulty and degrees of obscurity (as well as a variety of levels of piano skill). I think I might try and visit these evenings semi regularly, as they are a pretty good way of getting to know what I think is good. My buddy Ruth joined us for that, then we went off to the super cheap sushi restaurant for, well, you guess what for.
By the time we arrived and ordered our group had grown to include our new Iranian friends, their ex-german teacher Anna Lena (who has two first names), and Anna Lena's friend who was the brother of the guy who was her guide on a university trip to Benin and Togo. We spoke a lot of german, which was cool, and discussed the Voodoo/ Vodun/ whatever religion, because Anna Lena is studying religion and anthropology or something else cool and unusual. It turned out that Eric (i think that was his name?) was also a hereditary tribal prince, so that was also pretty cool. He doesn't get anything for it, but people would apparently respect him more than the average man if he were at home. After sushi we went to a bar in a shady looking aea behind the Westbahnhof where you can pay however much you want for a beer! Damned communists/lefty students! Actually the atmosphere was really nice, just like a house party really, not dangerous feeling at all. I would go there very often if not for the suffocating pall of smoke. Ruth however pronounced that she did not like the place because it was so 'abgefuckt', which is a 'german' word which means pretty much what you think it means. Awesome.
Got home very late/early, lazed around some, wrote about rocks, then went out to a bar to 'celebrate my birthday'. Of course I would have preferred to just go out to a bar without the raised expectations such a grandiose title brings with it, but we had a pleasant time in this strange incredibly trendy looking (in a 1960s decoration way) bar. In london you would pay a premium for the 'arty' atmosphere, but I don't think the pressure to be in the cool arty set is so great here (or perhaps anywhere outside of Shoreditch?), so it was just normal (thus still expensive) prices.
Mostly the rest of the time I have been fiddling with my mapping report and or drinking tea, apart from yesterday evening when we did a bit more christmas marketing. I am still puzzled by christmas markets, they seem like a great idea until you realise that the spirit of christmas isn't small wooden carved animals, hanging mobiles and incense shops. At least the gluhwein is good.
It snowed here for a while today, but the internet tells me it did that everywhere else as well. A scattering has settled, so maybe lots will fall tonight, but I am not optimistic. besides, tomorrow I have to go to 6 hours of lectures and I'd rather not be in them missing snow drifts.
Der Tom
This year my birthday was the day after I had got back from Prague so I was pretty tired and was planning on sleeping the whole day, but then my buddy texted and asked would I like to go climbing. I decided it might be an idea to do something I enjoy on my birthday, and I am glad that I went because for some reason I was much better than I had been the previous two wednesdays. I am reluctant to attribute this to the development of some previously unknown character facet at age 21, more likely it is because after two weeks of practice I have started to remember how to climb again.
Afterwards Mirva came round, I cooked delicious Risotto (all my food LOOKS ugly but is in fact delicious, like a superhero with an alter ego. Only it is a food) and she made this delicious cake thing that wasn't really a cake because you don't have to cook it. It had a biscuit base but it wasn't a cheesecake either as the topping was made of whisked egg and cream and chocolate. Whatever, the foamcake (TM) was very tasty, even if it didn't set until the next day so we first ate it as a kind of chunky milkshake... Mirva bought me a moomin book for my birthday, following a conversation about how much we both liked the books (or in my case the one I have read). Apparently the author was Finnish and she lived alone on a tiny island off the coast of Finland. Cool.
On friday I went to a free concert at Mirva's school, they have them quite often so the students can actually perform stuff to people rather than just practice. It was great because you got a wide variety of composers, levels of difficulty and degrees of obscurity (as well as a variety of levels of piano skill). I think I might try and visit these evenings semi regularly, as they are a pretty good way of getting to know what I think is good. My buddy Ruth joined us for that, then we went off to the super cheap sushi restaurant for, well, you guess what for.
By the time we arrived and ordered our group had grown to include our new Iranian friends, their ex-german teacher Anna Lena (who has two first names), and Anna Lena's friend who was the brother of the guy who was her guide on a university trip to Benin and Togo. We spoke a lot of german, which was cool, and discussed the Voodoo/ Vodun/ whatever religion, because Anna Lena is studying religion and anthropology or something else cool and unusual. It turned out that Eric (i think that was his name?) was also a hereditary tribal prince, so that was also pretty cool. He doesn't get anything for it, but people would apparently respect him more than the average man if he were at home. After sushi we went to a bar in a shady looking aea behind the Westbahnhof where you can pay however much you want for a beer! Damned communists/lefty students! Actually the atmosphere was really nice, just like a house party really, not dangerous feeling at all. I would go there very often if not for the suffocating pall of smoke. Ruth however pronounced that she did not like the place because it was so 'abgefuckt', which is a 'german' word which means pretty much what you think it means. Awesome.
Got home very late/early, lazed around some, wrote about rocks, then went out to a bar to 'celebrate my birthday'. Of course I would have preferred to just go out to a bar without the raised expectations such a grandiose title brings with it, but we had a pleasant time in this strange incredibly trendy looking (in a 1960s decoration way) bar. In london you would pay a premium for the 'arty' atmosphere, but I don't think the pressure to be in the cool arty set is so great here (or perhaps anywhere outside of Shoreditch?), so it was just normal (thus still expensive) prices.
Mostly the rest of the time I have been fiddling with my mapping report and or drinking tea, apart from yesterday evening when we did a bit more christmas marketing. I am still puzzled by christmas markets, they seem like a great idea until you realise that the spirit of christmas isn't small wooden carved animals, hanging mobiles and incense shops. At least the gluhwein is good.
It snowed here for a while today, but the internet tells me it did that everywhere else as well. A scattering has settled, so maybe lots will fall tonight, but I am not optimistic. besides, tomorrow I have to go to 6 hours of lectures and I'd rather not be in them missing snow drifts.
Der Tom
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Praha/Prague
So last almost weekend (Sunday to Tuesday, thanks to the immaculate conception for giving me an extra day off!) I am to Prague went, as german grammar would have it. We travelled by bus, not my preferred means of transport, but unfortunately the only real choice in terms of last minute cheapness. The journey was only four and a bit hours long, so a long way off the longest time I've ever had to spend on a coach, and we even got free mineral water. Luxury. Any foolish ideas I might have had of watching the Austrian and Czech countryside roll past were however scuppered by an impressively impenetrable wall of mist that hung in the air, reducing visibility to about 30 metres for most of the journey, then giving way to a dull drizzle. True holiday weather!
On arrival, tiredness and the non-correspondance of the Prague roads to the hand drawn map in our possession led to some brief lostness, but eventually we reached our goal, the delightful Hostel Elf. The hostel was really great, an example of a place where a friendly and reasonable attitude leads to amazing results which make you wonder why things aren't always so. Cheap rooms, free tea and coffee in two huge urns at all times, art all over the walls both in and outside, permanently staffed reception and no curfew, sufficiently abundant shower and toilet facilities and a free breakfast of cornflakes and doughnuts. (OK the last one isn't that great, but it was more free breakfast than anywhere else would have given us). Although not situated in the exact centre of Prague, it is a mere 10 minute tram or bus ride away. Plus did I mention it was cheap?
The hostel also gives a 15% discount at a local restaurant. While the decor (random alligator model, african folk art, driftwood, shark teeth) and music (an english language 80s and 90s hits station) were confusing and clearly geared at the lazy english tourist (as, IMO, was the choice of Heinz tomato ketchup in the condiment stands), the food was very good. A meal wasn't that much cheaper than in Austria, but the price per gram of food certainly was. I ordered duck, dumplings and red cabbage, and I was absolutely stuffed without getting through much more than half. Potato dumplings will keep you going pretty well in the cold Prague winter I think. Combined with the unecessarily alcoholic (12%!!) beer, we were pretty much knocked out and had to go for a major siesta.
So it was that my first proper tourist experience of Prague was of the city at night. The hostel was situated right next to one of the numerous hills that exist in the city, Vitkov Hill, which we promptly climbed. Thank goodness, they don't lock parks like we do in the UK. On top of the hill there is a HUGE statue of an old Czech King on horseback looking ready to trample all comers. Behind him is the massive cuboid of the Czech National Museum/ memorial thing. Mirva climbed on top of a Russian tank we found, which made me all British and uncomfortable... ('you're on the tank! what if somebody sees!'). It's funny how British one gets when one is not in good old blighty, what. Of course the main attraction apart from the towering monarch and almost empty plaza in front, was the spectacle of Prague at night. Every one of the numerous fairytale church spires lit up, the huge castle on the opposing hill glowing alost green in the lights, the retr0-futuristic TV tower, the ring of other hills off on all sides, some spotted with the regimented lights of the most soviet flats I've seen for a while. Very nice. I had not really realised how big the city was. It definitely feels bigger than Vienna, but how much is due to the greater visibility afforded by so many hills, I'm not quite sure.
We then wandered in the rain down to the main square of Prague, overlooked by the instantly recognisable spire of the Tyn church/cathedral. There was a christmas market (of course) and a ridiculously over the top christmas tree which was almost blinding. Sufficiently dampened, we returned home via tram.
The next day we tried to meet up with one of the hundreds of free tours advertised around the hostel, to no avail as we reached the meeting point only 2 minutes after the scheduled start time and they had already disappeared. It would have been good to get a bit of the history of the place, but wandering around did at least have the benefit of freedom. We detoured through the old Jewish Quarter (where the Jewish Cemetery has become a cynically rather overpriced tourist attraction) to the river for a river cruise. Prague has a proper river through the middle of it, rather than ignoring it and leaving it off to one side as has happened in Vienna, and it provides a nice way to admire the buildings of the centre. Luckily on the Monday we had bright, warming sunshine all day long, the winter kind that doesn't make you overheat and lights up everything in a completely different way to summer sunlight. This gave Prague a chance to show off its better points, all the architecture sitting around calmly showing off, the medieval bulk of the Charles Bridge with its enigmatic statues and the ever present hills standing hazily off in the distance.
I am a huge fan of all the hills in prague, as has already become clear I think. One of my favourite things to do in a new city is to climb tall things and look at other things from the top of them. To this end we then climbed the steep scarp from the river up to where a large orange constantly ticking metronome sculpture commemorates the end of communism. We then made our way along the top of the hill past an impressive pavilion and several 1920s mansions to reach the castle. The castle is the largest medieval castle in Europe, although much of the original structure is now overgrown by things from later, grander periods when there was less worry about invasions. There is a MASSIVE cathedral inside the castle grounds, which weirdly reminded me of the cthedrals at home due to its very austere interior appearance and hordes of tourists. There were some astounding highlights though, like the silvery reliquiary/ tomb of St Nepomuk and a 14th century entrance hall type thing with slabs of precious things stuck on the walls and the best and most atmospheric studded wooden doors I have ever seen. The outside of the cathedral had some pretty impressive mosaic work too.
There wasn't much time to see all the other things in the castle, as was the theme for the whole trip. It is very hard to resist the urge to 'tick Prague off the list' and just slow down and enjoy a manageable amount of things. One thing we briefly browsed was the museum, which gave some much needed background on the history of the place. We also met up with a friend of Mirva's via a Finnish man who was also in Prague, Mark (Marc?) the french architect. He was an excellent guide, what with having learnt about all the architcture of the city and all. He took us across the city centre to another castle, this one looking a lot more businesslike, and then to another Czech restaurant. We were plied with EVEN MORE FOOD than I had previously though possible, I had the beef with dried plums and a side of garlic toast. Ate WAY too much garlic. It was definitely good to have some proper dark Budweiser though, why on earth do they not sell it anywhere else?? Look at the pic below, that is food for a mere 3 people!!
We rounded the day off with a long walk up the banks of the river, a stroll across the Charles Bridge, more beer and then home. The statues on the Charles Bridge really are impressive, the sheer level of angst and anguish and pathos and stuff those sculptors could fit on peoples faces was very impressive. My favourite was probably the sinister one I think commemorating the plague, with three snivelling wretches hidden in a dark recess that I had to illuminate with my camera flash. Boo!
We awoke to a very damp morning. Undeterred by the weather we checked out and after some brief second hand shoppingrocked up in the main square. We had a lot of fun checking out the immeasurably cheaper christmas market, and tried some very delicious mead. We finally caught the show of the 14th century astronomical clock, featuring death ringing a bell as the faces of saints scroll past an open window. Deliciously macabre. Also went inside the Tyn church, which contains many many beautifully restored black and gold baroque altars, and climbed the tower of the town hall. The centre of the upper part of the tower is now hollowed out, and featured a really cool tube lift that I took a photo of.
It was nice to have one more view of the rooftops of Prague and gaze down at the impressive patterned streets, and to get out of the rain. After descending we consumed yet more warming mulled wine and mead, and ate some of my new favourite fast food, the deep fried pizza dough garlic cheese piece of genius that is the Langos, as well as purchasing some bottled mead and one of those Hungarian cylinder breads I don't know the name of.
Our final port of call, tourism wise, was the communism museum. This is a small but very well laid out museum, situated above Macdonalds and next to a casino... Inside I learned a lot more about the 20th century history of Czechslovakia/ the Czech republic, plus looked at some very cool memorabilia from those strange times. It is always hard to comprehend the changes that happened so relatively recently to the map of Europe. It was then to=ime to get on the bus for a cramped and warm 4 and a half hour journey back to Vienna, woo! All in all a very good trip.
So, Prague. I was really struck by the stereotypes about what it was going to be like that had snuck into my subconscious from living in the UK through all this EU expansion. I thought somehow it would be shabby, dangerous, cold, unfriendly, and generally lacking things that other european capitals like London or Paris have. But what it really is is just another great European capital. Not to say it doesn't have its own unique feel from its history and situation, far from it, I loved the way it looked, even if I have no real idea of the way a normal Pragueian behaves. I was just surprised at how surprised I was about the fact that Prague was a modern city that I would quite certainly live in without any problem at all. (I have decided this is probably the only way to really visit a place properly , unfortunately a rather time intensive requirement.) Our french guide Marc, also an erasmus student, echoed my thoughts. He too was pretty ashamed of the stereotype he had started off with. Basically, where I am going with this is that the distance between London and Marseille and London and Prague are identical give or take 30km (seriously, look it up!), and I find it fascinating what a difference there is between how we see both places/countries.
Der Tom
On arrival, tiredness and the non-correspondance of the Prague roads to the hand drawn map in our possession led to some brief lostness, but eventually we reached our goal, the delightful Hostel Elf. The hostel was really great, an example of a place where a friendly and reasonable attitude leads to amazing results which make you wonder why things aren't always so. Cheap rooms, free tea and coffee in two huge urns at all times, art all over the walls both in and outside, permanently staffed reception and no curfew, sufficiently abundant shower and toilet facilities and a free breakfast of cornflakes and doughnuts. (OK the last one isn't that great, but it was more free breakfast than anywhere else would have given us). Although not situated in the exact centre of Prague, it is a mere 10 minute tram or bus ride away. Plus did I mention it was cheap?
The hostel also gives a 15% discount at a local restaurant. While the decor (random alligator model, african folk art, driftwood, shark teeth) and music (an english language 80s and 90s hits station) were confusing and clearly geared at the lazy english tourist (as, IMO, was the choice of Heinz tomato ketchup in the condiment stands), the food was very good. A meal wasn't that much cheaper than in Austria, but the price per gram of food certainly was. I ordered duck, dumplings and red cabbage, and I was absolutely stuffed without getting through much more than half. Potato dumplings will keep you going pretty well in the cold Prague winter I think. Combined with the unecessarily alcoholic (12%!!) beer, we were pretty much knocked out and had to go for a major siesta.
So it was that my first proper tourist experience of Prague was of the city at night. The hostel was situated right next to one of the numerous hills that exist in the city, Vitkov Hill, which we promptly climbed. Thank goodness, they don't lock parks like we do in the UK. On top of the hill there is a HUGE statue of an old Czech King on horseback looking ready to trample all comers. Behind him is the massive cuboid of the Czech National Museum/ memorial thing. Mirva climbed on top of a Russian tank we found, which made me all British and uncomfortable... ('you're on the tank! what if somebody sees!'). It's funny how British one gets when one is not in good old blighty, what. Of course the main attraction apart from the towering monarch and almost empty plaza in front, was the spectacle of Prague at night. Every one of the numerous fairytale church spires lit up, the huge castle on the opposing hill glowing alost green in the lights, the retr0-futuristic TV tower, the ring of other hills off on all sides, some spotted with the regimented lights of the most soviet flats I've seen for a while. Very nice. I had not really realised how big the city was. It definitely feels bigger than Vienna, but how much is due to the greater visibility afforded by so many hills, I'm not quite sure.
We then wandered in the rain down to the main square of Prague, overlooked by the instantly recognisable spire of the Tyn church/cathedral. There was a christmas market (of course) and a ridiculously over the top christmas tree which was almost blinding. Sufficiently dampened, we returned home via tram.
The next day we tried to meet up with one of the hundreds of free tours advertised around the hostel, to no avail as we reached the meeting point only 2 minutes after the scheduled start time and they had already disappeared. It would have been good to get a bit of the history of the place, but wandering around did at least have the benefit of freedom. We detoured through the old Jewish Quarter (where the Jewish Cemetery has become a cynically rather overpriced tourist attraction) to the river for a river cruise. Prague has a proper river through the middle of it, rather than ignoring it and leaving it off to one side as has happened in Vienna, and it provides a nice way to admire the buildings of the centre. Luckily on the Monday we had bright, warming sunshine all day long, the winter kind that doesn't make you overheat and lights up everything in a completely different way to summer sunlight. This gave Prague a chance to show off its better points, all the architecture sitting around calmly showing off, the medieval bulk of the Charles Bridge with its enigmatic statues and the ever present hills standing hazily off in the distance.
I am a huge fan of all the hills in prague, as has already become clear I think. One of my favourite things to do in a new city is to climb tall things and look at other things from the top of them. To this end we then climbed the steep scarp from the river up to where a large orange constantly ticking metronome sculpture commemorates the end of communism. We then made our way along the top of the hill past an impressive pavilion and several 1920s mansions to reach the castle. The castle is the largest medieval castle in Europe, although much of the original structure is now overgrown by things from later, grander periods when there was less worry about invasions. There is a MASSIVE cathedral inside the castle grounds, which weirdly reminded me of the cthedrals at home due to its very austere interior appearance and hordes of tourists. There were some astounding highlights though, like the silvery reliquiary/ tomb of St Nepomuk and a 14th century entrance hall type thing with slabs of precious things stuck on the walls and the best and most atmospheric studded wooden doors I have ever seen. The outside of the cathedral had some pretty impressive mosaic work too.
There wasn't much time to see all the other things in the castle, as was the theme for the whole trip. It is very hard to resist the urge to 'tick Prague off the list' and just slow down and enjoy a manageable amount of things. One thing we briefly browsed was the museum, which gave some much needed background on the history of the place. We also met up with a friend of Mirva's via a Finnish man who was also in Prague, Mark (Marc?) the french architect. He was an excellent guide, what with having learnt about all the architcture of the city and all. He took us across the city centre to another castle, this one looking a lot more businesslike, and then to another Czech restaurant. We were plied with EVEN MORE FOOD than I had previously though possible, I had the beef with dried plums and a side of garlic toast. Ate WAY too much garlic. It was definitely good to have some proper dark Budweiser though, why on earth do they not sell it anywhere else?? Look at the pic below, that is food for a mere 3 people!!
We rounded the day off with a long walk up the banks of the river, a stroll across the Charles Bridge, more beer and then home. The statues on the Charles Bridge really are impressive, the sheer level of angst and anguish and pathos and stuff those sculptors could fit on peoples faces was very impressive. My favourite was probably the sinister one I think commemorating the plague, with three snivelling wretches hidden in a dark recess that I had to illuminate with my camera flash. Boo!
We awoke to a very damp morning. Undeterred by the weather we checked out and after some brief second hand shoppingrocked up in the main square. We had a lot of fun checking out the immeasurably cheaper christmas market, and tried some very delicious mead. We finally caught the show of the 14th century astronomical clock, featuring death ringing a bell as the faces of saints scroll past an open window. Deliciously macabre. Also went inside the Tyn church, which contains many many beautifully restored black and gold baroque altars, and climbed the tower of the town hall. The centre of the upper part of the tower is now hollowed out, and featured a really cool tube lift that I took a photo of.
It was nice to have one more view of the rooftops of Prague and gaze down at the impressive patterned streets, and to get out of the rain. After descending we consumed yet more warming mulled wine and mead, and ate some of my new favourite fast food, the deep fried pizza dough garlic cheese piece of genius that is the Langos, as well as purchasing some bottled mead and one of those Hungarian cylinder breads I don't know the name of.
Our final port of call, tourism wise, was the communism museum. This is a small but very well laid out museum, situated above Macdonalds and next to a casino... Inside I learned a lot more about the 20th century history of Czechslovakia/ the Czech republic, plus looked at some very cool memorabilia from those strange times. It is always hard to comprehend the changes that happened so relatively recently to the map of Europe. It was then to=ime to get on the bus for a cramped and warm 4 and a half hour journey back to Vienna, woo! All in all a very good trip.So, Prague. I was really struck by the stereotypes about what it was going to be like that had snuck into my subconscious from living in the UK through all this EU expansion. I thought somehow it would be shabby, dangerous, cold, unfriendly, and generally lacking things that other european capitals like London or Paris have. But what it really is is just another great European capital. Not to say it doesn't have its own unique feel from its history and situation, far from it, I loved the way it looked, even if I have no real idea of the way a normal Pragueian behaves. I was just surprised at how surprised I was about the fact that Prague was a modern city that I would quite certainly live in without any problem at all. (I have decided this is probably the only way to really visit a place properly , unfortunately a rather time intensive requirement.) Our french guide Marc, also an erasmus student, echoed my thoughts. He too was pretty ashamed of the stereotype he had started off with. Basically, where I am going with this is that the distance between London and Marseille and London and Prague are identical give or take 30km (seriously, look it up!), and I find it fascinating what a difference there is between how we see both places/countries.
Der Tom
Saturday, 5 December 2009
Der erste und einzige Geologe auf dem Mond and other stories
Actually did some things this week! Apart from the normal homeostasis actions that is.
Last weekend I spent hugely increasing my knowledge of lake district geology, a highly enjoyable pastime. I have no idea why I always put of doing research and reading papers, because once I start I always get really dragged in, some of my favourite work has ended up being stuff I had to read papaers for, notably my essay on giant dinosaurs last year. I will NEVER get over that I HAD to write an essay on giant dinosaurs! Fantastic.
I was repeatedly told before I came here that I had to watch the classic 1949 film 'The Third Man', an old fashioned adventure thriller set in Vienna. Even more predictably, I did not watch it. But now I am sort of glad that I didn't, because watching it with a more than passing familiarity with the landmarks and streets in the film made it much more worthwile. The basic plot is that western (the genre) author Holly Martins travels to postwar, divided Vienna to take up an offer of a job from old friend Harry Lime. It is not a big spoiler (as it happens about 2 minutes into the film) to tell you that when he arrives, Harry is dead. Holly spends the rest of the film trying to find out if it was really 'just an accident', tangling with the black market, the police, Harry's girlfriend, a man with a tiny dog, a parrot, and the sewers of Vienna, all to a cool and instantly recognisable zither soundtrack.
I really enjoyed the film just from a film perspective, never mind the setting. It was just enjoyable. The jokes were funny (though the lines were sometimes corny, what can you do), the mystery was engaging, the twists were well executed, the lines well delivered, and the cinematography and soundtrack created a brilliant atmosphere. I loved the ending too, for anyone who has seen it, I thought it was just right.
But the setting is a very important part of the film. Crucially, it is a big part but it stays in the background. The film is never trying to point out how cool or european or whatever it is being by being set in Vienna. Because it is never particularly overt, what comes across it that someone just really loved Vienna and wanted to show it off. Actually, I think it might seem to someone that hadn't been here that they WERE showing off, what with the ridiculous in your face architecture and interior decoration, but if there is one lesson you should have already learned from this blog, it is that Vienna really does just casually throw stuff like that at you, seemingly without expecting even a raised eyebrow because hey, everywhere looks like this, right?
One of the most interesting things was seeing postwar Vienna with the rubble still in the streets. Seeing such a familiar place with these piles of rubble in them was unusual, and allows you to look at new buildings and imagine the rubble they replaced. It is funny, but I've never seen many pictures of post blitz london. Perhaps the ones I have seen do not have any recognisable landmarks in so I have trouble relating with them? A lot more of London has changed I think, and not just from bombing.
The very next day I changed tack and after a brief climbing session hurried to the Festsaal of the Austrian Academy of Sciences to watch a talk on lunar geology by the last man on the moon, Dr Harrison Schmitt. Of course, the major draw wasn't lunar geology itself, but a man that had actually poked that lunar geology with a sampling tool. As a geologist Dr Schmitt was in a unique position to apply the instincts of an experienced fieldworker on the moon. Apollo 17 was the las tApollo mission, and by then NASA had really developed some quite impressive kit. Everyone knows about Apollo 11, but who knows about Apollo 17 where the guys spent three days driving around the moon, travelling several miles and revolutionising scientific understanding of an area?
The talk itself was quite interesting as Dr Schmitt has a different opinion on lunar formation to the established view. It was nice to hear different opinions, as the fact is very far from being settled, although I have not read his work to know how justified he is of course. Being an american from the era of Apollo space science and the optimistic expectation that humans would soon conquer the solar system with other big projects, he is keen that we get back to the moon to mine its Helium 3, and ideal, 100% clean fuel for fusion reactors. Overall, this man came across as someone who had a real understanding of science, who while he may have seemed dogmatic and set in his ideas, would actually gladly change them if anyone could actually prove he was wrong. I do not think all famous scientists think like that.
Seeing someone who has actually stood on the moon is a very very odd feeling. It is hard to comprehend how far away this person has been, and how impressive it is thatthey then came back. Harisson Schmitt must be over 60 now, which is another shock. to all intents and purposes, we have moved backwards. We can no longer put a man on the moon in a semi routine way. We have lost the expertise, but more importantly the drive. Dr Schmitt made the important point that Apollo worked for several reasons. First, it had enough money (the man in charge of getting the money asked engineers for their estimates, averaged the figure then doubled it, and he was right on the money), second, it had youth on its side. In the words of Dr Schmitt (quoting the head of NASA or the Apollo programme or both, I forget) they 'didn't know how to fail'. The average age of the people in the control room was 26, and the average age of the 40,000 engineers directly working for NASA was similar. Furthermore, people were given the room to play around with their ideas, rather than being rigidly forced to fulfil a certain target. Nowadays, google uses the same sort of methods, and look where they have got to...
There is always the argument that we should spend out money on earth first. As a science fiction fan it is obvious where I stand, I believe that the inspirational value of the moon landings, as well as their position as an important step towards a final goal of relieving the planet of our crushing presence and not to mention the unforseeable technological and purely scientific gains, are worth the just under 100 billion 2009 US Dollars it cost to put Apollo 11 astronauts on the moon. ( I don't know how much the subsequent program cost). But even if you think we should be banding together to tackle something else, like HIV or malaria or water cleanliness or climate change, I think we still need to look at what made the Apollo programme such a success, and how we can emulate or improve on its methods in the modern world.
I'm going to Prague tomorrow!
Last weekend I spent hugely increasing my knowledge of lake district geology, a highly enjoyable pastime. I have no idea why I always put of doing research and reading papers, because once I start I always get really dragged in, some of my favourite work has ended up being stuff I had to read papaers for, notably my essay on giant dinosaurs last year. I will NEVER get over that I HAD to write an essay on giant dinosaurs! Fantastic.
I was repeatedly told before I came here that I had to watch the classic 1949 film 'The Third Man', an old fashioned adventure thriller set in Vienna. Even more predictably, I did not watch it. But now I am sort of glad that I didn't, because watching it with a more than passing familiarity with the landmarks and streets in the film made it much more worthwile. The basic plot is that western (the genre) author Holly Martins travels to postwar, divided Vienna to take up an offer of a job from old friend Harry Lime. It is not a big spoiler (as it happens about 2 minutes into the film) to tell you that when he arrives, Harry is dead. Holly spends the rest of the film trying to find out if it was really 'just an accident', tangling with the black market, the police, Harry's girlfriend, a man with a tiny dog, a parrot, and the sewers of Vienna, all to a cool and instantly recognisable zither soundtrack.
I really enjoyed the film just from a film perspective, never mind the setting. It was just enjoyable. The jokes were funny (though the lines were sometimes corny, what can you do), the mystery was engaging, the twists were well executed, the lines well delivered, and the cinematography and soundtrack created a brilliant atmosphere. I loved the ending too, for anyone who has seen it, I thought it was just right.
But the setting is a very important part of the film. Crucially, it is a big part but it stays in the background. The film is never trying to point out how cool or european or whatever it is being by being set in Vienna. Because it is never particularly overt, what comes across it that someone just really loved Vienna and wanted to show it off. Actually, I think it might seem to someone that hadn't been here that they WERE showing off, what with the ridiculous in your face architecture and interior decoration, but if there is one lesson you should have already learned from this blog, it is that Vienna really does just casually throw stuff like that at you, seemingly without expecting even a raised eyebrow because hey, everywhere looks like this, right?
One of the most interesting things was seeing postwar Vienna with the rubble still in the streets. Seeing such a familiar place with these piles of rubble in them was unusual, and allows you to look at new buildings and imagine the rubble they replaced. It is funny, but I've never seen many pictures of post blitz london. Perhaps the ones I have seen do not have any recognisable landmarks in so I have trouble relating with them? A lot more of London has changed I think, and not just from bombing.
The very next day I changed tack and after a brief climbing session hurried to the Festsaal of the Austrian Academy of Sciences to watch a talk on lunar geology by the last man on the moon, Dr Harrison Schmitt. Of course, the major draw wasn't lunar geology itself, but a man that had actually poked that lunar geology with a sampling tool. As a geologist Dr Schmitt was in a unique position to apply the instincts of an experienced fieldworker on the moon. Apollo 17 was the las tApollo mission, and by then NASA had really developed some quite impressive kit. Everyone knows about Apollo 11, but who knows about Apollo 17 where the guys spent three days driving around the moon, travelling several miles and revolutionising scientific understanding of an area?
The talk itself was quite interesting as Dr Schmitt has a different opinion on lunar formation to the established view. It was nice to hear different opinions, as the fact is very far from being settled, although I have not read his work to know how justified he is of course. Being an american from the era of Apollo space science and the optimistic expectation that humans would soon conquer the solar system with other big projects, he is keen that we get back to the moon to mine its Helium 3, and ideal, 100% clean fuel for fusion reactors. Overall, this man came across as someone who had a real understanding of science, who while he may have seemed dogmatic and set in his ideas, would actually gladly change them if anyone could actually prove he was wrong. I do not think all famous scientists think like that.
Seeing someone who has actually stood on the moon is a very very odd feeling. It is hard to comprehend how far away this person has been, and how impressive it is thatthey then came back. Harisson Schmitt must be over 60 now, which is another shock. to all intents and purposes, we have moved backwards. We can no longer put a man on the moon in a semi routine way. We have lost the expertise, but more importantly the drive. Dr Schmitt made the important point that Apollo worked for several reasons. First, it had enough money (the man in charge of getting the money asked engineers for their estimates, averaged the figure then doubled it, and he was right on the money), second, it had youth on its side. In the words of Dr Schmitt (quoting the head of NASA or the Apollo programme or both, I forget) they 'didn't know how to fail'. The average age of the people in the control room was 26, and the average age of the 40,000 engineers directly working for NASA was similar. Furthermore, people were given the room to play around with their ideas, rather than being rigidly forced to fulfil a certain target. Nowadays, google uses the same sort of methods, and look where they have got to...
There is always the argument that we should spend out money on earth first. As a science fiction fan it is obvious where I stand, I believe that the inspirational value of the moon landings, as well as their position as an important step towards a final goal of relieving the planet of our crushing presence and not to mention the unforseeable technological and purely scientific gains, are worth the just under 100 billion 2009 US Dollars it cost to put Apollo 11 astronauts on the moon. ( I don't know how much the subsequent program cost). But even if you think we should be banding together to tackle something else, like HIV or malaria or water cleanliness or climate change, I think we still need to look at what made the Apollo programme such a success, and how we can emulate or improve on its methods in the modern world.
I'm going to Prague tomorrow!
Friday, 27 November 2009
Now that's what I call a monastery! 1173
This past Sunday Mirva and I (check my mad grammar) set out to visit Klosterneuberg, a small town a few miles north of Vienna, situated on the shore of the Donau and up onto the surrounding hills. The hills around Vienna may be small, but I like that they are there, London can feel too flat sometimes. Although it does have hills around Hampstead heath etc, they are a rather long way away, visually speaking. These ones stand out nicely.
Very appropriately for the religious nature of our destination, we were slightly hungover due to visiting a friend of my buddy's house and drinking tequila with some friendly Iranians. Ahem. Anyway, Klosterneuberg is possibly a more normal Austrian town, with a sleepy feel which, although I am sure was exaggerated by the day of the week, definitely marks it out from the main city. Even here though, the hand of the invisible person whose job it is to make sure that all of Austria is pretty can be seen.
The focal point of the town is the monastery complex, situated on a steep rise above the main street, with its imposing spires and a substantial group of surrounding buildings. Up close the towers are even more impressive, lots of nice embellishment going on there:
Note that one tower is a different colour, we'll come back to that later...
As we arrived, the main church of the monastery (the thing above) was emitting an impressive choral noise, so we decided to wander inside. It turns out that the interior is even more impressive than that of the Karlskirche. Go back and look at a picture of that, then imagine if it was longer, and all the marble was replaced with more gold leaf and paintings and astonishingly detailed carvings and other casually accumulated pieces of votive art. Woah! just about does it as a descriptive word. Adding to the atmosphere was the fact that it was the Sunday communion mass, so the local orchestra and choir were singing, the church was full, and there at the front was the priest in his robes blessing the bread wafers while the altar boy waved the incense burner around...
After this incredible experience, it was clear that we (well I) needed delicious chocolate cake in order to be able to appreciate any further magnificence. Luckily this sort of thing is not hard to find, and indeed we ended up in a rather cool, jazz oriented cafe where they served the tea with 4 different types of sugar and 3 hour glass timers for 3, 4 or 5 minutes so we could brew our tea to our satisfaction. Awesome.
Klosterneuberg has long been a place where the leaders of Austria have chosen to live or worship or build things, and one of the more impressive bricks in their wall of grandeur is the unfinished 18th century baroque palace of Kaiser Karl VI, planned to equal the Escorial palace in Spain. After he died with it unfinished, all work stopped, as neither the monks being forced to finance it nor his son (who was more interested in Schoenbrunn) wanted to carry it on. Only one of the planned four huge courtyards was built, but it is still huge. The picture above is of the unfinished saa terranum (or something like that) which is supposed to be a ridiculously epic room leading into the garden. Those 'atlantean' statues are REALLY big, and there's 8 of them in total round the room... Below you see the outside, which helps you understand the odd contrast between superficially finished exterior and bare brick interior seen through lots of the palace that was only recently opened up. Monks used it for wine storage! Note person for scale.
The reason I know so much is that you can only go round this place with a tour, and due to the time of year and the fact that it happened to be the english tour that was about to start as we came in, there were only three of us in our tour group. An old Austrian lady took us on a winding tour through the various phases and buildings of the monastery, palace and cloisters. All the doors were locked, so it felt very special, as we'd all have to wait for her to get a key out and open the door to some treasure before we went in, and then of course we were the only ones in there. There were painted figures, stained glass from the 12th century, a huge gold and enamel altar by a man called Nicholas of Verdun, roman artefacts etc etc. The sheer weight of history impresses me, and I find it hard to imagine what it is like for Mirva, as in Finland they don't have the same legacy of ridiculously old things as we do in other parts of Europe.
Finally, here is a view north, if you look carefully you might be able to see some huge castle looming romantically on the hoizon!
Not much to report this week. Work still very interesting. A finnish friend of Mirva's is visiting, she is called Outi which is pronounced like oaty with the t like a mixture between t and d and the emphasis completely on the first syllable. Weather nice.
Ummm.... bye!
PS if you are still wondering about the different coloured towers, it's because some guys who built the second tower in the 17th century didn't bother to colour match the limestone with the first tower! Basically it is a mistake/ labour or money saving device which is still glaringly obvious after 400 years! I think that this fact is very telling about humanity. I can't help but imagine whoever was building it loking at the pile of stones being delivered and thinking: 'oh crap'
Very appropriately for the religious nature of our destination, we were slightly hungover due to visiting a friend of my buddy's house and drinking tequila with some friendly Iranians. Ahem. Anyway, Klosterneuberg is possibly a more normal Austrian town, with a sleepy feel which, although I am sure was exaggerated by the day of the week, definitely marks it out from the main city. Even here though, the hand of the invisible person whose job it is to make sure that all of Austria is pretty can be seen.
The focal point of the town is the monastery complex, situated on a steep rise above the main street, with its imposing spires and a substantial group of surrounding buildings. Up close the towers are even more impressive, lots of nice embellishment going on there:
Note that one tower is a different colour, we'll come back to that later...
As we arrived, the main church of the monastery (the thing above) was emitting an impressive choral noise, so we decided to wander inside. It turns out that the interior is even more impressive than that of the Karlskirche. Go back and look at a picture of that, then imagine if it was longer, and all the marble was replaced with more gold leaf and paintings and astonishingly detailed carvings and other casually accumulated pieces of votive art. Woah! just about does it as a descriptive word. Adding to the atmosphere was the fact that it was the Sunday communion mass, so the local orchestra and choir were singing, the church was full, and there at the front was the priest in his robes blessing the bread wafers while the altar boy waved the incense burner around...
After this incredible experience, it was clear that we (well I) needed delicious chocolate cake in order to be able to appreciate any further magnificence. Luckily this sort of thing is not hard to find, and indeed we ended up in a rather cool, jazz oriented cafe where they served the tea with 4 different types of sugar and 3 hour glass timers for 3, 4 or 5 minutes so we could brew our tea to our satisfaction. Awesome.
Klosterneuberg has long been a place where the leaders of Austria have chosen to live or worship or build things, and one of the more impressive bricks in their wall of grandeur is the unfinished 18th century baroque palace of Kaiser Karl VI, planned to equal the Escorial palace in Spain. After he died with it unfinished, all work stopped, as neither the monks being forced to finance it nor his son (who was more interested in Schoenbrunn) wanted to carry it on. Only one of the planned four huge courtyards was built, but it is still huge. The picture above is of the unfinished saa terranum (or something like that) which is supposed to be a ridiculously epic room leading into the garden. Those 'atlantean' statues are REALLY big, and there's 8 of them in total round the room... Below you see the outside, which helps you understand the odd contrast between superficially finished exterior and bare brick interior seen through lots of the palace that was only recently opened up. Monks used it for wine storage! Note person for scale.
The reason I know so much is that you can only go round this place with a tour, and due to the time of year and the fact that it happened to be the english tour that was about to start as we came in, there were only three of us in our tour group. An old Austrian lady took us on a winding tour through the various phases and buildings of the monastery, palace and cloisters. All the doors were locked, so it felt very special, as we'd all have to wait for her to get a key out and open the door to some treasure before we went in, and then of course we were the only ones in there. There were painted figures, stained glass from the 12th century, a huge gold and enamel altar by a man called Nicholas of Verdun, roman artefacts etc etc. The sheer weight of history impresses me, and I find it hard to imagine what it is like for Mirva, as in Finland they don't have the same legacy of ridiculously old things as we do in other parts of Europe.Finally, here is a view north, if you look carefully you might be able to see some huge castle looming romantically on the hoizon!
Not much to report this week. Work still very interesting. A finnish friend of Mirva's is visiting, she is called Outi which is pronounced like oaty with the t like a mixture between t and d and the emphasis completely on the first syllable. Weather nice.
Ummm.... bye!
PS if you are still wondering about the different coloured towers, it's because some guys who built the second tower in the 17th century didn't bother to colour match the limestone with the first tower! Basically it is a mistake/ labour or money saving device which is still glaringly obvious after 400 years! I think that this fact is very telling about humanity. I can't help but imagine whoever was building it loking at the pile of stones being delivered and thinking: 'oh crap'
Thursday, 19 November 2009
Art is SO GREAT!
It has been another week of many thoughts floating around my brain in a fuzzy cloud, all clamouring to be given the precious (little) oxygen of publicity this blog can provide. So count yourselves lucky you are getting this blog post about awesome art and not about feminism and/or my privileged status in society. No, seriously.
By art here I mean the stuff you find in an art gallery. Something Mirva pointed out is that the word 'art' also technically applies to TV programs, music, epic poetry, cabinet making and so on, but I find it interesting that we native English speakers definitely understand that when I say 'I like art' I am basically talking about pictures. We use 'artist' at least as much as 'painter', even though Russel T Davies is very much one of these, but (as far as I know) not the other.
Anyway. I guess I have always liked art, but for most of my life I was definitely way more interested in making it than looking at it. As with most things required of a child by their school, I saw looking at art as a chore, and as a result of the hilariously superficial bullshit we were able to pass off as analysis of said art, I also saw it as faintly ridiculous. My personal creation sadly peaked at the age of 16 with my art GCSE, although I am not arrogant enough to assume that the mark I received was anything but weakly related to the quality of what I produced, picture wise.
Around this time, I began occasionally going to art galleries not just for school trips,but of my own accord, usually with friends. Be under no illusions, the first time I went to an art gallery like this (probably the Tate Modern?) I am sure it was not out of a pure desire to see art. Rather, going to an art gallery was a cool, grown up and different thing to be doing, from my point of view. If you say you went to a gallery at the weekend, you immediately mark yourself out as a certain kind of interesting, thoughtful, and yes, high class person, or so ran my thinking.
I think this attitude extends to a lot of things people do ostensibly for fun, many people go to places because they 'ought to'. Activities I include in this category include visiting art galleries, watching shakespeare, observing various historical ruins and even perhaps whole cities! Now, I am also certain that many people do not go to see Shakespeare or Athens because they 'ought to' but out of pure love for the thing involved, and that is the somewhat obscured point of this post.
I am extremely glad that I really, really enjoy going to art galleries. I realise that this is not a given, and I could have turned out as one of those 'ought to' people. But I feel the enjoyment I get from paintings is similar to the enjoyment I get from listening to brilliant music. I have one criterion for really good art, and that is: Does it look cool? Cool is not really a defined quantity, but what I am saying is that the visual impact of a piece is the thing. What about deeper meanings? Those can make a piece of art better, but if it doesn't look impressive then I am not interested. Note my choice of word though, impressive does not have to mean beautiful.
A few random points about my gallery enjoyment: galleries are about 500 times better if you have a friend with you. Pictures are made to be talked about, I would find it hard to be excited as much about something I couldn't excitedly gesture at and say loudly 'look at that! Wow!'. The second point is more a corollary of the 'does it look cool?' criterion. If a picture or sculpture does not look cool, I do not waste much extra time looking at it once this decision has been made. I do not believe that I 'ought to' be looking at everything in the place, if it is a boring chore, I stop staring at it!
Here in Vienna, there is a vast amount of art which just looks really really cool. Luckily for me it is also a real centre for works by some of the artistic movements I like best, namely the Impressionists and the (mostly) German Expressionists of the 20th century. There isn't a final point to this post other than the fact that I find visiting art galleries fun to an extent that I never expected would be the case only a few years ago, and I am glad that this is so! I leave you with a couple of pictures that 'looked cool' to me on the evening visit to the Albertina that inspired this post. First is 'Studie für Landschaft' by all round legend, Wassily Kandinsky, second is Mr Lyonel Feininger's 'The High Shore'.
Art, you guys!
Bis bald, der Tom.
By art here I mean the stuff you find in an art gallery. Something Mirva pointed out is that the word 'art' also technically applies to TV programs, music, epic poetry, cabinet making and so on, but I find it interesting that we native English speakers definitely understand that when I say 'I like art' I am basically talking about pictures. We use 'artist' at least as much as 'painter', even though Russel T Davies is very much one of these, but (as far as I know) not the other.
Anyway. I guess I have always liked art, but for most of my life I was definitely way more interested in making it than looking at it. As with most things required of a child by their school, I saw looking at art as a chore, and as a result of the hilariously superficial bullshit we were able to pass off as analysis of said art, I also saw it as faintly ridiculous. My personal creation sadly peaked at the age of 16 with my art GCSE, although I am not arrogant enough to assume that the mark I received was anything but weakly related to the quality of what I produced, picture wise.
Around this time, I began occasionally going to art galleries not just for school trips,but of my own accord, usually with friends. Be under no illusions, the first time I went to an art gallery like this (probably the Tate Modern?) I am sure it was not out of a pure desire to see art. Rather, going to an art gallery was a cool, grown up and different thing to be doing, from my point of view. If you say you went to a gallery at the weekend, you immediately mark yourself out as a certain kind of interesting, thoughtful, and yes, high class person, or so ran my thinking.
I think this attitude extends to a lot of things people do ostensibly for fun, many people go to places because they 'ought to'. Activities I include in this category include visiting art galleries, watching shakespeare, observing various historical ruins and even perhaps whole cities! Now, I am also certain that many people do not go to see Shakespeare or Athens because they 'ought to' but out of pure love for the thing involved, and that is the somewhat obscured point of this post.
I am extremely glad that I really, really enjoy going to art galleries. I realise that this is not a given, and I could have turned out as one of those 'ought to' people. But I feel the enjoyment I get from paintings is similar to the enjoyment I get from listening to brilliant music. I have one criterion for really good art, and that is: Does it look cool? Cool is not really a defined quantity, but what I am saying is that the visual impact of a piece is the thing. What about deeper meanings? Those can make a piece of art better, but if it doesn't look impressive then I am not interested. Note my choice of word though, impressive does not have to mean beautiful.
A few random points about my gallery enjoyment: galleries are about 500 times better if you have a friend with you. Pictures are made to be talked about, I would find it hard to be excited as much about something I couldn't excitedly gesture at and say loudly 'look at that! Wow!'. The second point is more a corollary of the 'does it look cool?' criterion. If a picture or sculpture does not look cool, I do not waste much extra time looking at it once this decision has been made. I do not believe that I 'ought to' be looking at everything in the place, if it is a boring chore, I stop staring at it!
Here in Vienna, there is a vast amount of art which just looks really really cool. Luckily for me it is also a real centre for works by some of the artistic movements I like best, namely the Impressionists and the (mostly) German Expressionists of the 20th century. There isn't a final point to this post other than the fact that I find visiting art galleries fun to an extent that I never expected would be the case only a few years ago, and I am glad that this is so! I leave you with a couple of pictures that 'looked cool' to me on the evening visit to the Albertina that inspired this post. First is 'Studie für Landschaft' by all round legend, Wassily Kandinsky, second is Mr Lyonel Feininger's 'The High Shore'.
Art, you guys!
Bis bald, der Tom.
Monday, 16 November 2009
Ed: The Visit (and other stories)
Yeah so I was cruelly prevented from writing nonsense on the internet at the usual interval by the visit of the famous Sir Edward Taylor, ex-mitbewohner and all round nice guy, so now I have lots to write about. It has been quite the month for visitors, beginning with a meeting with old school friend and fellow german student Tracy last Saturday. It is shameful and not a little surprising that I think the last time we met was about a year and a half ago, but I suppose that's life... Funny that when we do meet it is in Vienna.
As I type this I am looking at a large wall calendar gifted me by the Sushi restaurant I visited on Monday. I am sure in part due to the fact we were about 15 people, not only did we enjoy the low low sushi prices (€6 for 13 bits of sushi), we also got free lychees! I am by no means a sushi expert, so all I can say is that it was tastier than yo sushi and that I especially enjoyed the horseradish sauce/paste stuff (much to the shock of my companions...) Why is the sushi in a landlocked country so cheap?? Conspiracy theorists apply within.
Edward-san arrived on one of the more horrible days I have experienced in this fine city, and while I did enjoy taking him on a long meander through the relentlessly architecturally impressive city centre, I did feel that perhaps that Vienna was not showing her best side. The Naschmarkt was practically empty, meaning that every vendor stood behind their stall and shouted 'Gruess Gott!' or 'Bitte schon!' when you came within 10 metres of them. Mulled wine sellers deliberately take the lids off their wares and exaggeratedly waft the tempting smells towards you... Despite this high level of attention, we still managed to actually purchase some things, most of which we actually wanted. Ed was rather taken by the taste of the traditional still-fermenting wine drink known here as Sturm, which in Ed terms means he will attempt to make some when he gets home. Other purchases were some Medlars (they look like they are rotting/are actually rotting, but that is how they are meant to be eaten and they taste pretty good), some good Austrian cheese and some PROPER pickled gherkins. Ie the kind that are actually fermented in salt water rather than just added to vinegar. No need to keep them in the fridge. I have wanted to try some ever since I learned that what I thought were pickled gherkins actually weren't anything of the kind, and I am quite satisfied with them. Also bought were important ingredients for delicious stew, that evening's meal.
Thursday is the day of extreme lectures, so Ed was unleashed and set to roam free through the city. Thankfully the weather improved, turning into one of those lovely winter days where everything is crisp in the cool sun. He met me after university, appearing unscathed, and I showed off to him some of my favourite more modern architectural marvels, the Mullverbrennungsanlage and the Flakturm. Then we met up with Mirva at the Siebenstern brewery, to eat food Austrian style ('no vegetables please') and to try as many of the beers as possible. All of them proved good.
On Friday there was a veritable deluge of UCL students as we were joined by another friend from home, on a weekend visit from her erasmus year in Munich. We dined once more at the home of the 'best falafel in Vienna', which is indeed very good, though a difficult statement to fully prove, then returned to the market for more Sturm shenannegins (sp?). We explored the centre of town and then climbed the tower of the Stephansdom just as the sun was etting. The view IS worth the 343 steps, although the windows you look out of are rather small and I was hoping for more of a precarious balcony tbh.
Because things never happen spaced out, but instead all at once, Saturday was Mirva's birthday, so I took her to lunch. We debated going somewhere stupidly grand, but in the end settled on a proper Viennese cafe we had already visited once before. the Cafe Eiles is a large and quiet hotel style cafe,with no tourists (except us, we took many photos), just people sitting around reading newspapers clipped to these amazing and very handy newspaper holding wooden frames while sipping coffee. In common with a lot of the less touristy cafes and bars I have seen, it has an old fashioned vibe, harking back not only to the early 20th century but somehow also to the 80s with the posters and applainces on display and in use. I cannot explain it, maybe it is just that eerything still looks like it does in the 1980s published guide to Vienna I happen to possess. It is something about the lack of bright colours. I do not mean by this that it is unpleasant, far from it! It just has very interesting vibes.
Of course as mentioned previously the world is bad at scheduling, so Saturday was also the day I visited the opening of the large christmas market in front of the Rathaus. Beautiful and sparkly with smells of punch, cinnamon, gingerbread and cheese wafting in all directions among stalls of slightly ridiculous christmas decorations and hand made things. What you are really supposed to do is ignore these and just drink mulled wine and punch and enjoy the atmosphere, so we did.
Sunday I rested from the enforced actually having to do things (kidding guys, I enjoyed it) then went on what is becoming an almost traditional Sunday late afternoon walk. I am really enjoying playing around with my camera, I almost wish I had time to learn more not just by experiment, but I am pleased at what I have been getting recently anyhow.
Above: spot the chair
Below: spot the Mirva
This week: more work, less gallivanting, hopefully.
As I type this I am looking at a large wall calendar gifted me by the Sushi restaurant I visited on Monday. I am sure in part due to the fact we were about 15 people, not only did we enjoy the low low sushi prices (€6 for 13 bits of sushi), we also got free lychees! I am by no means a sushi expert, so all I can say is that it was tastier than yo sushi and that I especially enjoyed the horseradish sauce/paste stuff (much to the shock of my companions...) Why is the sushi in a landlocked country so cheap?? Conspiracy theorists apply within.
Edward-san arrived on one of the more horrible days I have experienced in this fine city, and while I did enjoy taking him on a long meander through the relentlessly architecturally impressive city centre, I did feel that perhaps that Vienna was not showing her best side. The Naschmarkt was practically empty, meaning that every vendor stood behind their stall and shouted 'Gruess Gott!' or 'Bitte schon!' when you came within 10 metres of them. Mulled wine sellers deliberately take the lids off their wares and exaggeratedly waft the tempting smells towards you... Despite this high level of attention, we still managed to actually purchase some things, most of which we actually wanted. Ed was rather taken by the taste of the traditional still-fermenting wine drink known here as Sturm, which in Ed terms means he will attempt to make some when he gets home. Other purchases were some Medlars (they look like they are rotting/are actually rotting, but that is how they are meant to be eaten and they taste pretty good), some good Austrian cheese and some PROPER pickled gherkins. Ie the kind that are actually fermented in salt water rather than just added to vinegar. No need to keep them in the fridge. I have wanted to try some ever since I learned that what I thought were pickled gherkins actually weren't anything of the kind, and I am quite satisfied with them. Also bought were important ingredients for delicious stew, that evening's meal.
Thursday is the day of extreme lectures, so Ed was unleashed and set to roam free through the city. Thankfully the weather improved, turning into one of those lovely winter days where everything is crisp in the cool sun. He met me after university, appearing unscathed, and I showed off to him some of my favourite more modern architectural marvels, the Mullverbrennungsanlage and the Flakturm. Then we met up with Mirva at the Siebenstern brewery, to eat food Austrian style ('no vegetables please') and to try as many of the beers as possible. All of them proved good.
On Friday there was a veritable deluge of UCL students as we were joined by another friend from home, on a weekend visit from her erasmus year in Munich. We dined once more at the home of the 'best falafel in Vienna', which is indeed very good, though a difficult statement to fully prove, then returned to the market for more Sturm shenannegins (sp?). We explored the centre of town and then climbed the tower of the Stephansdom just as the sun was etting. The view IS worth the 343 steps, although the windows you look out of are rather small and I was hoping for more of a precarious balcony tbh.
Because things never happen spaced out, but instead all at once, Saturday was Mirva's birthday, so I took her to lunch. We debated going somewhere stupidly grand, but in the end settled on a proper Viennese cafe we had already visited once before. the Cafe Eiles is a large and quiet hotel style cafe,with no tourists (except us, we took many photos), just people sitting around reading newspapers clipped to these amazing and very handy newspaper holding wooden frames while sipping coffee. In common with a lot of the less touristy cafes and bars I have seen, it has an old fashioned vibe, harking back not only to the early 20th century but somehow also to the 80s with the posters and applainces on display and in use. I cannot explain it, maybe it is just that eerything still looks like it does in the 1980s published guide to Vienna I happen to possess. It is something about the lack of bright colours. I do not mean by this that it is unpleasant, far from it! It just has very interesting vibes.
Of course as mentioned previously the world is bad at scheduling, so Saturday was also the day I visited the opening of the large christmas market in front of the Rathaus. Beautiful and sparkly with smells of punch, cinnamon, gingerbread and cheese wafting in all directions among stalls of slightly ridiculous christmas decorations and hand made things. What you are really supposed to do is ignore these and just drink mulled wine and punch and enjoy the atmosphere, so we did.
Sunday I rested from the enforced actually having to do things (kidding guys, I enjoyed it) then went on what is becoming an almost traditional Sunday late afternoon walk. I am really enjoying playing around with my camera, I almost wish I had time to learn more not just by experiment, but I am pleased at what I have been getting recently anyhow.
Above: spot the chairBelow: spot the Mirva
This week: more work, less gallivanting, hopefully.
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