More Twaino

Heidelberg :: Germany

Black Forests, Pink Castles and the show that wasn´t.

Places: Heidelberg

Coolest thing I did: Walked through the Black Forest when the clouds were low enough to be below me.

Coolest thing I didn't know: All mammals, including humans, have a gene that switches on lactose intolerance shortly after birth. The only reason people can handle milk as adults is some freak mutation in Northern Europeans caused them to be able to handle dairy products as adults. Through colonialism, this has spread to much of the rest of the world´s population. (not travel related, i know, but it is the coolest thing I didn´t know).

After spending the sunniest day I´ve had on the continent lazing around in cafes and parks, it was poetic justice that the day I chose to go catch a cable car into the mountains of the Black Forest, it starts bucketing down with rain. Be that as it may, I was determined that I was going to go hiking in the forest, so up I went. It takes two buses and a funicular to reach the peak of Schauinsland. It´s a high enough peak that on a clear day, you can see all the way to the Swiss Alps, which must be cool. On my way up the mountain, at times I couldn´t see further than about 5 meters of cable disappearing into fog in either direction. This didn´t bode well for seeing the Alps, but it did create quite an eerie effect when rows of silouetted tress would slowly fade in and out of view. On reaching the top I found myself looking down into the rain clouds below, which is quite a cool thing to be doing when you aren´t in a plane. It did, however, mean I´d be walking through the rain most of the way down. Still, this didn´t make me too unhappy, just a bit wet.

So I followed the (now) muddy trail down the mountain and into the think forest below. I was told that in most places, the trees would be close enough together to stop the rain. This was total crap. For the first hour, I found myself walking in the clouds themselves, which meant I was getting wet regardless of if it was raining or not. I did, however, manage to forget this in my watching the same effect of trees and rocks slowly gliding in and out of the mist as I went along. I was quite taken by the effect (as you can probably tell) and found myself stopping every few meters or so to try and capture the effect on film. Besides a little bit of walking in the mountains in Morocco, I haven´t done any bushwalking like this in a very long time. I think I enjoyed the time to myself (as no one else was mad enough to be walking in this weather) after being in towns and cities pretty much the whole time since I left London. It gave me alot of time to get some things worked out in my head, and I felt I resolved alot of the thoughts and internal conversations you build up when you are working all day. I felt very relaxed. I can also imagine the track down would be a good run if you were into life threatening mountain biking.

This did, however, come crashing back to Earth a bit when I ran out of forest. I reached the road about 2 km lower than I should have and had to walk an extra 1 km in the open to the next bus stop back to town. This wouldn´t have been so bad if the heavens hadn´t chosen that exact moment to show just how much they could open up. I was a bit annoyed with the world when I finally got back to the hostel and removed my now wringable clothes. I have never enjoyed a hot shower as much in my life.

So the next day found me in Heidelberg, the start of A Tramp Abroad and thus, heavy Twaino country. The town itself has been saved by all the wars since the late 1600s, so the castle still stands mostly intact looking over the old town. It´s got a nice feel, and is made slightly less touristy by the fact it caters more to the still operating University in the heart of the old town rather than to the tourist hordes I´m assured line the place in July. I have been seeing whole troups of old Americans (you can tell them long before you hear the drawling start) being led down the main street. The bloke who owns the curry house assured me it gets worse. He was a good bloke to talk to, as his English was better than most people I´ve met here (being from Bangladesh?).

I liked the fact that there are grungy bars and cafes, and cheap eateries mixed in with the "traditional" German beer halls. It gives the place a more of a lived in feel. I was especially happy with the vinal only record store on the main Uni square. The collection would put most in London to shame, both in Dance and Hip Hop. I got talking to the bloke behind the counter and he told me that there was a show that night at the old station (which is now a concert venue/club) where the headline act was GZA of the Wu Tang Clan. For those who aren´t into hip hop, the Wu Tang Clan were the group in the mid-90s, and the GZA, in his day, was considered one of the greatest to ever hold a mic. It was a chance I had to try and take up, but there were not tickets going for either love or money. This was a bit of a pity, seeing as if I´d been in town the day before I might have been able to get one. Still, the tour continues through Europe so I might get another chance later in the summer.

Out in the line though, I did get to see the effects of having a single global culture is having on the kids. All around Europe, everyone under the age of 20 is dressing like they walked out off the streets of South Central LA. All the hostels have had a good percentage of their rooms taken up by school goups and every radio appears to be playing 50 Cent, almost in unison. I´ve seen the same pattern all across Europe (and in Morocco for that matter). I can´t imagine there being too much of indigenous culture in any of these places (or anywhere in the world with MTV) within 2 decades of now. Perhaps it isn´t the disaster most people seem to think it is. Who gets to decide which countries get the mod cons, satelite TV, mobiles phones and the latest music and who gets to be stuck in a theme park version of the way their country was 200 years ago? I know I´d be pissed off if I had to dress like someone out of Old Sydney Town (a crappy renactment of the first settlement of Australia near Gosford on the Central Coast) just to keep the tourist happy. I can imagine people in Bavaria don´t want to wear lederhosen anymore than the young Berbers of Morocco want to wear robes and lead camels through the desert. It may also help the next generation get along better, if they all have a common point of reference to go from. Either that, or everyone will have cancer from eating McDonalds in 50 years from now.

Right, rant over. I´m off north tomorrow.

The Axis of Stevil

Brussels :: Belgium

Where the beer is really, really strong. And leaving London.

Places: London & Brussels

Coolest thing I did: Received a shirt with a "Stevil" logo designed by my mates Tim & Tulo. Man, I'm going to miss you guys.

Coolest thing I didn't know: The Smurfs and Tin Tin both come from Belgium. I thought it was just waffles.

So, last week was where I tied up all my loose ends in London and said goodbye to the city that's been my home for the last 3 years. Well, that was the plan originally, but I think I managed to leave more than enough things undone than done. It's funny how everytime you solve one problem, another one crops up. Still, the biggest accomplishment was acquiring a Polish tourist visa. This should make my life easier at some stage in the future. Though my trip is kind of lacking in form at the moment, that's sure to stop me from having to find a city with a Polish embassy to wait 3 days in. Only Hungary, Romania, the Czech Republic & Serbia Montenegro now require me to lose up to a week at a time. Man, I hate the Australian goverment's xenophobic views on letting people into our country sometimes. New Zealand solved these kind of issues with bilateral tourist visa agreements long ago. But I digress.

Friday night saw a gathering of people from all over the last 3 years of my life. I was happy to see everyone, even if I did lose control of events towards the end of the night and not get to say goodbye to everyone properly. If someone asked me what the single best thing about living in London was I'd say the people, without hesitation. When you are an ex-pat living abroad, you have a different view on life than when you're grinding away at a 9 to 5 at home, and it's good to have met so many people with the same mindset. Not to mention those who couldn't make it, most of whom don't live in London anymore. I've seen so many people come and go from that city that it's hard for me to get my mind around the fact that it's me taking off this time. It was also good to realise that I've actually met alot of people who aren't Australians. With a transient population that would otherwise be big enough to qualify as an ethnic minority, Australians can quite easily fall into the trap of not meeting a whole lot of people who aren't Australians. That's missing one of the big benfits of London; the fact that there are so many people living there who are from somewhere else. Oh, and the English can be good people too.

The highlight, however, is the Stevil t-shirt. I can't remember who originally decided to name my drunk alter-ego Stevil, but it has stuck for probably the last year. Thanks to creative work by some very talented people, I can now try and explain myself to a whole continent of strangers. Add to that the tag line of "Guten Tag, Mutherfucker" (which comes from antics at Oktoberfest last year, and is also on the shirt) I can also probably offend much of the Deutsch speaking world before I've even met them. Entertaining and culturaly sensitive, what more could I ask for?

So, far worse for wear and & one Ryanair flight later, I found myself in Brussels. I was warned that I would find the place a little dull, and it's not failed to impress in that regard. Despite having had next to no sleep and the hangover to end all hangovers I dragged myself out for a Saturday night in the bureaucratic capital of the Union. Having first taken in the obviously touristed bits around the main square, I followed the crowds of raucous French rugby players who seem to have invaded all at once, looking for the nightlife here. Whist you know everytime you are a tourist in a new city you are going to get fleeced by bars the locals would never go to, I was having trouble coming to terms with the crowds sitting lesiurly around tables on the cobbled street fronts. Whilst most of continetal Europe tends to go for this kind of setup rather than the either overly decorated lounge bars or standing room only pubs of London, it does lack the rowdy ambiance. I did need the break (and should probably get used to the fact that London is a different beast to everywhere else) and after a couple of relatively weak beers (a mere 8% alcohol) I wandered off to bed. Not being able to find an other English speakers floating around didn't help a whole lot either. While I've already discussed my German speaking skills above, my French dosen't extend a whole lot further. Some people did try English, which was nice, but after the pleasantries it was a bit of a struggle.

One thing that does strike me here is this has to be the most pro-European Union country I've ever been to. While I shouldn' be too surprised (I can't imagine Brussels was a political powerhouse of a city before the EU set up shop here), it makes a startling change from the anti-Euro backlash you see almost daily in the UK. I read today that the UK are going to talk about entering the single currency again in 2005. That debate is long over here. I think I've seen about 5 shops whose only specialty is selling EU merchandise. I can't imagine one of those opening up in high street middle England anytime soon.

One thing of note though is the rather unique Museum of comic strip art, housed in a 1906 art deco department store. Apparently both the Art Deco movement and the comic were products of Belgium at rougly the same time. As a bit of a comic geek in my early teens, it found it quite cool to wander around looking at all the original pages of things like Asterix and the Smurfs, and allow myself to be rather intelectual about the whole thing. It struck me that in the French speaking world (much like Japan) there is a lack of comics about blokes in tights and capes and a whole lot more about things grown-up adults read about. One striking set of pages were taken from a comic book about the Bosian war, including picutres of concentration camps, Serb paramilitaries and including the warlord Arkan as one of it's antagonists. By turning and otherwise useful medium into a strictly for kiddies world of x-ray vision and silly maks, I think the US has a lot to answer for. For one thing, I think it's a form of popular art that relates far more closely to the Rubens and Van Dykes I saw earlier in the day than anything in the Tate Modern.

Tomorrow, I see Bruges. I'm not sure whether to expect a functioning town that stretches back to medieval times (like Fes) or a theme park (like Venice). I've got this sinking feeling it's the latter.