Azamara

Africa Through the Bottom of a Glass – Prologue

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When I worked full-time for a living and spent a large proportion of that time on the road (or in the air to be more accurate) we used to say that the countries you least wanted to go to were the ones that made it hardest for you to get there. For me that was Iran, Pakistan and at least the first few times, India. The child bride and I are about to embark on a cruise up the West African coast from Cape Town to Lisbon and obtaining visas for the various stops is proving somewhat problematic. But first let me recount a story in a similar vein.

Back in the day I spent an awful lot of time in India. It wasn’t always awful, in fact it rarely was except when a severe bout of the inevitable descended. Descended right through me in fact. But that’s a different and not really worth revisiting, story. So on this particular trip I was looking forward to coming home in a day or so when I got a call from my boss. I know he’s going to read this so I’ll keep the abuse to a minimum. If you are a regular reader of this blog you will have read the story about when he asked me, on a Sunday night, to go to India on Monday during the 1989 pilot’s strike and I didn’t have a visa. This was a bit different – he wanted me to go to Pakistan.

Not such a big deal you would think because it’s next door. It is though, when your passport’s almost full. Going back a step, I was pretty pally with the Austrade Senior Trade Commissioner who worked out of the Australian High Commission which is next door to the Pakistan High Commission as luck would have it. He gave me the name of the Pakistani senior visa guy so I walked next door, told the security guys who I needed to see and one of them escorted me to his office. That’s when I was told I needed a full blank page in my passport (which I didn’t have) for the visa stamp (no sharing it seemed) and the inside back cover, the bit stuck to the cardboard, wasn’t good enough.

Back to the Aus High Commission I went and an hour later after rushing off to find somewhere that did passport photos I had a brand new passport in my hot little hand. It was hot because the passport has hot – straight off the presses. So back next door I went.

On arriving back at the Pakistan HC it seemed all of the security guys had gone to lunch and not only had they left the gate unlocked, it was wide open. In India! So I walked in completely unmolested. I knew where the visa guy’s office was so I walked across the courtyard and into the building like the invisible man and knocked on the visa guy’s door. He didn’t seem too perturbed to see me and proceeded to get my visa stamped. Somewhat bemused I was thinking to myself that a James Bond gig would be pretty easy if all you had to do to break into a foreign embassy was wait until lunch-time. This was some time ago and there has been a bit of ugliness between the two countries since then so I am sure they have beefed up security by introducing staggered meal times.

That was that although as an epilogue to the process, when my Pakistan Airlines flight took off it felt like we had been fired out of an almost vertical cannon. I have only experienced similar prolonged steepness, like sitting in the space shuttle, when flying over the Andes from Santiago in Chile where the ground seems to be only a few hundred feet below you for about half an hour. The relationship being what it is between India and Pakistan I guess they wanted to get out of missile range as quickly as possible.

I can’t remember whether all of that aggravation was worth it. I never managed to sell a tonne of coal into Pakistan (with that company – I did later with another) so I guess ultimately, it wasn’t.

Back to our trip. We are visiting South Africa, Namibia, Angola, Ivory Coast, Ghana, Gambia, the Canary Islands, Madeira and Portugal. As with most e-applications these days you are presented with drop down menus and limited choices. Interestingly most of these guys are not with the multiple gender program yet because you only get two choices in their genetically based application process. Not even three let alone the 74 listed on most university application forms! Guess they’ve got more pressing issues. The menu for port of entry for one country provided for three land based and two airports. Problem. Problem has not gone away and their embassy with responsibility for Australia which is not in Australia is, like Joe Biden, not taking questions. And I was getting as much sense out of one of the others as journalists get from Joe Biden’s press secretary (but she is the first black, immigrant, lesbian press secretary, so it’s alright). I actually completed this application before an administrator asked for our flight itinerary. After explaining three times that we would arrive by boat so we didn’t have flight itineraries, they eventually explained they only issued visas for entry by air. Now I’m politely explaining to them why they need to reimburse the visa fees I paid to complete the process (or so I thought). I could be the victim of a very elaborate scam here.

Anyway, we’ll see what happens. We spent three days in Russia off a cruise a while back and it was the only place in Europe that wanted us to buy (the operative word) a visa. We got off and on the boat numerous times without an immigration officer in sight. Maybe this trip will be the same. Stay posted to find out.

European Safari Part 8

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This is the last entry (other than a prologue describing the aftermath – following) regarding the child bride’s and my gallivant round the Baltic and other salubrious European destinations. Stay tuned for the Mekong Muster covering our recent visit to the backblocks of Cambodia and Vietnam ……. in a degree of luxury it has to be said. Remember the child bride has a pathological hatred of cheap champagne and all things camping.

 

Last day today, in Stockholm and we’re doing a roof top walk. There are always numerous onshore trip options and this was an opportunity too good to miss. Saw a couple of the gay guys at breakfast this morning. They’re going to the ABBA Museum. Obviously.

Back from our roof top walk. Wow just about covers it. 40 odd metres up on top of the court house on a walkway about a foot wide with a harness attached to a wire at floor level. You also wear a hard hat which is basically a blood bucket if you fall off. The CB was a bit dubious at first but handled it with aplomb. I got the wobbly boots a couple of times I have to admit but they assured us they hadn’t lost anyone this month so I wasn’t going to be the first. As you can imagine the views were fantastic.

The guides were these fit young Swedish ladies with well developed………senses of humour – quite a pleasant surprise. One regaled us with tales of midsummer celebrations in Sweden (longest day of the year, usually late June) where singing comes before drinking not the other way round. So you sing a ditty then everyone in the group downs a shot. Then the next person sings and you down another shot and so it goes. She gave us two renditions of her ditty, when she was first and when it came round to her turn again in a group of 25. A bit like Not Garfunkel at 2.00pm and Not Garfunkel at 6.00pm but in reverse because we sound better the more we drink. And she pointed out that many babies are born 9 months after midsummer. March must be birthday season in Sweden.

All sounded pretty good to me until she explained what they traditionally eat. Herring figured prominently. I tried pickled herring once. It was revolting. I think they pickle it in brake fluid.

The photo count is up over 1300 after Stockholm with a few more of the ship before we leave tomorrow morning then we’re done. It’ll take me all of next week to file them. Took some photos of the sunset last night. It was amazing; unlike anything we get at home. The sky was like a cathedral dome painting without the angels and cherubs (that we could see).

We’re now sitting in The Looking Glass, our favourite bar, for the last time on this trip reflecting on what has been a fabulous twelve days. The CB’s having her last champagne cocktail and I’m not having my last beer. It’s always a shame to leave and plenty of people stay on for more than one leg. The next one for this ship is almost a reverse repeat of what we’ve done but finishing in Southampton instead of Copenhagen so I don’t expect many will stay on. There were quite a few who stayed on from the previous cruise which was the Norwegian fjords. Apparently the weather was atrocious. Everywhere we’ve been the weather has been great and invariably the tour guides have said “lucky you weren’t here last week….”. Not sure I could do consecutive voyages.

As I said in the previous post we need a rest after this holiday. But then we did have a week in England and a week in Ireland before joining the cruise and we didn’t get out of either unscathed. I forgot to mention in the bit about Ireland – Crean Lager – brewed on the Dingle Peninsular. Superb drop.

Just got back from the final show of the cruise – a hypnotist. He started off with 10 volunteers, 5 men and 5 women. When he’d culled those who weren’t playing the game there were 5 women and 1 man. Interpret this however you want. I personally thought it was bullshit. And he started off by saying he wasn’t going to get them to do anything “dirty” (his word) or remove any clothing so it was a complete waste of time.

That’s it. So we’ve added a few countries to our “Visited” list and crossed a few more things off our bucket list but there are very many more on both lists. If you have the inclination and the wherewithal don’t leave it too late.

European Safari Part 7

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We’re just pulling into Helsinki with only today here and tomorrow in Stockholm to go. Thursday we head to Stockholm airport and home. It’s been over 3 weeks now and after 3 solid days in Saint Petersburg and 3 solid weeks of enjoying ourselves we’re starting to feel a bit jaded like someone I’ve already mentioned a couple of times. I’m pretty sure I now know what a world tour with Guns N Roses feels like. No one’s thrown any underwear at me yet (thank heavens for small mercies). And apparently all of those marriage proposals in Russia were from hookers.
Day 3 in Saint Petersburg was more opulence and extravagance. Peter the Great’s summer palace (about as far out of town as Redcliffe is from Brisbane) is called Peterhof. It is famous for fountains – 180 of them of which 150 have been restored. Most of them comprise multiple jets (500 in one) and all run on gravity – there were no pumps in 1720 and restoration is to the original including gold leaf on virtually everything. And he had nothing on his daughter Elizabeth and niece in law (I think), Catherine the Great who both went berserk when it came to decorating, renovating and building and generally spending money. Why am I not surprised?
Like many places in this area, Peterhof saw two pitched battles in WWII – when the Germans arrived in 1941 and when they were driven out in 1944 so it was mined and bombed to within a facade of its life. But it’s back to what it was like and is a reminder of the disgusting waste of money that went on back then but attracts gaping mouthed tourists now.
We also went to St Isaac’s Cathedral which was used to store valuable stuff during the war on account of its 2m-5m thick granite and marble walls. Another church filled with gold, artistic masterpieces and icons. Ho hum.
Interesting parallel between Russia and Vietnam. The locals were the heroic defenders of all that is good and the Germans and Americans respectively were the worst kind of bastards. We heard snippets of the Red Army’s behaviour in Gdansk and Ronne so as they say, the winners get to write the history although I’m pretty sure the Yanks still think they won in Vietnam.
We had the obligatory all singing all dancing White Night on Sunday evening. The gay boys were in their absolute element putting to shame everyone including two professional dancers, on board to do their enthusiastic ballroom dancing routine – the bloke was throwing the girl around like a marching band leader’s baton when we saw them. Incidentally we saw them perform at an exclusive (half the boat was there) function for repeat cruisers who are in the cruise company’s club. We’ve done three so went along. They also give out awards to the top cruisers on the boat. A UK couple are up to 38. I doubt we’ll live long enough to do that or have the money.
We left Saint Petersburg at 7.00 pm last night so had plenty of daylight to check out the “newer” parts of the city. These included the massive port infrastructure that stretches for miles along the river and into the bay as you head out to sea. There were dozens and dozens, possibly hundreds of cranes at container terminals, a scrap iron wharf, wharves where there were acres and acres of what looked like cement bags, thousands of aluminium ingots and dry docks and floating dry docks galore plus a naval shipyard. Not one crane was operating, there were no people to be seen and there was no vehicle movement anywhere. It was positively eerie – almost as if the whole place shut down when the communists left. Big ports operate 24/7 all year round and especially when the temperature is 22 degrees in a port that ices up in winter.

I was reminded of the Peter Sellers movie, The Mouse That Roared where this tiny imaginary European country decides to invade America and lose so the Yanks will rebuild their country. They just happened to arrive in New York during a nuclear war exercise so everyone was in bomb shelters. They had to go home to report that unfortunately they had won. If the Germans took on Leningrad (the original sign at the port entrance is still there) again, disguised as tourists on cruise ships they’d win hands down. They would however have a fight on their hands with the Chinese who are everywhere and not just in Russia. They take photos of everything in minute detail so don’t be surprised if a few imitation Peterhofs or Hermitage palace museums spring up in Guangzhou.
Being in Finland I feel somewhat compelled to have a Pure Blonde beer but less compelled to have a pickled herring burger or reindeer hot dog. I’m sorry but the only reindeer I know all have names and are absolutely vital to the success of Christmas so eating them just wouldn’t feel right.

I’m reminded of the Finnish national anthem which goes something like this:
Finland, Finland, Finland,
The country where I just want to be,
Pony trekking or riding,
Or just watching TV.
It was written by either that famous Finnish composer Sibelius or by Monty Python. I can’t recall which.

Speaking of notable Finnish, Paavo Nurmi is a local hero who had many notable finishes at the 52 Olympics which were held here. He was a distance runner. There is a statue of him outside the Olympic stadium and he’s nude. I thought that was Ancient Greece not 20th century Europe.
But what a wonderful place (like most places we’ve been to this trip). The sun’s shining, there’s no wind, hardly a cloud in the sky and it’s 22 degrees. I could live here until +22 becomes -22 and the sea freezes. Then I’d shift to my summer palace in Redcliffe.

One more wonderful place to visit – Stockholm. We know it’s wonderful because we’ve been there. Consequently tomorrow we are undertaking a more unusual tourist caper. It’s a rooftop walking tour which goes to some pretty scary places apparently. So this could be the last post.

European Safari Part 6

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We arrived in the land of the cabbage cocktail and had all day (first of three) in Saint Petersburg. What an incredible place. Concrete blocks of flats with crumbling facades interspersed with magnificent palaces (also some with crumbling facades with literally piles of shattered masonry on the footpath), incredible museums and gold onion topped cathedrals. Re the crumbling facades, this place was under siege by the Germans in WWII for over 2 years so there’s a massive amount of restoration work still being done and they’ve done a brilliant job so far. Also there’re more statues than you can poke a stick at. It’s a bit like Paris in a lot of respects with Russian service staff about as humourless as your average French waiter. Three days here so another dose of culture tomorrow (today) then again on Monday.

Had our first Russian meal at lunchtime which started with a tot of ice cold vodka (very civilised), a bit of salmon caviar (so it was imitation caviar in fact) and a glass of anti-freeze champagne. The floor show was quite something. The establishment was a theatre restaurant so we had two musicians, one playing a triangular 3 string guitar type thing and the other playing a piano accordion without the piano bit. It had buttons on both ends. The guitarist could have got a gig with any thrash metal outfit. His hand speed had to be seen to be believed. Slash reckons he can play fast (he said it in his autobiography). He’d be pushed to keep up with this bloke. I was seriously impressed.

As the Japanese eat sashimi, the Koreans eat kimchi and the Indians eat curry, so apparently the Russians eat beetroot soup or borsch as it’s called and we were duly served it. We then had beef stroganoff naturally (chicken stroganoff on day two). Apparently stroganoff was invented by Count Stroganoff’s chef on account of the boss running out of teeth and not being able to handle steak.
We visited two palaces on day one and also a fort in which there is a cathedral where all the Tzars are buried including what they could retrieve from various mine shafts of the last lot, the Romanovs (the computer just changed that to “aroma nobs” for some reason). Visited yet another palace on day two being the one where Rasputin was murdered plus a spectacular church (The Church on the Spilled Blood) built by Alexander II’s son on the exact spot where the old man was blown up by anarchists and bled to death. We also did a boat cruise which is always a good way to see somewhere especially somewhere with over 300km of waterways.
The opulence and frankly, sickening extravagance of the nobility in the 18th and 19th centuries (the child bride, she who will never go camping, thought it perfectly acceptable) gives you some idea why the peasantry eventually got the hump in 1917. Ultimately it was just one mob of nobility being replaced by another set of self proclaimed nobility, the difference being that the second lot didn’t have the fashion sense of the first although I understand Raisa Gorbachev made Mikhail’s Kremlin issue credit card smoke whenever they got anywhere where the shops stocked more than turnips.
We saw a statue of Voltaire in the Hermitage Museum – Catherine the Great’s winter palace in Saint Petersburg and now a museum that rivals the Louvre. Catherine bought all of Voltaire’s books, letters and other writings when he died. It’s kind of ironic that his complete works are here and he’s the bloke who said “I may not like what you say but will defend to the death your right to say it” (or something similar). Hardly the motto of the communists (or the erstwhile nobility) and not something Vlad subscribes to either I’ll wager. That reminds me of another Estonian Russian joke. Apparently speech was as free in the Soviet Union as it was in the USA. In the USA you could stand in front of the White House and shout “Down with Reagan”. Similarly you could stand in front of the Kremlin and shout “Down with Reagan” as well.

Speaking of Vlad, he figures prominently on souvenir shop t-shirts, in a very positive way as action-man in various poses. Maybe it’s the locals taking the piss but I don’t think so unless the country that gave us the gulag is more nuanced than we think. I’m only aware of one t-shirt “celebrating” an Aus PM. It says “F….k Tony Abbott” and was produced by a journalist for The Age newspaper in Melbourne. Incidentally, The Age is known locally as Pravda on the Yarra so it stands to reason doesn’t it.

We saw quite a few wedding parties on the first two days. There are so many great places for photos so the bridal parties were out in force. I have to say, as a confirmed male chauvinist pig (do femonazis still say that?), Russian girls are extremely attractive (think female Russian tennis players) whereas the blokes all seem to be pasty faced petrol pump attendants. Talk about punching above their weight. All of them.
Question – why do Americans abroad think we are even remotely interested in what they have to say? We are in the bar part of the restaurant at the back of the ship and are surrounded by shouting Yanks. STFU readily springs to mind. It is possible to converse and laugh without taking everyone in the post code into your confidence. The CB thinks I’m getting grumpy in my old age. I’m not. My tolerance for stupidity is just reducing. The people on the next table must be on party drugs.

 

European Safari Part 5

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It’s our one full day at sea today so we slept in, missed breakfast and headed to the bar at 11.30am ostensibly to “eat lunch”. Halfway between Gdansk and Tallinn, the sea is like a millpond and the sun is shining. If there are better conditions in which to sample the various beers on offer, I haven’t experienced them.

The daughter and son in law will be “enjoying” the WWE wrestling in Brisbane as I write this while we wrestle with the various cruise options next time round. Istanbul to Rome is winning by a half nelson and double overhead hammer lock with combined nipple twist at the moment. Hope fight night was worth it kids. Daughter bought son in law a “meet and greet” package for his birthday so he gets to meet his wrestling heroes. These guys wouldn’t have lasted a minute with the likes of Haystacks Calhoun, Killer Karl Cox and Cyclone Negro. Oh for the days of politically incorrect, good clean (apart from those bastards Skull Murphy and Brute Bernard) sporting fun.
Now in Tallinn. The first thing I noticed when stepping out into the morning air was a number of spires and a big chimney. The second thing was graffiti. It’s all over a large concrete structure which could be a remnant of the communist past so may be understandable to an extent. Then again it may reflect that this place has its fair share of morons just like we do. As we only have 36 minutes of free internet time left, I’ll probably never know.

Later that same day………

Having now done our tour of medieval Tallinn, heard the depth of feeling towards the Soviet system and seen the absence of graffiti in town I can only assume the graffiti on the low concrete bunker like structure near our ship is some form of protest. They really detest what the Soviets did here and have an endless supply of Russian jokes – Brezhnev began his speech at the opening of the 1980 Moscow Olympics by saying Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh before someone pointed out he was reading the Olympic Rings. Then his speech went for 45 minutes and was only supposed to go for 15. When he complained, the speechwriter said he’d given him 3 copies. And on it went. They used to joke people needed a visa to go to the beach in case they tried to swim the 60km to Finland.
Russian jets still buzz the place (12 times last week apparently) so Estonia couldn’t wait to join NATO. Putin has really got them worried by saying the worst thing that happened in the 20th century was the collapse of the Soviet Union; even worse than WW1 and WW2 apparently. Also he invaded Ukraine ostensibly to protect the local Russian population. The Russians in Estonia have told him they don’t want his protection thanks very much.
Humour isn’t just directed at the Russians but also at themselves. They see themselves as very self-conscious and shy (the tour guide certainly wasn’t – she had some ripper husband jokes, none of which I can remember). They say if an Estonian is an extrovert he’ll talk to your shoes. If he’s an introvert he’ll talk to his own shoes. Not a knee slapping rib tickler, I know, but they’ve got some catching up to do. Being a stand-up comedian in this part of the world (Scandinavia, Russia, the Baltic States and Germany) must be the toughest gig in show business.
Back to Tallinn. It’s a fabulous place and well worth a visit. The old town has bits that are 1000 years old. They have the oldest continuously operating pharmacy (1422??) and school (forget the date but it had a 14 in front I think) in Europe. We’d heard from a number of people who’ve been here that it was well worth it and they were not wrong.

It’s pretty cheap here also although since joining the EU and switching to the Euro, the economy has gone a bit Greek but they’re certainly not in that league yet and they’re doing better than Italy, Spain, Portugal and the other semi-basket cases in Europe. The point is, it’s quite a popular spot although the Russians have scared away some of the cruise boats. I have heard that it’s popular for buck’s parties. We did see one “Burlesque” venue and one massage parlour (no reference to “happy endings” though). So it looks pretty tame although the action could be taking place in the new part of town which we didn’t visit. In the Soviet era two things were absolutely taboo – religion and sex. You can imagine young couples sneaking off to the dark corners of a building that used to be called a church for a surreptitious prayer.

One more Russian joke. During the Soviet era you got to tell jokes three times. First to your friend, then to your KGB interrogator and then to your cell mate.

We have to fill in immigration forms tomorrow for Russia. On our European cruises we’ve visited Italy, Slovenia, Croatia, Greece, Turkey, the UK, the Channel Islands, France, Spain, Portugal, Denmark, Germany, Poland and Estonia and this is the only time we’ve had to do this. Back in the day (when I worked full time for a living) we used to joke that the countries you least wanted to visit were the ones which made it the most difficult to get into. In my case that was India (it very much grew on me over time), Pakistan and Iran – at one point my title was Marketing Manager – Fundamentalist Islamic Republics. Anyway, we are very much looking forward to Saint Petersburg no matter how difficult Vlad and his hoods make it.

Just heard an announcement from the bridge for the crew. Some exercise or other. Anyway, the announcement was “echo echo echo…….echo echo echo……echo echo echo”. As the child bride pointed out, if you say “echo” more than once, it is. In the explanation of the above, the captain advised the pilot for Saint Petersburg would board the vessel at “stupid o’clock” which is apparently a nautical term for 4.30am. I’ll need to check this with our son the maritime expert

.
Goodbye Tallinn. We look forward to returning.

PS
Finally, we moved from the side of the boat to the open-air bar at the back to wave goodbye to Tallinn. Having had a few wines I needed to visit the convenience. It is such a bright, bright, bright sunshiny day (apologies Jimmy Cliff) that by the time I got to where I know the conveniences are, my eyes hadn’t adjusted and I couldn’t make out the little male/female figures stuck on the doors. I took a chance and got it right. On this ship that could have been seriously ugly.

European Safari Part 4

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We had a day in Berlin on Monday. Unfortunately the thing that stood out for me was that there is nowhere in the 3 hour drive between Wismar (where the boat parked) and Berlin, where you cannot see those bloody wind turbines. They are everywhere and have totally destroyed the German countryside. The day of reckoning approaches and sense will prevail, climate Nazis.
If you want to see the definition of the old and the new this is the place. It got hammered during the war so there are occasional old bits surrounded by lots of new bits. The Reichstag is magnificent but how it survived the war is hard to believe. Very old buildings are surrounded by recent buildings where architects have been given free reign. As you can imagine whole neighbourhoods were levelled in the war but they have done a great job rebuilding (they are Germans after all) . As you would expect, nothing funny happened in Germany. It’s not allowed.
Bornholm (Tuesday) is a sleepy island which is part of Denmark although it’s closer to Sweden. The German occupiers wanted to surrender to the Brits in WWII but the Brits had more important things to consider. Then the Russians arrived and bombed it for 2 days to convince them the frivolity of communism was the way to go. They took over then left after a year when even they got bored. Obviously it wasn’t considered a strategic piece of the Soviet Empire. And the comedy club was shit. So the Danes had their empire back – Denmark, Greenland and…..Bornholm.

Gdansk – what a brilliant place. It’s where World War II started when a German battleship went up the river and took out the armoury to commence hostilities. After Czechoslovakia and Austria gave up without a fight the plucky Poles resisted and the war started here with that engagement. Fortunately the Nazis were pretty lenient on building destruction (much less so when it came to people unfortunately) so the vast majority of Gdansk survived the war until the Russians arrived in 1945 when they destroyed 90% of the city. What can you say? Who’d want to look at a building from the Renaissance when you can look at a communist era concrete block of flats?
Great beer and some of the women here have the longest legs I have ever seen. High jump has to be the national sport. And if you want to discuss this topic further see me after class.
Met up with an Aussie bloke and his Chinese wife. His name is……if you guessed Bruce take your box and go to the front of the class. And Bruce comes from Sydney but lived in Kingaroy for some years so he and the child bride had some note comparing to do.
Back on the boat (Wednesday I think) having a burger and wine (mocktail for the CB) at the pool bar. One of the features of these cruises is that the general demographic is one that, how shall I put this, we aspire to in future years, as in, I hope to live that long. I hope I’m able to hobble around cobblestones with a walking stick and slow everyone else down when I’m 75. Anyway on this one there are some youngsters, even younger than us! And then there are those trying to cling to youngness. I said to the CB just now “look over your right shoulder and spot the boob job”. Not difficult to spot the woman with the softballs glued to her chest. I spotted them immediately they were made available for public display but I am very observant and it was just lucky that I happened to be looking in that direction.
There’s even a “Baby on Board” and we have one of those signs you see in cars stuck to the back of the boat.
There’s a lot of Aussies on this cruise unlike the previous ones. We were talking to one of the medical staff who was on cat herding duty (there’s a local tour guide and a ship person on each land tour to make sure no one gets lost or dies) for this morning’s Gdansk tour and she said they like the Aussies because we are so easy going. She is South African so I guess there’s a bit of synergy there. Some Dutch bloke (the accent is rather distinctive) was complaining bitterly about the paucity of juice glasses and coffee (it was being filled up) this morning. He can look forward to the waiters spitting on his food. Never forget, waiters and flight attendants are the most powerful people in the world.

We had to move away from the pool this afternoon because of the sun and because there is only so much naked flesh one can take. Softballs is still there but this is most definitely not a pool party in Kuta so there are no chicky babes wearing dental floss which is unfortunate for all of the young single men who might be on this cruise (none I think) but I’m not in the least bit interested – why would I be (this question is rhetorical in the extreme which means it’s a lie)? Softballs just left. Interesting contrast. It’s unfortunate if you’ve spent all that money on surgery which has no impact when you are standing up but makes you look like a lighthouse on the rare occasions that you are lying down in public.
And just to finish, those of you of a political bent may remember Paul Keating saying not to get between a state premier and a bucket of money. Well even though these cruises have pretty flexible meal times and it’s generally quite civilised, it has become obvious that you should not get between a pensioner and a free feed (sorry Mum & Dad). It can be carnage even though this is a rather upmarket cruise ship and not the Narangba Tavern.
Our one day at sea tomorrow is ahead of Tallinn so a sleep in tomorrow but we have a concert tonight featuring Chopin, Grieg and others (they are the only two I know). Not the actual Chopin and Grieg as they are dead obviously. But you knew that. Just got back. Brilliant pianist and violinist.

Till next time.

 

European Safari Part 3

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So that was Ireland – pubs, greenery, spectacular scenery and a propensity to exaggerate – on the drive over from Limerick to Dublin this morning there was a brown (tourist) sign pointing to “Barack Obama’s Ancestral Home”. Someone should tell the tourist board there’s no apostrophe after the “O” in Obama. And the old 6 degrees of separation lark is hardly a claim to fame.

Copenhagen is flat and expensive which is a bit disappointing. You’d think there’d be room for some compensation in the prices to make-up for the absence of relief. Luckily what they lose in hills they gain in water. And it’s no wonder prices are high if salaries are amongst the highest in the world which they brag about. Basic economics really. And taxis are more expensive than London although they did make us feel like we were in Brisbane. The two taxis we took were both piloted by Indians.
While on the subject of cars, there are not many – another reason taxis are so dear. They don’t make their own and the import tax is 180%. But they have more bicycles than people. This is all part of the Danish Government’s cunning plan to make Denmark carbon neutral by 2019. They mean carbon dioxide neutral of course otherwise they would have to kill half the flora and fauna including the people. What part of us (and all other living things) isn’t water and a minuscule amount of minerals is made up of organic compounds which are all various combinations of carbon, oxygen and hydrogen. Governments everywhere blah blah blah……anyway, you know the rest. There may be a lack of cars but there is a plethora of boats. Not sure whether that’s factored into the carbon equation.

We did the sights from land and sea but very superficially it has to be said due to a lack of time. We saw the Little Mermaid of Hans Christian Anderson fame from every angle. It’s up there with the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa – somewhat disappointing in that it’s smaller than you’d think. They do however have a copy of Michelangelo’s David in bronze and notwithstanding the wedding tackle, it’s as imposing as the original.

It’s difficult to pigeon hole Denmark and the Danes. On the one hand they are up there with the wacky Swedes when it comes to sense of humour and their lack of imagination is epitomised by the fact that every king they have ever had has been called Christian but they did invent Lego. And they are quite proud of the fact that they produce more rubber tyres than anywhere else in the world, but only for Lego cars so the amount of rubber they use would be measured by the wheelbarrow.

Got on the boat yesterday afternoon. Went to our favourite bar – The Looking Glass – after dinner. We couldn’t go too early because there was a meeting there of all the single people on the cruise followed by a meeting of the lesbians, gays, bi-sexuals and transgenders (or LGBT’s in the vernacular) – I’m not kidding. Anyone who attended both meetings would have to be quids in you’d think. And I didn’t fall backwards off my seat like last time. Those who remember my blog entry Following the Wine Traders Part 1 will know what I’m talking about.

This morning, at breakfast a lady approached us and asked if we were Australian. It wasn’t because she heard us talking, it was because her husband saw us eating and remarked on the fact that we were both using our knives and forks properly. Had we been shovelling the food down they’d have tagged us for another nationality who I don’t intend to embarrass here. How’s that for a bit of pop sociology? I must say that my powers of observation don’t extend to that level of detail but the child bride did remark on the fact that a teenage girl in one of our Irish B&B’s was using her cutlery like daggers. She was probably crap at grammar and spelling as well.

Travemunde and Lubeck in Germany today. Lubeck used to be confined to an island back in the Middle Ages. There were 1800 people on the island then and 180 breweries. It must have been settled originally by the Irish. Back then the water was so crap (literally) you had to drink beer instead so the government paid for 3 litres per person per day. And in typically Teutonic organised fashion, for babies the beer had 0.5% alcohol and increased by 0.5% per year of age until it reached 16% – called Captain’s Beer. Now there is only one brewery left. Its original brick basement was constructed in 1225 and we had a beer tasting down there – superb stuff as you would expect since they’ve had a bit of practice.

Incidentally, there’s a big old disused brewery in Copenhagen which is pre, pre Carlsberg. One of the King Christians used to give his naval personnel 10 litres of product per day. No wonder the Danish navy’s halcyon days went out with the Vikings.

Back to Germany and whereas Ireland has its pubs and Denmark has its bicycles, Germany has its wind turbines. Seriously, these bird mincers are everywhere, onshore and off. I’m sitting in one of the bars on the ship and I can see dozens of them. I hate them with the same intensity I used to reserve for wheeled luggage.

I was going to sign off now but a rather large woman on the comfy chair next to the CB just farted as she hauled herself up. So I’ll close with that.

 

Addendum to Following the Wine Traders

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Well, this will be the last journal entry for this trip before we fly home tomorrow. We’re now in London again and have just had our first pub lunch. We were here for 3 days 3 weeks ago but it was the 3 days leading up to the friendly between England and Scotland at Wembley. The pubs were full of blokes in skirts speaking a foreign language and Trafalgar Square was turned into a massive beer garden so actually getting through the door of a pub during those three days was somewhat problematic. Anyway, we cracked it today.

 


 Just had a nice relaxing three days in Switzerland, starting in Zurich and then 2 days in Geneva. I have never seen so much conspicuous wealth as in that place. Plenty of Rolls Royces and Ferraris with various Arabic (the most common language we heard while there) number plates. In Hong Kong, if you close your eyes and step out into the road you’ll either be hit by a Rolls Royce or by a taxi. Here it would be somewhat similar except for the taxis.

 


 The train trip from Zurich to Geneva was nice. I didn’t realise that all of the open spaces in Switzerland have been mowed. The whole place looks like a park. And the train trip reinforced something I have come to firmly believe since being here. For the best part of 3 hours, all the way from Zurich to Geneva, two young women across the aisle from us talked….and talked….and talked. In fact they did not shut their yaps for more than 5 seconds the whole way. It reminded me of when we were here 3 weeks ago and were queuing for the London Dungeons. We had to queue for about 40 minutes and two teenage girls behind us did not shut up for one second of that time. Two blokes can sit in quiet contemplation for hours without feeling the urgent need to communicate other than telepathically. Two or more women can’t….at all….ever. But if the word “like” was excised from the English language, 30 million women under the age of 30 would be immediately struck dumb. Do us all (as in us blokes) a favour girls and just STFU occasionally.

 


 It’s been a fantastic three weeks with only one thing left to do before we head home tomorrow. We are having dinner tonight with a good friend and her partner. She works for the same company I work for and he is Welsh so they’ve been over here frightening his relatives in the villages.

It just remains now to get home and see if the cats have eaten each other. We didn’t leave them to their own devices – they are being supervised so, you know, ignore the eating each other bit.

Following the Wine Traders – Part 4

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Just about to leave Seville for Madrid then Zurich tonight. Got off the boat yesterday morning and headed into town to a hotel for an extra day here.

Seville is a magnificent city with all of the monuments you expect from an old city. It also has some relatively new ones including all of the pavilions built for the 1929 and 1992 World Expos. The 1929 Spanish Pavilion is incredible. For a start it’s huge but the attention to detail has to be seen to be believed but then that’s a fairly common trait from Roman times through the Dark and Middle Ages and the Renaissance right up to a few years ago when we were introduced to the joys of graffiti and “just in time” buildings (building unions notwithstanding) with lots of glass and straight lines. Gone are the days when an artisan spent most of his life chiselling out a few statues on behalf of the church. Religions should go back to doing this instead of running political campaigns. By now you will have realised that I tend to stray into these philosophical and political discussions when there is not a lot else to report.

The Spanish Pavilion has been used in 52 movies including Lawrence of Arabia and, believe it or not, the 5th Star Wars movie. It was also used for the old Clint Eastwood / Sergio Leone spaghetti westerns which were filmed in Spain because there is a desert nearby – in the middle of Spain.

One interesting thing I almost forgot is that we passed through a lock on the river outside Seville. Was a bit of a damp squib actually because the river levels were almost the same either side. I didn’t notice any change but someone told me it was about a foot. We then turned around as the river narrowed and reversed up the river to the dock. That was interesting. I guess it’s easier to drive straight out with a full load.

Just before the lock we passed through a lot of rice fields which were being crop dusted by a gang of John Belushi’s it seemed. How they didn’t prang into each other is beyond me. Maybe they do, they just didn’t do it while we were trundling past. One of these clowns actually buzzed the ship. I was sitting on our balcony and this plane was coming straight at me. We were very close to the back and this plane went past us level with me and metres from the back of the boat. And he dipped his wings a couple of times as he went past. In Australia they’d have had the airforce after him (do we still have one or did Rudd sell it?). In Spain – mañana.

Sorry for the stream of consciousness this post has become but I keep thinking of things.
We are in the cruise company club and they had a club cocktail party a few nights ago which was basically an advertising opportunity. They presented an award to the most frequent cruisers – two blokes who have done 38 cruises and were two of the 100 or so (out of about 600 total) who stayed on the boat for the next leg to Rome. Considering the line has only been around since 2001, that’s pretty impressive. One of them must have invented something for them to have the time and money to do that.

That’s the end of our Southampton/Seville journey. More countries and things crossed off the bucket list with many more still to go and a determination to not let other things stand in the way. I’ll regale you with tales of later cruises….later.

Cheers

Following the Wine Traders – Part 3

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Well, we’ve just left Lisbon and are on our way to the last stop (Seville) of this cruise. We did an organised tour yesterday then walked up to the Castle of St George this morning. There is a Portuguese version of this name which I will get wrong if I try to write it – I could go back to the room and get a brochure but I’m writing this in a bar so you get the English version. The castle like most of them round the world, is on a hill and it’s not a small or gently sloping hill so we certainly got our exercise today. And the streets can be as narrow as one person – easy to defend but rubbish in an earthquake and they had the mother of all earthquakes in 1755 which destroyed two thirds of the city and killed 60000 people. Anyway, the castle was well worth the visit. Been there since the mid 11th century although archaeologists have found evidence on the site of people from the Iron Age – 700 BC.

Last night was White Night, a typical cruisey thing – everyone wears something white (lucky I bought that t-shirt in St Jean de Luz) and eventually gets whipped into an all singing, all dancing frenzy by the manic cruise director. It wasn’t bad actually in a, how shall I put this, “gay” sort of way. Amazing what you’ll do with a skin-full so there we were doing all the arm movements for YMCA and I Will Survive and singing along to Ricky Martin songs (I was miming – don’t know any Ricky Martin songs apart from “Doing the something something”…promise). Would have preferred to be on the stage than in front of it. They got together all of the musicians who perform in various parts of the ship and all of the singers and went for it and I have to say they were very good – great musicians and great singers. So even though I would have preferred to be on the stage, I wouldn’t have qualified.

I have to tell you about Captain Johannes (not really Captain Stubbing for all of you under the age of 40). He is Norwegian. We’ve all heard of the wacky Swedes and their riotous sense of humour. Well if this guy is representative of their culture, the Norwegian police force must be run by the Keystone Cops, Billy Connolly is the Minister for Culture and making whoopee cushions is the Norwegian version of Ikea. When we left port today he came on the intercom and said “Good afternoon everybody, this is your designated driver here. As we leave, the ship will be under the control of –insert female name because I forgot – our apprentice officer. It’s her first time to do this so we have painted a large red L on the back of the ship to warn other ships in the area”. And then 20 minutes later when we had to stop and flush all of the jelly fish out of the cooling water intakes (to stop the engines overheating) he came on and said, “- insert female name because I forgot – has asked me to tell you it wasn’t her fault that we had to stop”.

And now I can’t get that bloody Ricky Martin song out of my head.

Until the next instalment,