5.12.06

Doin' The Van Gogh Go Go

The Monday before last my partner and I packed up our bits and headed off to Amsterdam for a three night stay. We scored some Autumn Special train tickets through Deutsches Bahn and got seats on the ICE for 39 euros each per way Frankfurt to Amsterdam. Absolute bargain. The train took the new high speed line up to Cologne and we occasionally hit speeds of 300kph. Strange to sit there looking at the cars on the autobahn and knowing that most are doing 160 kph+ and you sail past them as if they are parked. The highest straight line speed recorded during an F1 Grand Prix was in the 1998 season and was set by David Coulthard, at 356.5 kph. Not far behind him on this train. Whooooeeeee !!! It took 4 hours to get to Amsterdam and we arrived about 7pm in the evening. The weather was very mild and being on the coast had that wonderful sea air smell that I so rarely get anymore living in central Europe.

The city itself is entirely bereft of hills of any sort and this makes walking and cycling a true delight. Amsterdam is cycle city and they rule the roost when it comes to the bike paths and roads. For the unwary it is diabolical. I encountered my first wave of kamikaze cyclists within seconds of leaving the train station. You dodge one way only to find yourself under attack from the opposite direction as well. If you get in the way you can reckon on being ridden into the pavement without ceromony. By the end of my three days I had not only a very healthy respect for them but something that bordererd on a nervous disorder. You don't hear them coming at all, they are liked winged angels of death swooping at you from all directions at once, like harbringers of doom. I think my neck did so much swivelling from side to side that I was in danger of getting accute muscle strain. A really tough call, bad neck for a month or tyre tracks up your back.
Amsterdam Amsterdam
We walked from the train station through the city centre to our hotel which was located just off the Amstel River to the south of the city centre. Luckytravellers Fantasia Hotel is as the name suggests a little on the alternative side. It was booked on a very good rate and although it was quite simple in its ammenities it was also somewhat unique in its decor. The main theme surrounding the hotel is, just as you would expect, cows! Black and white, brown, dairy, jersey you name it all were represented. Every where you looked and particularly in our room there was a cow looking at you. On the curtains small ceramic lady birds and rabbits about 1 cm large were pinned to the curtains. Most peculiar. Downstairs the owners son had converted the lounge room in his small flat into a bar where he played film clips from the internet and various music tracks. He sold cans of beer at a very good price and I found myself there after returning to the hotel late in the evening for a night cap. Rather eccentric type of guy who provided some very amusing moments. I recommend the hotel for anyone who sports a decent sense of fun. Its location is very central and at under 60 euros per night with breakfast included is great value.

We spent the first full day walking around and taking in the sights as well as visiting several museums. The first in line was the Rijks Museum which houses the largest collection of works by Rembrandt in the world.
Amsterdam Amsterdam Amsterdam
Being the 400th anniversary of his birth we were expecting to find a quite exceptional exhibition. The museum is currently undergoing major renovations and from what I could see at least 50 percent of the building was under construction. They were offering hard hat tours but given that we had not come to watch electricians and plumbers at work we declined the offer. The paintings and drawings on display were great and there was a considerable number of works attributed to his students as well. We had originally planned to spend at least four to five hours there but found that we had seen all that was available in less than two hours. They permitted the taking of non-flash photographs so I did click a couple on the way through. The other strange thing was a total lack of barriers between the public and the art works. Happily I did not see anyone being tempted to put their greasy fingers on them.

Next stop was just up the road at the Van Gogh Museum. This was very good as well and there were 3 floors of his works through various periods. There was a very good section on the the current scientific methods of taking tiny paint samples and seeing how he mixed his palette and layered the paints to achieve the various hues. All pretty amazing really. I was about to take a picture there as well when I was grabbed by a very large black security man yelling frantically, “ No pictures allowed!”. He really was completely out of order and the aggressive nature he displayed put a real damper on the whole visit there. I suggested to him that he really needed to chill out a bit and that if he and his colleagues would care to take some time and put some signs up in the entry area saying “No Photographs Allowed” then this would be a far better solution than dancing around, waving arms, getting upset and yelling at people. He stalked me around the museum for the remaining hour I was there. Just me and my shadow…….. Sheeeesh ! I continued to hold my camera by the lense and occasionally took a sharp turn around a corner and out of sight. I could hear the fast footsteps approaching behind me and a couple of times I doubled back and he damn near collided with me. Ha ha ha ha. I just kept looking at him as if he was some kind of psychopath. I think he was a bit unnerved but he was utterly convinced that as soon as I was out of view I would start taking pictures again. As we were heading for the exit I noticed a couple of bits paper drifting around on the floor and noticing a hologram on one I bent down and picked them up. They turned out to be 24 hr Amsterdam wide public transport tickets valued at about 7 euros each and only 45 minutes old. Wahoo what a find ! There were dozens of people around and I was not about to start asking each and everyone if they had lost their transport cards.

We departed the museum by, you guessed it, tram :) and went back up through the city to visit Anne Frank’s House. This museum of the house where Anne Frank and her family hid through the German occupation is very well done. There are a lot of interactive screens, movies and displays of both historical photos and her diaries. The story that lies behing it all is somewhat lengthy. Born on June 12, 1929, Anne Frank was a German-Jewish teenager who was forced to go into hiding during the Holocaust. She and her family, along with four others, spent 25 months during World War II in an annex of rooms above her father’s office in Amsterdam. After being betrayed to the Nazis, Anne, her family, and the others living with them were arrested and deported to Nazi concentration camps. The Franks were transported to the Auschwitz concentration camp, where Anne's mother died. Anne and her sister were transferred from the Dutch concentration camp, Westerbork, and then to Bergen-Belsen where they both died of typhus some 9 months after being arrested. The father survived and was instrumental in seeing thatb the world got to know of his daughters diaries. She had an amazingly mature and virtually copperplate hand that flowed so eloquently which for a teenager was quite unusual. I guess it says a lots for schooling techniques in the current day. All in all a very moving exhibition but I guess the museum and her diaries live on which leaves the world a very sizeable legacy for contemplation of a humanitarian nature.

Later that evening I set forth alone to look around the city at night and to visit some of of its more unique attractions. In 1976, the Netherlands decriminalised possession of soft drugs such as cannabis. To cater for demand, outlets quickly cropped up in and around the country, specifically in the capital, Amsterdam. These establishments are known as 'coffee shops', but most patrons don't hang out there for a caffeine fix. It's dope that floats their boat. A lot of cafes have signs in their windows saying," NO Drugs Here!". They are after all cafes and not coffee shops. Technically, the sale of cannabis remains an offence in Holland, and dealing in the streets remains illegal. Even so, possession of less than 30 grams for personal use carries only a minor punishment, and coffee shops are restricted to flogging no more than five grams per person. The only catch is you have to be 18 or over. Smoking in public is tolerated but many tokers report that such a laid back attitude takes some getting used to. As a result, they prefer to remain free from all risk of coming into conflict with the law by only smoking in the coffee shops. As expected the menus were full of space cakes and hash browns and definitely not the type associated with American breakfasts either. Business men were dropping in on their way home from work and buying their evening supplies much the same as I would a bottle of wine. I had several coffees and was highly amused by the thought that every single person that was sitting around me was totally off the planet. A most unusual situation and a very interesting look at an alternative cultural experience.

On the following day we went through the old diamond cutters quarter and looked at the housing and factories area that housed the workers when Amsterdam was the world centre for diamond cutting.
Amsterdam Amsterdam
Even today no one disputes that the Dutch are the most skilled diamond cutters in the world. These days other major centres include New York, Antwerp, London, Tel Aviv and Surat. We visited Coster Diamonds at Paulus Potterstraat near the Rijks Museum. They had examples of the worlds smallest diamond as well as models of the Cullinan diamond as it was found and replicas of the many stones that it was turned into. The Cullinan Diamond, found by Frederick Wells, surface manager of the Premier Diamond Mining Company in Cullinan, Gauteng, South Africa on June 25 1905, is the largest rough gem-quality diamond ever found, weighing in at 3,106.75 carats (621.35 g). The largest polished gem from the stone is named Cullinan I or the Great Star of Africa and at 530.2 carats (106.04 g) was the largest polished diamond in the world until the 1985 discovery of the Golden Jubilee diamond (545.67 cts), also from the Premier Mine. Cullinan I is now mounted in the head of the Sceptre with the Cross.The second largest gem from the Cullinan stone, Cullinan II or the Lesser Star of Africa, at 317.4 carats (63.48 g), is the third largest polished diamond in the world and is also part of the British crown jewels, as it forms a part of the Imperial State Crown. Both gems are on display at the Tower of London, as parts of the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom. Some rocks hey. We watched the craftsmen polishing smaller stones and toured the sales area. They had a very nice little Argyle champagne pink from Australia on special for 16,500 euros but it was so small I figured it would just get lost down the back of the couch at some point along with the TV remote and besides, I had left my Amex Centurion card back at the hotel and did not have sufficient loose change about me to purchase one for my partner :)

We slowly wombled up town where we found the Sex Museum, reputedly the largest in the world. As one would expect it pertains to all things pornographic. It was however quite interesting and a great deal more tatstefully done than I had imagined it would be. The basis of it centred mainly on historical photographic images from the 1800’s along with etchings, sailors scrimshaw and carved ivory items such as the handles on gentlemans walking sticks dating back to the turn of the 1900’s that depict erotic figures. The very early black and white / sepia toned images were well preserved and the clothing of the period added a somewhat bizarre air to them. Visions of my great great grandfather and grandmother just somehow didn’t tweak. The section on modern day images and items was quite small and placed in a back room bearing warnings that no complaints would be accepted. All in all it was very well put together and not over priced at 3 euros a head. Was that a bad turn of phrase?

That day was also the day that the England vs Holland soccer match was being played. As a result the streets were alive with the red and white Brits as they overflowed from the local pubs and coffee shops as well as the garish orange clothing and wigs of the Dutch supporters. Hundreds of riot police were in attendance as well. We kept a pretty low profile that evening and drank some beers at a local bar not so far from the hotel. Belgian Duvel beer (Devil Beer) is still my favourite and at over 8% certainly packs a punch. Food costs also bear mentioning as they are quite high. We found it very difficult to locate a simple meal at a reasonable price. They really know how to spike the tourists. I awoke the next day to find that I was still none the wiser as to whom had won the soccer match the previous day. Not that it mattered as to me it is not real football anyway. Go Aussie Rules !

During the course of our stay we had also searched unsuccessfully for a local Buddhist monestary that according to the guide book took 150,000 chinese 3 years to complete. We circled block after block searching for it where the guide book had it marked, all to no avail. On the last day as we were walking back to the rail station we took a small side street and lo and behold there it was.
Amsterdam Amsterdam
Truly massive building. Unfortunately it was closed so we were unable to look around but at least we found it albeit by accident. In the middle of Amsterdam it really was out of place but it gives creedence to the number of asian sailors that have called Amsterdam home during their sea faring days. The Dutch were huge in the East Indies as traders and their ships often had a large contingent of asian deck hands.

Lastly I guess one cannot visit Holland and not make note of the tulips. We visited vast markets that sold almost exclusively tulip bulbs in all the colours of the rainbow. We promptly bought a variety of them as gifts and for our own garden. I came across an aerial shot of tulip fields which was so colourful that I photographed it.
Amsterdam Amsterdam
A friend thinks it looks like a packet of plasticine strips. I think a trip to Holland in the Spring is looking like a must although the countrysdie is so flat I dare say you would require an aircraft to get a picture that truly capture the extent of the colours. The trip back was uneventful and we found ourselves back in the house a bit under 5 hours later. It was not a long visit but I think you can get a pretty good idea of the things on offer in as a little as 3 days. I will go back again at a later stage if only to see the Spring colours and possibly the Rijks Museum when they complete their renovations.

8.11.06

Chilling Out In Germany

Well the chilly Winter weather is slowly creeping in yet again. Last night and this morning the fog was misting quite heavily and the temperatures fell accordingly. Only three degrees travelling home last night. October gave us such a wonderful burst of late sunshine but it has all to soon been snatched away. The trees are bare again and the sodden cloak of brown and gold leaves on the side walks and gardens sit as a blanket of portending doom, heralding the onslaught of ice and rain.

Already, my Winter armour increases in thickness on a near daily basis. The Germans refer to the best method of dressing for the cold as Zwiebeln kleidung or onion dressing (not the salad dressing sort either). Layer upon layer of lighter materials that can be peeled off if not required in the office or on the train and placed back as the temperature falls. The way my legs were freezing this morning I think I will be digging out the thermal long johns for tomorrow.

We move toward Christmas with alarming speed but when I think of the wonderful Weihnachtsmarkt (Christmas Markets) that are held all over Germany with their multitude of Glühwein (spiced red wine) vendors and fabulous stalls of handmade crafts then it helps to ease the transition and gives me something to actually look forward to. The most famous market to visit in my area is the one in Michelstadt in the Odenwaldes.

Michelstadt - Odenwaldes

This market actually draws crowds by the bus load from as far away as England. The plethora of hand made wooden decorations and toys that are created by the local crafts people are outstanding. We now have a brand new train service between Darmstadt and Michelstadt which will provide a direct link to the Glühwein vendors and safely home again afterwards.

So onwards and outwards to the dark dim depths of the oncoming drudgery of Winter, the warmth of Winter fires and encounters with large goblets of mulled wine.

A good mix for making mulled red wine is:

Ingredients:
For each 750 ml (3 cups) of wine:
· 1 stick cinnamon
· 6 whole cloves
· Rind of half a lemon
· 2 to 4 Tbs. sugar
· Cardamon pod (optional)
· Rum, brandy, vodka or schnapps (optional)

Directions
Use cheap wine. Not that cheap, but still cheap, merlot or shiraz will do fine, but will need more sugar. The amount of sugar is inversely proportional to the cheapness of the wine.

Break cinnamon sticks into three or four pieces. Remove rind from lemon in large pieces or one long piece. In saucepot over medium-low heat, combine wine, spices and 2 Tbs. sugar. Heat 1/2 to 1 hour, but do not allow to boil. Longer heating brings out a warmer, more cinnamon flavor. Taste and adjust sugar. Serve, adding a shot of rum or schnapps if desired.

If you do add schnapps, be careful not to inhale while drinking the Wein; you'll choke on the alchohol fumes (I learned this the hard way).
PROST !!!

9.10.06

Fahren, Fahren, Fahren auf der Autobahn

Recently I discovered a new way to get about in Germany. Having surfed for hours on the internet, to try and find a discounted airfare or train ticket from Frankfurt to Berlin, I eventually gave up hope of finding anything less than 200 euros return. Outrageous prices! Even the bus companies which normally offer reasonable rates were asking 178 euros return. It is only a 5.5 hour trip on the autobahn and 1 hour in a plane.

A friend suggested I look at one of the car sharing sites that are now on offer and to my surprise I found people departing on the day I wanted at the time I wanted and also returning 4 days later at the right hour.

There are 2 sites that seem to be most used and these are:

http://www.mitfahrzentrale.de/ (travel with central)

which has quite a few listings but in order to get the drivers contact number you have to call a number that costs 1.89 euros.

The second site:

http://www.mitfahrgelegenheit.de/ (travel with opportunities)

is far nicer as it is a free service and the contact details for the owner drivers are listed on screen.

I managed to organise a lift up to Berlin for 25 euros and a return ride for 30 euros. Quite a saving over the ridiculous prices asked by the main public transport providers.

My trip up to Berlin turned out to be with a nice young guy named Sebastian who had just completed a film & video degree and was currently looking for a job in a film editing room. The other 2 people in the car were a Lufthansa software trainee and a political student from Darmstadt. Everyone was really pleasant and the trip was full of many interesting and varied conversations. Way cooool !!! When we got to Berlin the traffic was just insane but thanks to Sebastians local knowledge we found ourselves ducking and weaving around the back streets and were at our drop off point in no time at all. What it is to have local knowledge. Fantastic.

On my return trip I landed a ride with a young Polish couple, Patryk and Izabela who both work in the financial trade in Frankfurt. They were a delightful couple who were really very good company. We traded stories of our various travels. I learned quite a bit about Poland and they something of Australia. We compared notes on places around Germany and all told, despite the long delays caused by traffic jams created by the Berlin Marathon and the Saturday night Pearl Jam concert, it was a very enjoyable journey. I hope to see them again sometime and hopefully get to enjoy a beer or two with them.

As an alternative mode of travel I highly recommend it. I may have simply gotten lucky with the rides I had but I have the feeling that most people offering to share their car on a trip are usually of an interesting nature. A great way to meet new people and possibly make new friends. C'est La Vie !

26.9.06

Birdman In Berlin & Kamikaze Queens

Radio Birdman-New Wave Army The Legendary Radio Birdman  Flies Again
Just came back from 4 days in Berlin where I was fortunate enough to see Radio Birdman on their 2006 European Tour on Thursday night. Had a fabulous evening at the Kalkscheune watching the boys rip it up. The lineup of Rob Younger on vocals, Pip Hoyle on keyboards and the twin guitar attack of Deniz Tek and Chris Masuak remains unchanged. You Am I's Russell Hopkinson is now on drums while Jim Dickson, a former member of the New Christs and Deniz Tek Group, is on bass.

I counted a total of 21 songs for the gig and I only recognized 5 of them as coming from the new Zeno Beach album. All of my favourite songs were played and my 2 friends from Berlin who had never even heard them before have become instant fans.

After the show Rob Younger came out and mixed with the crowd that was still drinking in the courtyard outside the venue. An Englishman who was following the tour through all its gigs who had spoken to me earlier came over and asked if I would like to meet him. I jumped at the chance of course. Rob is a top man (maybe in the language department as well) and was great to talk with. He was very softly spoken and was at the very least quite interested in learning of how myself and friends from Ballarat and Melbourne were such serious fans and followers. If you get a chance to catch then in passing then, “Book ‘Em Danno!”


Wild At Heart nightclub in Kreuzberg was taking part in the 2006 Popkomm Showcase on Saturday night with bands Phantom Rockers, Heartbreak Engines and the Kamikaze Queens.

The Kamikaze Queens playing essentially Punk / Rockabilly / Garage consist of Trinity Tarantula & Mad Kate on Voluptuous Vocals, Luscious Lloyd plucking Big Bad Bass, Tex Morton (ex Mad Sin, Nitro 17) on Twang Bomb Guitar and the sauve Nico Lipps playing Demolition Drums. Their own definition of their style is Punk Cabaret from Honky Tonk Hell!
Kamikaze Queens - Pscho Punkabilly Kamikaze Queens - Pscho Punkabilly
I got a chance to talk with Trinity for half an hour which was great. She is lovely person with a good sense of humour and a very sharp mind indeed. She has lived in Berlin for 8 years although she is a San Francisco native.

She was kind enough to introduce me to Tex and Nico which was also really neat. They did a howling set that just left the place shaking to the rafters. I have rarely enjoyed a better Psycho Punkabilly band anywhere. If ever you are in Berlin look them up, style your ducktail and get on out there. These guys really rock.

12.9.06

Just Stay On Your Side Of The Line..OK!

We left there to travel to the citadel at Bitche up near the German border.
The Bitche Citadel The Bitche Citadel
The citadel was truly amazing.It was the site of one of the greatest sieges of the 1870-1871 war. On 19 July 1870, France declared war to Prussia. The Prussian troops entered the French territory and attacked the citadel of Bitche on 8 August 1870. The defenders of the citadel, led by Commandant Teyssier, repulsed the Prussians, who laid siege to the fortress. Both the citadel and the city of Bitche were repeatedly bombarded. On several instances, Prussian emissaries required the surrender of the French troops. Teyssier unshakeably answered he would leave the citadel only on the orders of the French government. The siege lasted until March 1871 when Napoleon surrendered his sword to the prussian forces. By the time that occured 280,000 French troops and 140,000 German troops lay dead. On entering the citadel you get a pair of head phones which leads you through a dozen different areas within the fortress. An ongoing movie documents the entire battle as you go from room to room. Fascinating stuff.

On the flank of the citadel were Jardin pour La Paix / Garden for Peace. The aim of the "Gardens without Borders" project is to revive the shared garden history and garden culture in the crossborder "Saar-Lor-Lux" region.

Jardin pour La Paix, Bitche Jardin pour La Paix, Bitche Jardin pour La Paix, Bitche

To date, the following gardens have been opened to the public:
Merzig (D): Sensual Garden
Perl-Borg (D): Roman Gardens at Villa Borg
Perl (D): Baroque Garden Terraces in von Nell Park
Perl-Nennig (D): Renaissance Garden (Schloss Berg)
Mettlach-Tünsdorf (D): Farmhouse Garden
Weiskirchen (D): Perennial Garden in the spa park
Wadern-Dagstuhl (D): Manor House Garden
Merzig (D): Rose Path along the embankment of the River Saar
Konz (D): Farmhouse Garden at the Roscheider Hof
Schengen (L): Baroque Garden and Herb Garden (monastery)
Bitche (F): Garden of Peace
Pange (F): Garden of Awakening

We left there and headed west to Lembach were we stayed over night in one of the old fachwerk hotels of the area. The next morning we went a few kilometers out of town to the Four à Chaux to take a look at the Maginot Line. The Maginot Line was a powerful line of defense which stretched from Switzerland to the Ardennes in the North, and from the Alps to the Mediterranean in the South. It was a vast, dynamic, state-of-the-art, ultra-modern defensive system. Most of its components were underground, where interconnecting tunnels stretched for kilometers, and where, beneath the earth, thousands of men slept, trained, watched, and waited for a war that never came. The massive 70 tonne gun turrets could be raised or lowered by either electric motors or by a one person crank handle. These turrets would lift out of the mountain tops like gigantic steel mushrooms, deliver their bombardment and drop back into the ground when under threat from enemy bombardment. Each cannon was on a chain driven automatic loading system which could fire 100 shells per minute.

The line was built between 1929-1939 over some 700km's as a defence barrier between France and Germany. In the end, the Maginot Line was considered by many to be a failure. It was powerful and supposedly impregnable, yet it failed to save France from a humiliating defeat by the German army in 1940 when its supply lines were cut off from behind. Remarkably despite the incredible fortifications and elaborate tunnels the Germans only took 12 months to take it over after the second world war began. Men spent 3 month tours of duty down in the tunnels and trained at the French naval submarine school to make sure they would with stand the conditions imposed by the claustrophobic living environs. They slept 3 men to a bunk in rotating 8 hour shifts. It really was a remarkable insight into one of mans most unique constructions. Well worth the look. Daunting in its magnitude and saddening in its loss of life. The tour took 2.5 hours and the temperature was a steady 13 deg through out. A chilly life but safe from the bombs and bullets outside.

Tippling The White Fantastic

My holiday with my friend Graham from Katoomba in the Blue Mountains was a lot of fun and we certainly knocked up some miles both on foot and by car, train and boat. For the first 2 days we looked around the local area of Darmstadt, Bad Konig and Michelstadt. It took quite some perserverence given the heavy rain and the end of both days saw me stuffing my shoes with news paper to try and dry them.

On the Wednesday we went to Heidelberg for the ubiquitous tour of the castle and the viewing of its 220,000 litre wine barrel as well as taking the funicular rail to the top of the mountain to the Konigstuhl (Kings Seat) and then trudging back down the mountain to the city.

We left on Thursday for a main driving tour and drove north to Bingen where Graham and I jumped on one of the Rhine River cruises to Koblenz for a 2.5 hour cruise past some 50 odd castles, set amongst picturesque vineyards whilst Bettina took the car on ahead to meet us at the other end. The weather had really picked up by then so it was a magic little journey. At Koblenz where the Rhine and the Moselle Rivers meet (the Deutsch Ecke)we spent some time looking around at the magnificent statues and the fabulous old buildings of the town centre before heading off down the Moselle for the next 3 days.

We managed to score overnight appartments on most nights with balconies over looking the Moselle from where we could sip a couple of bottles of great wine and snack on cheese before heading out for dinner and more sampling of the local grape juice. On 2 evenings (after Graham and Bettina had retired for the evening) I got to meet the wine makers at 2 of the places we stayed and over long discussions on wine and viticulture styles I managed to get beautifully inebriated.

Moselle - Ürziger Würzgarten Moselle River Moselle - Ürziger Würzgarten

The white wines offered along the Moselle are truly magnificent with the area known as Urziger Wurzgarten getting my vote for best wine of the trip. Their Rivaner and dry Moselle were exceptional. Vineyards in this region depending on who you talk to are incredibly steep with gradients between 68-72 degrees. The grapes are harvested by a series of cable drawn pulley cars that run up the slopes between the rows of vines. Tough, hard, unrelenting work for anyone but the end result speaks for itself. Dr.Loosen 2003 Urziger Wurgarten Auslese, a very fine wine from the Mosel-Saar-Ruwer region is also to be found here. The meals served everywhere enroute were fantastic I have certainly put on a bit of weight of the last 16 days.

We eventually ended up in Trier for a look around before drifting across into Luxemburg for a short visit and then heading to Thionville in France for an evening. After that it was off to Colmar in the Alsace via Saint-Die (notable for its church and museum) for 2 nights and regional wine tasting at the cellar doors in Eguisheim and surrounds. After stopping off in Bitche and viewing the citadel and the "Gardens of Peace" we headed over to Lembach (entry place to view the Maginot Line)to stay the night. The following day was Wissembourg for lunch before heading up the Deutches Weinstrasse ( German wine route) through the Rhine Pfalz area. A few more tastings and purchases before rolling on home to Darmstadt.

The next couple of days were taken up with trips to vineyards closer to home around Wiesbaden at Hessische Staatsweingüter Kloster Eberbach where "The Name of the Rose" with Sean Connery, originally a book by Umberto Ecco was produced in the the holy vaults beneath the monastery. Kloster Eberbach - Rheingau Kloster Eberbach - Rheingau
Kloster Eberbach [klos-tur ay-bur-bark] is a 12th Century Cistercian abbey and now the HQ of the German Wine Academy. These days some of the modern dry Rheingau Rieslings are as distinguished in their own way as the great sweet wines of the region. Dry Rieslings from the Rheinpfalz further south where we had just toured had always been a different matter – richer, riper and with a healthier balance of fruit intensity and acidity. Maybe the Rheingau was just too cool a microclimate to do the same thing. Could it be a change of generation, with younger, better-educated winemakers taking over from their parents in the same way as has happened elsewhere in winemaking Europe?

All of my vineyard purchases were white wines which is what Germany and the French Alsace are reknown for, I did however score some great reds from the French supermarkets which are always favourably priced. The French supermarkets provided a wonderful array or terrines, pates, cold meats, pastries and cheeses to help keep the furnace stoked for a large part of the trip :) Mmmmmmm just love the way the French do food!!!!!

All told 1200km in the car plus the boat trip, several train trips and a great deal of walking through villages,museums, churches, up mountains, through castles and fortifications and around vineyards. Totally exhausting but really fascinating and rewarding both in an intellectual and an olfactory sense. Gave my single a brain cell a real work out :)

Grilling In The Rain

The house party this year was an incredibly wet affair with deluging rain on the day prior, the day of the party and the following 2 days. Biblical type downpours that had me searching through the cellar to find enough timber for the contruction of the next ark. This year I bought Bettina a 6x3m pavillion as a birthday gift and this turned out to be a true god send.

The New Pavilion

It was large enough for everyone to huddle under without being to cramped and successfully avoid the worst of the wind and rain. It was a good turn out in general and as for every year the food, wine and beer was delicious. The wine cellar took a real battering but we got the food mix right this year and had very little left over by comparison to the other years where it has taken weeks to munch through the remaining dishes. On the Sunday after I stood in the back garden under an umbrella and defiantly cooked my recovery bar-b-que lunch for 8 staunch hangers on.

House Party 2006

It was pretty bizarre but it still worked even though I was forced to change my t-shirt and jeans after lunch when they continued to squelch. Yeah the price of partying on regardless. The wine cellar took a real battering over that weekend but survived the onslaught and with due care and some diligent replacement purchases on my trip through the wine growing regions of central Europe it looks remarkably better once again :)

4.5.06

The UninTENTional Visitor

It has been a very busy year to date and there has been little time for writing. Best intentions for regular Blogging completely thwarted.

A few amusing anecdotes have arisen in the last few months and are worth recounting here.

I had a call from my mother some weeks ago, who upon returning to her house and having parked her car in the carport became aware of hiking tent which, in her absence, had been set up squarely in the middle of her back garden lawn. Prime position on the best piece of lawn.

She was not expecting visitors herself, nor had her sons mentioned any of their friends passing through.

She went into the back garden and proceeded to walk around the tent. It was a small light weight dome style hike tent with a camouflage pattern fabric. The flap was open and there was no sign of habitation. No rucksack, no sleeping bag, no sign of personal belongings or a person what so ever. She walked around the side of the house looking for any sign of a visitor or a note but found nothing. Eventually she decided that the owner must have gone for a walk to the local shops and would eventually return at some point.

As the sun started to set she occasionally looked out from her bedroom window which overlooked the garden to see if anyone had shown up yet. Still nothing. Much later that evening she even went back out to the garden for another look around but the garden was empty apart from the tent which simply sat there, flap swaying in the breeze, silently mocking her.

The following day and the day after still provided no further answers to the mystery of the tent and its owner.

Upon discussing it with my elder brother he simply said to her, “ Mum, these things are as light as a feather and it has probably been blown in by the wind from somewhere nearby.” Given that she had been having quite windy weather in recent times this seemed quite plausible. That the tent would have needed to clear the surrounding houses, TV antennas and tree tops and then for it to land upright and squarely positioned, bang in the middle of the rear garden, was quite incredible.

My mother hung a sign on the front gate for several weeks saying, “Tent Found – Enquire Within”, but there was no response.

I can imagine some poor hiker setting up his tent, turning around to get the pegs to fasten it down and then turning back to see it sailing away into the wild blue yonder. My brother is right though, it could have come from a long, long way away. Just no telling. Life is full of the unexpected which is what makes it so great.

8.3.06

Brass Monkies In Germany

What a beginning to March! The weather here has been more than a little ferocious of late with the snow falls being the heaviest in 15 years.

Last Friday it snowed relentlessly the entire day and left a blanket across Frankfurt and Darmstadt that was up to 30cm thick in places. The transport network basically failed as buses found their normal routes iced over, transport trucks jack knifed on the autobahns and regular vehicles put their own spin on things, adding to the crash statistics. On Friday alone there were over 250 vehicle accidents in the Hessen area and in Germany 10 fatalities, the highest in Europe.

With cars reduced to crawl speed, commuters shuffling along the iced over pavements and the train service becoming more delayed by the hour, it was a total nightmare getting home. My regular 1 hour and 45 minutes commuting time required almost double that, which I managed to see through with a variety of train station bars and local pubs sheltering me against the storm until the next transport service was available. The temperatures required for snow to fall are not so low but the wind factor can make it feel like entering into a cryogenic chamber. It is utterly freezing..brrrrr!

My Back Yard At Midnight

March In Germany

It brings to mind and old addage, "Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey". This saying comes about from the days of the sailing ships when cannon balls were racked in pyramid form beside the cannons. The lower tier of balls rested on a brass plate covered in indentations to hold the lower level in place which was known as, "the monkey" . In really cold weather the brass metal plate would shrink and the cannon balls would roll off all over the decking undoubtably causing mayhem. Hence the saying.

We have had some reprieve over the last 3 days with only minor falls here in Hessen where as Bayern and the Black Forest areas were hit yet again on Sunday causing further chaos. Bayern has been busy digging itself out of over 3 metres of snow in the last few weeks, only to have it all come back again in 24 hours. They have had mountain avalanches and the roofs of public buildings collapsing under the weight. One ice rink hall roof collapsed killing several people inside. Monday saw schools and train services completely cancelled in the south and south west.

Given how much I detest having to go out in the early mornings to clear the footpath of snow, a legal requirement here in Germany, we have had it pretty good here in the mid-West of the country.

Today it has been snowing lightly for the last 5 hours and I truly hope that it will clear before much longer. Weather experts (ha ha ha) say it could continue till the end of April. Welcome to the ice age! My greatest hope lies (optimum word) in the knowledge that, “ Little boys who tell lies, grow up to become weather forecasters!”. In the meantime I will maintain the lease payments on my husky dog team and sled.

Mush! Mush!

23.2.06

Elton John Howard

It is alleged that the fastest selling nostalagia album in Australia in the last 12 months has been :

"Captain Bombastic and the Brown Shirt Cowboys".


Also picked up recently:

"What a silly, boring little man. His only function is to let you know what Harry Potter's going to look like when he's old."

British comedian Billy Connolly on Prime Minister John Howard.

15.2.06

Pink Elephants And Needles Of Ice

Things certainly are cold here and getting colder all the time. Yesterday the wind was howling and driving blankets of wet snow along with it. Horizontal blizzard. I looked up as I got off the tram and my face was smattered with big wet flakes of snow that instantly melted and ran down my front. With a 40 kmh wind in your face it then becomes absolutely freeeeezing!!

As for Moscow, wow are they suffering the wildest extremes ever. We have a saying here, " Kannst du den Wodka von Ostwind her riechen?" or "Can you smell the vodka on the wind from the east?" When the wind blows hard out of the East from Russia, the temperatures here absolutely plummet like a stone a few days later.

It was -26 celsius in Moscow yesterday and 2 weeks ago it was down to -37 celsius. Out at the oil fields in Siberia it went down to -63 celsius. People in Moscow were being rushed to hospital with frozen eyeballs. Now that's what I call a very cold stare. They are enduring some of the coldest weather since 1927 and the death toll is steadily mounting.

A Russian circus resorted to giant vodka cocktails in an attempt to protect performing elephants from extreme cold. One of the animals got so drunk it nearly destroyed the circus. The clear liquor was added to the animals’ water buckets as they began to feel the chill of temperatures as low as minus 30 degrees Celsius. The elephant trainer was quoted as saying, "“Yesterday we gave one of the elephants a bucket and the circus lost its heater — the elephant just tore it off.” Zookeepers are taking a similar approach in the town of Lipetsk, south of Moscow, keeping macaque monkeys warm with sweet wine which is dispensed to them three times per day. I have heard of pink gins so maybe this is where pink elephants come from. He he he.

Last week we had 2 days of blanketing fog in Darmstadt. A real pea souper.

When I first awoke in the morning I thought it had snowed over night but as my eyes slowly peeled back with the dawn light I realised that it was not really snow white but more a very pale shade of grey. I though I was seeing things and after some eye rubbing I went out the back door and realised that everything was needled in ice which was allowing the colours from underneath to taint the colour of the ice.

The droplets of moisture in the fog froze to everything and produced these needle fine crystals, like cactus spines, in clumps along every outdoor surface. It was bizarrely pretty. The trees, the grass, the fences and even the cars which looked liked hedgehogs, were coated in it.

My friend Lynne took this picture on the same morning where she lives across town.

Ice Spikes After The Fog

It really was just so beautiful and other worldly. I have never seen the likes of it before. A new highlight of life in a very cold Germany.

10.2.06

What's In A Name?

City Names In Germany


I came across this map the other day highlighting some of Germanies more unusual town and city names. Every single marked town on this map translates into something bizarre. I include here some of the basic translations and I will let you be the judge. Nothing is sacred. He he he! I do love Germany and its people but where do they get these names from? Mein Gott! I will find out. I feel I must travel to these enclaves of deepest and darkest Germanic heritage in search of the truth. Possibly when visiting Kuhbier we can chew the fat with the locals and eventually end up back in Wixhausen for prolonged mastication of the facts.

Here are those names........

Kotzen - Vomit
Pissen - Urinate
Gammelshausen- Hippie Houses
Wixhausen - Wankers Houses
Fickmühlen - F**k Mills
Blödesheim - Stupid-ville
Affendorf - Village of Apes
Venusberg- Mount of Venus
Tuntenhausen - Transvestite - ville
Böß Gesäß - Bad Ass
Fickingen - F**king
Kuhbier - Cow beer
Bussenberg - Breast Mountain
Faulebutter- Rancid Butter
Drogen - Drugs
Oberkotzen - Vomit over
Mückenloch - Dirty Hole

8.2.06

What Goes Up Must Come Down.

An interesting question that I came across the other day.

“ We often see images of crowds of people firing hundreds of rounds of bullets into the air in celebration. What happens to those bullets? Surely they cannot keep heading into space forever? When gravity finally takes over, why aren’t they falling and killing the people that fired them?”

A great answer by Dr Karl S. Kruszelnicki.

“I’ve never been in such a crowd, but I would guess that most of these revellers think their bullets can’t hurt them. They’d be wrong.

The first thing to realise is that what goes up must come down – albeit, in the case of a bullet, more slowly. A bullet is fired with a typical muzzle velocity of about 3,000 kmh. Once gases stop pushing it, and it has well and truly left the barrel of the gun, it begins to slow. When it is fired upwards, two forces are acting to slow it – the resistance of the air and the downward suck of gravity. Typically a bullet takes about 30 seconds to climb to a height of around three kilometres. Eventually it will come to a dead halt, then begin its descent.

The suck of gravity is not nearly as powerful as the explosive gases that first fired the bullet from the barrel, so the plummeting projectile will only accelerate to a speed of somewhere between 330and 770 kmh – depending on the weight and the shape of the bullet.

A speed of 770kmh may be much slower than 3000kmh, but it is still more than enough for a bullet to penetrate a human skull (you need only 220kmh to do that). Most people who have been hit by bullets falling from the sky are struck on their upper back, the top of their head or their shoulders.

After the end of the Gulf War, Kuwaitis celebrated by firing weapons into the air and 20 died from falling bullets.

In Los Angeles between 1985 and 1992, doctors at the King/Drew Medical Centre treated 118 people for random falling-bullet injuries. Thirty eight died. Practically all of the injuries were caused by holiday-wekend party-goers discharging weapons.

Unfortunately, there have been instances in Australia where bullets have been fired into the air during celebrations. A few years back, a nine year old girl (in Belfield, Sydney) was watching New Year’s Eve fireworks with her parents in their driveway. At 12.05am, January 1st, 2002, a bullet fell out of the sky and lodged in her upper arm. If she had been standing a few centimetres to one side, she could have been killed.”

3.2.06

Things That Go Bump In The Night.

I realise this has nothing what so ever to do Europe and my time here but I was recounting it to another person and I thought I should share it. The things we dooooooo!

We had a young Scottish guy who was working with us on a minerals exploration drilling program up in the far north of Australia on the Gulf of Carpentaria. We were camping out in an abandonded homestead about 300km north of the nearest town. Coming from central Scotland, Donald firmly believed in ghosties and ghouls and all things that go bump in the night.

A couple of us got together before Donald arrived at the camp and made a cassette tape with about 15 min of silence at the start and then we had people clanking lengths of chain, murmuring and laughing in deep spooky voices. This would go for about 20 seconds and then there would be a pause of about a minute or so before starting up again and so forth for about a total of 10 minutes.

On the night of his arrival, as we sat around the camp fire, we all told him tales of a group of murdered stockmen that were ambushed by aboriginies over 100 years before in the dry river bed below the homestead. Having sufficiently spooked him, we declared it a night, turned off the portable diesel generator that was running the lights and crawled into our swags / sleeping bags.
Behind the rusty old water tank about 30 meters away, we had placed the cassette player running on batteries and turned it on. Everyone said good night to each other and pretended to be fast asleep within minutes.

About 15 minutes later it began and Donald sat straight up and yelled, "Fook did you hear that???" We took it in turns in the dark to respond to him telling him to shut up and go to sleep and that there were no sounds and that he was dreaming. Of course we were all lying there quaking in stifled laughter as Donald rapidly progressed towards complete nervous hysteria. After about the 4th round of ghostly noises he bolted out of bed, ran outside and started up the portable generator, flooding the camp in lights. He stood with his back to the dying embers of the camp fire and a long handled shovel braced across his chest, staring wildly into the night.

We left him standing there to enjoy the sounds of a blissfully quiet evening in the bush whilst we all turned over and went to sleep.

Even to this day he has never been told the truth. I mean to say what are mates for.

2.2.06

Awwww You've Surrendered !!!

My brother and his family recently travelled to South Africa and regaled me with this story.

Whilst in Nairobi they visited a rather unique open air meat speciality restaurant aptly named, “Carnivore”, which serves a host of various animals grilled to perfection and is widely regarded as one of 'Africa's Greatest Eating Experiences'.

After being seated by a large African waiter they were given an array of bowls with various dipping sauces and a small pennant flag on a stand which read “Carnivore”. When they enquired into the reason for the flag they were told in his booming barritone, “ Dis is your flag, when it is up we will keep coming with the food and when it is lying over it means you have surrendered but I hope you do not surrender!”

Skewered upon converted masai spears over a centrally located char grill were a host of meats including lamb, pork, venison, rump and sirloin beef, lamb, spare ribs, chicken wings, sausages and local specialities including zebra, ostrich, crocodile, giraffe, impala and hartebeest.

The waiting chefs appeared table side and proceeded to carve meat direct from the skewers onto the cast iron plates on the table. Everytime the plates were even beginning to show signs of depletion the servers would reappear and slice another plate full of whatever you desired.

Plate upon plate arrived and hence it was not overly long before my brother and family were slowly turning green at the gills and despite the urge to sample as much as possible of the offered fare, the sheer physics of abdominal expansion eventually won out.

My brother laid the flag on it its side and out of nowhere the large African waiter appeared once more and said with a look of disappointment, “Awwww you have surrendered, what a shame!”. The guy obviously had a wild sense of humour although I think the diners were to full to laugh themselves without risking an unwanted physical reaction.

There is a vegetarian menu available with salads and vegetable side dishes but it goes without saying that you would probably find the ambience upsetting on moral grounds if you were a vegetarian.

If you are headed to Nairobi then all I can say is, “Bon apetit!”

27.1.06

John (Milton) Howard - Prime Minister Of Paradise Lost

One of the things that has most upset me in the time I have lived here in Germany, is the way in which my home country of Australia has changed in the eyes of the world, forever. I was always happy to go forth into the world and state my nationality with pride and the certain knowledge that we, Australians, were the most eclectic mix of race, religion and politics on the face of the planet. We were a nation built on the cultural foundation of every other nationality on the planet. We have never shown reluctance to accept the ways of others, no matter their background, until the spin doctors in Canberra started the fear and loathing propaganda. A campaign which to my mind was responsible for setting off the race riots in Bondi.

The world was welcome to share our land and our lives once upon a time.

Since my departure from Australia I have watched in mute anger and desperation as dentention camps sprung up in the deserts, people being detained without chance of reprieve for years on end. I have watched in disbelief as an anti-terrorism bill, which was defeated in the British parliament due to infringements of the Human Rights Act, was swept in to law in Australia. Our constitution had never needed or required a Human Rights Act before yet the failure to instigate one has enabled the Howard government to push this bill into law virtually without opposition. A large smoke screen was also thrown up at the time of its instigation by making sweeping reforms in the Industrial Relations laws that dramatically affected every working Australian.

Did it ever occur to you Mr Howard, the type of legacy that you leave behind you for your children's children? I think not. Paradise lost! Paranoia found!

I came across the excerpt below recently and felt it really said just so much about our current political and social direction in recent times. I will let you the reader draw your own conclusions.


“What no one seemed to notice was the ever widening gap between the government and the people. And it became always wider…the whole process of its coming into being, was above all diverting, it provided an excuse not to think…for people who did not want to think anyway, gave us some dreadful, fundamental things to think about…and kept us so busy with continuous changes and ‘crisis’ and so fascinated…by the machinations of the ‘national enemies’, without and within, that wehad no time to thinkabout these dreadful things that were growing, little by little, all around us…

“Each step was so small, so inconsequential, so well explained or, on occasion, ‘regretted’, that unless one understood that the whole thing was in principle, what all these ‘little measures’…must one day lead to, one no more saw it developing from day to day than a farmer sees the corn growing…Each act is worse than the last, but only a little worse. You wait for the next and the next.

“You wait for one great shocking occasion, thinking that others, when such a shock comes, will join you in resisting somehow. You don’t want to act, or even talk, alone…you don’t want to ‘go out of your way to make trouble’. But the one great shocking occasion, when tens or hundreds or thousands will join with you, never comes.

“That’s the difficulty. The forms are all there, all untouched, all reassuring, the houses, the shops, the mealtimes, the visits, the concerts, the cinema, the holidays. But the spirit, which you never noticed because you made the lifelong mistake of identifying it with forms, is changed. Now you live in a world of hate and fear, and the people who hate and fear do not even know it themselves, when everyone is transformed, no one is transformed.

“You have accepted things you would not have accepted five years ago, a year ago, things your father…could never have imagined.”

From Milton Mayer, They Thought They Were Free, The Germans, 1938-45 (University of Chicago Press, 1955)

What It Means To Be British

One of the British national daily newspapers is asking readers
"What it means to be British?". Some of the emails are hilarious,. This is one from a chap in Switzerland ...

Being British is about driving in a German car to an Irish pub for
a Belgian beer, then travelling home, grabbing an Indian curry or a
Turkish kebab on the way, to sit on Swedish furniture and watch
American shows on a Japanese TV and when they are overseas, in trying to be popular, they pretend to be Irish.
And the most British thing of all?
Suspicion of anything foreign.

25.1.06

Good Wine And Cheese Don’t Go Together?

Oh my god, it’s the end of the world as I know it! All is lost! My senses are numb with shock and my lips tremble in despair. My darkest hour is upon me as it would seem that one of favourite past times is under assult by the boffins.

The New Scientist Magazine recently reported the following findings:

Don’t waste good wine if you are eating cheese. The magazine shows the wine buff’s favourite accompaniment masks the complex flavours of wine.

Researchers at the department of viticulture and oenology at the University of California asked a team of wine tatsters to evaluate cheap and expensive versions of four different red wines.

After cheese, the wines were judged to taste flatter, with pinot noir, shiraz and cabernet sauvignon all deemed to have lost flavour.

The scientists believe proteins in cheese might bind to flavour compounds in wineand make them harder to taste. "


Hmmmmmm!

Cheese has presented many dilemmas in its time even to leaders of the free world:

“How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese? “
--Charles De Gaulle

Personally I think the wine has little choice in my world but to continue to suffer, as nothing in this world gives me more happiness than a big chunk of Rocquefort or Mimolette washed down with a glass of vintage 1997 Barolo or 2000 Margaux. I’ll drink to that!

21.1.06

Wine all Wine!

You must be very patient to reap the rewards of aged wine. Use anything and everything you must to avoid drinking it too soon. I've had 6 trips to the Betty Ford clinic whilst waiting.

11.1.06

Banal Humour

Some more banal humour for your inevitable titillation:

· I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my Grandfather. Not kicking and screaming like the passengers in his car.

· Two atoms are walking down the road. One turns to the other and says, "I think I've lost a neutron". There other one says, "Are you sure?" He feels himself up and down and says, "Yes, I'm positive."

· A priest, a rabbi and a vicar walk into a bar The barman says, "Is this some kind of joke?"

· Two hungry goats are walking around Hollywood when one of them finds a discarded reel of film and gobbles it up. The other goat asks: 'What was it like?' to which his mate replies: 'Not bad. Not as good as the book.'

· What do you get if you divide the circumference of a pumpkin by its diameter?
· Pumpkin Pi

· My grandmother started walking 5 miles a day when she was 60. She is now 97 and we don't know where she is.

· "Hey," says one musician to another, "who was that piccolo I saw you out with last night?" "That was no piccolo," he replied, "that was my fife."