Germany

Rambling River Run Repeat #9

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We’ve been in Germany for a few days now and I was feeling uneasy. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Was there a Zulu horde just over the next hill, shadowing our every move or were we a modern version of the Roman legions about to be vanquished in the Teutoberg Forest. It was quiet…too quiet. Then there it was. Not welcome or reassuring in the least but disdainfully expected. The wump, wump, wump of thousands of windmills. If they could move like so many triffids Custer’s Last Stand would have been like a paper cut. But with all of the trouble in the Middle East, a ready replacement for fossil fuels has to be a good thing, right? Apart from the oil you have to put in them to keep them running. And you can’t strap one to the roof of your tractor. Enough of that.

There’s a part of Barvaria called Franconia which sounds like a cross between France and some medieval Disneyworld and while it’s people aren’t a Germanic equivalent of your average French waiter they are the opposite of those occupying the happiest place on earth. The locals say that if a Franconian is smiling it’s because they’re drunk which I guess is a good thing because if drunks are required, you want happy ones. Sober Franconians on the other hand, aren’t the type of people you invite to a party (unless they get drunk on the way). “It could be worse” is about the most enthusiastic complement you will lever out of a Franc or Frances apparently. The legendary German sense of humour must have had its origins here.

In the past, property in this part of the world was worth more if it was covered, at least to some extent, with grape vines. I guess there also had to be someone nearby with the wherewithal to turn their fruit into booze (otherwise what is the point) but that doesn’t appear to have been part of the contract. Anyway, there are grape vines up and down the Rhine and Main Rivers’ valleys with up being the operative word. Building terraces or heaven forebid, growing on flat land is for pikers. You have to assume there were property scams a-plenty judging by some of the vineyard locations. How you can successfully manage a block of land which would be more accessible if it was on the side of an Egyptian Pyramid, is beyond my comprehension.

I started writing this episode a few days ago. We’re now in Amsterdam, in the departure lounge of our boat, which for the last three weeks was the bar. We’re parked next to a large blue cruise liner which is currently home to 1000 refugees. When we got off our boat yesterday to do a canal cruise and look at tulips which are now blooming, we were told to keep our belongings close and beware of pickpockets. I draw no link between the two.

Adieu until the next adventure, or unless I think of something else to write about in the meantime.

Rambling River Run Repeat #8

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I thought of something to write so disregard #7. But before we get onto Germany, a bit more on Austria. You my dear readers, know this isn’t a travelogue where you can read about what best sights to see or hotels to stay in. I’ll leave that to travel agents. We’ll talk about other stuff here.

We’ve recently been to Salzburg (not to be confused with Strasbourg as I frequently do) and if you didn’t know, Salzburg is famous for Mozart and The Sound of Music. They also gave us yodelling, according to them – not something I would mention in polite company. Had they also gifted the world rap music, their work would have been complete.

The guides on this trip have been tremendous and our guide in Salzburg was no exception. At every stop on the walking tour, there was a Sound of Music link…and she’s a singer so it was like being guided by  a South African (for South African she is) Julie Andrews. We got the whole sing-song repertoire. But at the end she became a (metaphorical) horse. Before you affect offence by proxy, I mean, like a working horse, as soon as we turned for home the pace accelerated markedly, much to the chagrin of the athletically challenged in our group. An international incident was avoided by a tactical change-up. I’ve never understood why “change-up” means “slow-down” when it should mean “speed up”.

When it comes to attitude to table service, the Eastern Europeans love us, the Austrians are indifferent and the Germans have turned into the French. The EU has a lot to answer for in the overall scheme of things but this development is ridiculous. We’ve all encountered the French waiter of legend but how did this become a German thing? Are the French infiltrating and blaming Germany for some implied slight? Surely the French can’t blame the Germans (everyone else can – Angela Merkel specifically) for cultural assisted suicide because France was already Algeria with attitude when the migrant tsunami smashed through non-existent borders (Poland and Hungary notwithstanding). But I digress (as usual), as this has only a tenuous link to table service..

To further flog this digression, we have just been to Nuremberg and there’s a very nice statue there surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The fence had a ring built into it a few hundred years ago and if inclined you can spin the ring and it will grant you magical fertility powers. Or something. Anyway, we saw this about eight years ago and back then it was in an easily accessible square. It wasn’t in a square protected by freedom bollards, placed to prevent people of irrelevant ethnicity accidentally ploughing their vehicles into crowds of unsuspecting people, usually around Christmas time. But it is now. Something has irrevocably changed so you can understand why your average German service provider might be somewhat pissed and not in any mood to indulge tone-deaf foreigners like us when they’ve got plenty of their own to deal with.

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.