I thought maybe I should round this off with a few words about the country so many people come to visit as tourists. All this time I'm thinking Europe is so exotic and amazing, and then I remember tourism is our main industry, and it's pretty easy to see why...
Flights: Let me just say that Air New Zealand staff ROCK with casual laid back kiwi friendliness that you completely don't realise you missed until you are getting on your flight home.
It's a bit of a shock to the system hearing shockingly fast and mumbled announcements tho, in a language that only some would recognise as English. Even I couldn't catch most of what was said.
My personal highlight was hearing a flight attendant man ask a passenger "do you want chups?" just like in the infamous beach whale video! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdVHZwI8pcA
Anyway, they moved me from the Japan-school-trip end of the plane to a row at the front where I got 3 seats to myself and even some sleep. Woot
Day hotel at Tokyo Narita Airport: best 4 hours sleep I ever paid for! SO worth it.
View out window over New Zealand: Spectacular of course! Where else can you can snowy volcanic mountains right next to beach after beach after beach, rolling hills, desert, farmland and cities and blue skies and thousands of kms of native bush, all viewable in one glance out your airplane window?? You could even see the sheep and the boats.
Arrival at Auckland airport: Do you know you can get a breakfast combo in NZ for equivalent of 3 Euros??? INSANE MADNESS. NZ is SO cheap.
Greeting party: 2 of my favourite men. They didn't let me carry my bags, not even my cabin bag. Oh I love kiwis.
P-town mall: Gangsta fresh. Yeah it sucks that kiwis don't have that same international style, and in general don't care that much about presentation . But being able to wear your trackies ("Bum pants"), hoody and sneakers to the mall (or go barefoot. Or wear slippers) without getting any dirty looks has got to count for something!
(I know there are kiwi girls out there who will protest madly at this. Go to Europe.)
Bed: Oh yeah my bed is so freakin comfortable. Too bad jetlag has got me waking up at 3am every single morning, exhausted or not.. gah
Food: Ok so I've spent like every post so far describing amazing European food. But it ends here. Because my mum makes the best lemon meringue pie in the whole wide world and tomorrow we're having roast lamb with kumara and gravy and caramelised vegetables which we do almost every Sunday lunch and the rest of the world just can't compete. SORRY.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Tell everybody I'm on my way.... thanks Phil Collins
for providing the soundtrack to my post!
Ok, so I was peeeeeved at 5am this morning, and not everything in the last 2 posts makes sense... and its very longwinded... probably quite boring too.... erm. I will try reconcile myself here.
It's been 2 months since I've been in NZ and I've got the classic "It was so long and yet so short" thing going on which I won't bore you with.
What I have to say is this:
- Europe is pretty rad. We are tight like this.
- I know I'm going to be frustrated with NZ fashion and lack of baked goods when I get back! Probably sulk for a few months before I set foot in Glassons...
- Everything in this trip has fallen into place perfectly. I've been well looked after and had plenty of angels help me out. In the words of my wise friend Rashi, "everyone can be an angel to somebody". Chur Rashi! And sometimes I think there's more to it also.
- It's all about the people. Including NZ people. So I'm ready to go back and have some cakey reunions. YAY
-When I first arrived in Europe I was scared to sit in the wrong seat in the train or to order food or eat alone at restaurants. I probably walked around like a lost scared little sheep. I didn't like hanging out by myself because it was scary. I was worried I'd get hit by trams when crossing the roads. I let people push in the queue in front of me and didn't know how to use the dont-mess-with-me European look or the I'm-not-foreign strut. I guess I must have changed because all I can say to that now is: FUNNY
- This trip wasnt a standard tourist trip. I got to do tonnes of random extra stuff. It was completely worth it. My advice would be don't cave to the pressure to do and see certain things. If you are an explorer at heart, you will find other things that interest you and get different memories than everyone else.
- I kinda like writing. What am I gonna write now?
(on that note, what am I gonna DO now? Anyone want to order some chocolates...?)
Ok, so I was peeeeeved at 5am this morning, and not everything in the last 2 posts makes sense... and its very longwinded... probably quite boring too.... erm. I will try reconcile myself here.
It's been 2 months since I've been in NZ and I've got the classic "It was so long and yet so short" thing going on which I won't bore you with.
What I have to say is this:
- Europe is pretty rad. We are tight like this.
- I know I'm going to be frustrated with NZ fashion and lack of baked goods when I get back! Probably sulk for a few months before I set foot in Glassons...
- Everything in this trip has fallen into place perfectly. I've been well looked after and had plenty of angels help me out. In the words of my wise friend Rashi, "everyone can be an angel to somebody". Chur Rashi! And sometimes I think there's more to it also.
- It's all about the people. Including NZ people. So I'm ready to go back and have some cakey reunions. YAY
-When I first arrived in Europe I was scared to sit in the wrong seat in the train or to order food or eat alone at restaurants. I probably walked around like a lost scared little sheep. I didn't like hanging out by myself because it was scary. I was worried I'd get hit by trams when crossing the roads. I let people push in the queue in front of me and didn't know how to use the dont-mess-with-me European look or the I'm-not-foreign strut. I guess I must have changed because all I can say to that now is: FUNNY
- This trip wasnt a standard tourist trip. I got to do tonnes of random extra stuff. It was completely worth it. My advice would be don't cave to the pressure to do and see certain things. If you are an explorer at heart, you will find other things that interest you and get different memories than everyone else.
- I kinda like writing. What am I gonna write now?
(on that note, what am I gonna DO now? Anyone want to order some chocolates...?)
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Quality Airport Hotel Dan in Copenhagen
This is not ok!
It's 5.30am and the stupid hotel gave me a wakeup call including phone AND blaring TV over my bed at 5am! I specifically told them yesterday that I'm leaving not until midday.
I came here to sleep because I'm exhausted and had migrain yesterday and then starting from 3pm today im travelling for the next 40 or more hours.
I'm one of those people who cant get back to sleep. I just wanted one night with 8 hours sleep graaaaa
I called the reception and complained (just now) and explained that I never wanted a wake up call. The guy said "Your group leader asked for it."
Me: What group leader.
Him: Hold on a sec. OH. Ok. I see. So we've done a mixup and we changed your room.
Me: Uh...........?
Him: I'm terribly sorry about that.
I explained I have 40 hours of flying ahead and that I cant get back to sleep now. He just said "Sorry" and "Sorry about that" followed by "I'm terribly sorry about that" and then hung up.
What am I supposed to do?
What a stupid ripoff hotel! And it turns out I have to pay NZ$30 for breakfast that I thought was included!
Oh and my room is kinda dirty. So much for getting what you pay for. What crap.
It's Quality Airport Hotel Dan by the way.
IM SO TIRED and from this point in time right now I wont be back in NZ for exactly FIFTY FOUR hours
:(
It's 5.30am and the stupid hotel gave me a wakeup call including phone AND blaring TV over my bed at 5am! I specifically told them yesterday that I'm leaving not until midday.
I came here to sleep because I'm exhausted and had migrain yesterday and then starting from 3pm today im travelling for the next 40 or more hours.
I'm one of those people who cant get back to sleep. I just wanted one night with 8 hours sleep graaaaa
I called the reception and complained (just now) and explained that I never wanted a wake up call. The guy said "Your group leader asked for it."
Me: What group leader.
Him: Hold on a sec. OH. Ok. I see. So we've done a mixup and we changed your room.
Me: Uh...........?
Him: I'm terribly sorry about that.
I explained I have 40 hours of flying ahead and that I cant get back to sleep now. He just said "Sorry" and "Sorry about that" followed by "I'm terribly sorry about that" and then hung up.
What am I supposed to do?
What a stupid ripoff hotel! And it turns out I have to pay NZ$30 for breakfast that I thought was included!
Oh and my room is kinda dirty. So much for getting what you pay for. What crap.
It's Quality Airport Hotel Dan by the way.
IM SO TIRED and from this point in time right now I wont be back in NZ for exactly FIFTY FOUR hours
:(
Swedish weddings are crazy
I'm tired. I'm so tired I nearly fell asleep every few seconds on the train even with this big dude next to me breathing so loudly that it sounded like he was snoring and I could hear it through my iPod, blocked out only by the incessant swedish announcements.
I'm so tired it took me until 5pm to realise I am wearing the same underwear as yesterday and havent got changed yet. I wonder if I brushed my teeth this morning? This afternoon? Will I ever find out?
This morning I went downstairs (outside through the rain and wind) in my pyjamas to open my suitcase, forgot what I was opening it for, removed the padlock and took it with me up to my bedroom, where I may or may not have gone back to bed. I still don't know why I did that.
I even gave an un-Amy-like comment to my unfriendly taxi driver when he announced he had no change. And then he went into the hotel to get change. And then I felt very relieved to go into the hotel too and notice that it's a big commerical chain hotel where no-one really cares about you and its a bit dirty because who cares it's an airport hotel and you'll only be here one night anyway, and you can go and eat all the food from the minibar and fill the bin with your trash because they don't know who you are and you don't know who they are, and if you want to complain about something you can do so in a loud voice and you will probably get some standard line that the receptionist reads off the computer screen and a token gift to bribe you such as maybe chocolate? Mm commercialism.
Anyway I was saying I'm tired.
Erg. Ok last time I was in Copenhagen..
Yeah so I went to Nassjo on the train and it's pretty nice being met at the train station I guess when you are used to travelling alone. Met by the lovely Karoline herself on the day before her wedding!
I stayed at their place the first night with the parents and sister and brother in law and Paraguayan parents (the Dad is a musician and singer of the classic Paraguayan variety and gave me a CD for my Dad since he used to live there - remind me when I get back... no idea where I put it...)
Evenings filled with eating and a kitchen overflowing with 3 languages and poor Karoline being the only one who can translate for everyone! Very very very nice and warm welcoming people and yes I love Swedish food what did you expect?
Went to shops with K inlcuding a homewares shop with Godis (Goodies/Lollies) down the back. Soon as I stepped in the door I knew what it was because it had the Swedish Godis smell. Oh did I mention I got some godis. Mm.
The next morning I had the extreme honour and priveledge of going with K to the hairdresser salon at 7.30am to get her hair and makeup done. The salon was closed for the day except for the girl doing Karoline. To my delight she said that since the place was otherwise empty I could use any equipment of products liked, including products from the whole wall of makeup. So that kept me happily occupied not to mention being sweden they had bowls of candy scattered all around the funky salon.
After that some quick jobs at the Pingstkyrkan in Nassjo where the reception was to be held, and then off to Eksjo for the ceremony. These are both small towns in Southern sweden not that different to Jonkoping I don't think.
I was lucky to meet a friend called Rebecca who visited NZ a few years back and we met because Karoline helped connect us, and here she was again, translating for me, woot! So I had a buddy.
It started to rain the day of the wedding and inspite of recent heatwaves can I point out it was a whopping 10 degrees celcius outside at 1.30pm before ceremony! Yikes. Raining cats and dogs.
Ceremony: Different to NZ. For a start the couple enter together - not just the bride with her dad. So the only person waiting at the front is the minister dude. I found that strange because I guess we usually think of it like the groom gets to see his wife-to-be for the first time when she's walking up the aisle, and thats what makes it special. But for the Swedish it's more like they are coming together to the church, with a choice they have made together to make a promise, and we happen to be there to witness it. So I guess it's just different ways of looking at it.
It was more formal than NZ weddings because instead of being MC-ed, we just followed through the programme in the booklet, which reminded me a bit of maybe like an Anglican church mass thing where they read through the things together etc? I don't know much about that tho so I'll shut up.
There was lots of singing and on the couple's way out of the church, a nice happy song came on and they even did a little dance on their way out which was one of my favourite moments. I think the song was like "Tell everybody I'm on my way" sung by some of the girls.
Then we waited outside under umbrellas and were given little sachets of rice to open and throw on the couple. Couldn't really get it past the umbrella's I'm afraid! And everyone lined up and went to personally hug both the bride and groom outside the church. Then mad scurries to cars to go immediately to the reception.
Reception was VERY different to NZ weddings. Without going into lots of detail, I guess I'd say that whereas the cermoney was more formal, the reception was much more INformal. Very lighthearted and happy and TONNES of games and skits and videos and speeches and tributes and plays and photos and singing (both performances and the whole group together - Swedes LOVE to sing) and more games and more singing and slideshows and intermissions.
AMAZING buffet food including a million kinds of salad (I love swedish salad because it's never based around lettuce like boring NZ salad) and endless whole smoked salmons and pies and cheeses etc. Every time a platter got half-empty to host's whipped it away and replaced it with a completely full one. So no matter when you approached the table it was piled high with food.
Followed by more games and quizzes from our little booklets and then dessert which was served indivually with a cup of raspberry-vanilla pannacotta for each person. Along with coffee galore and bowls of royal Swedish chocolates along each table.
More games songs slideshows etc and then:
EIGHT wedding cakes.
You heard right. Each and every one was a proper Swedish torte which we would call gateau. I think Strawberry cream flavour. Like Princess Cake but white. Alongside that were bowls and bowls of candy because of course this is Sweden, and Swedes are one of the few European countries that really do candy (as opposed to just chocolate).
By this stage it was 1.30am and we had been going non-stop 11.5 hours. I'm not kidding. They really love to celebrate and have fun. The bride and groom were called on stage to do various funny tasks and basically make fun of themselves and be gifted by the love and attention of all their friends who had put SO much energy into all this entertainment.
Some parts reminded me a little of a 21st actually. Like all the tributes and embarrasment and childhood stories etc.
I met some girls who I was to go stay at a place with that night - none of us knew what it actually was but after we found it, in the rain and dark, we discovered it was a very very old cottage with a toilet in another building at the end of the yard, and the only way to get to the bedroom is to go upstair outside. We were quite excited and scared and lots of squeals of discovery haha. Think of the house from Pyscho, with 3 girls, and a storm outside.
We huddled under blankets and in the morning I woke up with the most intense headache which I'm sorry to say was a Migrain.
All this time avoiding Migrains and I got hit on my second-to-last night in Europe! I popped 2 magic migrain pills but they didn't work and I was shaking with nausea and pain when the others left.
Anyways, long story short, it got better, I made it to the second half of the wedding lunch, enjoyed great leftovers, hung with these lovely people, and then got a train here to Copenhagen airport. Where I'm sleeping nearby tonight.
I dont know if this post made sense... I'm very tired.
I'm so tired it took me until 5pm to realise I am wearing the same underwear as yesterday and havent got changed yet. I wonder if I brushed my teeth this morning? This afternoon? Will I ever find out?
This morning I went downstairs (outside through the rain and wind) in my pyjamas to open my suitcase, forgot what I was opening it for, removed the padlock and took it with me up to my bedroom, where I may or may not have gone back to bed. I still don't know why I did that.
I even gave an un-Amy-like comment to my unfriendly taxi driver when he announced he had no change. And then he went into the hotel to get change. And then I felt very relieved to go into the hotel too and notice that it's a big commerical chain hotel where no-one really cares about you and its a bit dirty because who cares it's an airport hotel and you'll only be here one night anyway, and you can go and eat all the food from the minibar and fill the bin with your trash because they don't know who you are and you don't know who they are, and if you want to complain about something you can do so in a loud voice and you will probably get some standard line that the receptionist reads off the computer screen and a token gift to bribe you such as maybe chocolate? Mm commercialism.
Anyway I was saying I'm tired.
Erg. Ok last time I was in Copenhagen..
Yeah so I went to Nassjo on the train and it's pretty nice being met at the train station I guess when you are used to travelling alone. Met by the lovely Karoline herself on the day before her wedding!
I stayed at their place the first night with the parents and sister and brother in law and Paraguayan parents (the Dad is a musician and singer of the classic Paraguayan variety and gave me a CD for my Dad since he used to live there - remind me when I get back... no idea where I put it...)
Evenings filled with eating and a kitchen overflowing with 3 languages and poor Karoline being the only one who can translate for everyone! Very very very nice and warm welcoming people and yes I love Swedish food what did you expect?
Went to shops with K inlcuding a homewares shop with Godis (Goodies/Lollies) down the back. Soon as I stepped in the door I knew what it was because it had the Swedish Godis smell. Oh did I mention I got some godis. Mm.
The next morning I had the extreme honour and priveledge of going with K to the hairdresser salon at 7.30am to get her hair and makeup done. The salon was closed for the day except for the girl doing Karoline. To my delight she said that since the place was otherwise empty I could use any equipment of products liked, including products from the whole wall of makeup. So that kept me happily occupied not to mention being sweden they had bowls of candy scattered all around the funky salon.
After that some quick jobs at the Pingstkyrkan in Nassjo where the reception was to be held, and then off to Eksjo for the ceremony. These are both small towns in Southern sweden not that different to Jonkoping I don't think.
I was lucky to meet a friend called Rebecca who visited NZ a few years back and we met because Karoline helped connect us, and here she was again, translating for me, woot! So I had a buddy.
It started to rain the day of the wedding and inspite of recent heatwaves can I point out it was a whopping 10 degrees celcius outside at 1.30pm before ceremony! Yikes. Raining cats and dogs.
Ceremony: Different to NZ. For a start the couple enter together - not just the bride with her dad. So the only person waiting at the front is the minister dude. I found that strange because I guess we usually think of it like the groom gets to see his wife-to-be for the first time when she's walking up the aisle, and thats what makes it special. But for the Swedish it's more like they are coming together to the church, with a choice they have made together to make a promise, and we happen to be there to witness it. So I guess it's just different ways of looking at it.
It was more formal than NZ weddings because instead of being MC-ed, we just followed through the programme in the booklet, which reminded me a bit of maybe like an Anglican church mass thing where they read through the things together etc? I don't know much about that tho so I'll shut up.
There was lots of singing and on the couple's way out of the church, a nice happy song came on and they even did a little dance on their way out which was one of my favourite moments. I think the song was like "Tell everybody I'm on my way" sung by some of the girls.
Then we waited outside under umbrellas and were given little sachets of rice to open and throw on the couple. Couldn't really get it past the umbrella's I'm afraid! And everyone lined up and went to personally hug both the bride and groom outside the church. Then mad scurries to cars to go immediately to the reception.
Reception was VERY different to NZ weddings. Without going into lots of detail, I guess I'd say that whereas the cermoney was more formal, the reception was much more INformal. Very lighthearted and happy and TONNES of games and skits and videos and speeches and tributes and plays and photos and singing (both performances and the whole group together - Swedes LOVE to sing) and more games and more singing and slideshows and intermissions.
AMAZING buffet food including a million kinds of salad (I love swedish salad because it's never based around lettuce like boring NZ salad) and endless whole smoked salmons and pies and cheeses etc. Every time a platter got half-empty to host's whipped it away and replaced it with a completely full one. So no matter when you approached the table it was piled high with food.
Followed by more games and quizzes from our little booklets and then dessert which was served indivually with a cup of raspberry-vanilla pannacotta for each person. Along with coffee galore and bowls of royal Swedish chocolates along each table.
More games songs slideshows etc and then:
EIGHT wedding cakes.
You heard right. Each and every one was a proper Swedish torte which we would call gateau. I think Strawberry cream flavour. Like Princess Cake but white. Alongside that were bowls and bowls of candy because of course this is Sweden, and Swedes are one of the few European countries that really do candy (as opposed to just chocolate).
By this stage it was 1.30am and we had been going non-stop 11.5 hours. I'm not kidding. They really love to celebrate and have fun. The bride and groom were called on stage to do various funny tasks and basically make fun of themselves and be gifted by the love and attention of all their friends who had put SO much energy into all this entertainment.
Some parts reminded me a little of a 21st actually. Like all the tributes and embarrasment and childhood stories etc.
I met some girls who I was to go stay at a place with that night - none of us knew what it actually was but after we found it, in the rain and dark, we discovered it was a very very old cottage with a toilet in another building at the end of the yard, and the only way to get to the bedroom is to go upstair outside. We were quite excited and scared and lots of squeals of discovery haha. Think of the house from Pyscho, with 3 girls, and a storm outside.
We huddled under blankets and in the morning I woke up with the most intense headache which I'm sorry to say was a Migrain.
All this time avoiding Migrains and I got hit on my second-to-last night in Europe! I popped 2 magic migrain pills but they didn't work and I was shaking with nausea and pain when the others left.
Anyways, long story short, it got better, I made it to the second half of the wedding lunch, enjoyed great leftovers, hung with these lovely people, and then got a train here to Copenhagen airport. Where I'm sleeping nearby tonight.
I dont know if this post made sense... I'm very tired.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
I love Copenhagen Airport Times a Million
Well, I'm only saying that because this time I haven't had a chance to get into Copenhagen city itself, which I also love, times a million.
But I'm not starting there, I'm starting back in the Grande Duchy of Luxembourg!
I trudged down the road to the campsite "Aal" after being farewelled from the Hotel with a load of extra fees and what I think was pretty crap service, both times that I went there.
Not that I want to be defaming anyone, but here's a tip: If you want to stay in the Ardennes region of Luxembourg, don't go to the "Hotel de la Sure". It thinks it owns the town.
Met up with the camping-trip peoples. They were all from the UK except one girl from Vienna. I guess I expected more of a youth-group vibe but I turned out to be one of the youngest there by quite a bit. A lot of older people (50s) outnumbering the younger. There were all very friendly tho and so, yes Rashi, I did spend a week with happy christians - guitar and singalongs included.
I have to say I'm glad to be a real room instead of a tent tonight. I was sleeping on the ground and every night wearing pretty much ALL my clothes to try keep warm.
We did different activities every day which was cool - my favourites:
Exploring Luxembourg City (the city and country have the same name... wierd) for a day. I have this to say about Luxembourgers: Baditude!
They speak a mix of French and German and ooze a kinda punkish but sometimes posh style. Think 'Tatu' meets Victoria Beckham. But more exotic. The train station was sprinkled with bogans including pretty teenage girls with completely shaved heads and various piercings. They scream Whos Pretty Now? Then you get into the Old Town and it's all pretty and beautiful and you can sort of see how it originally was as a fortified city, including exploring the battlement caves underground. This side of town was sprinkled with well-heeled women and all that French/Italian elegance that comes naturally to these people without looking like they tried. A large mix of all shades of skin and lots of mixed black-and-white families. All seemed kinda exotic to me.
I stumbled across a cafe called "The Chocolate Company" which of COURSE I patronised and I managed to get the rest of the group to come with me.
We enjoyed a few huge slices of amazing cherry gateau ("It was like, THIS BIG") and I got a hot chocolate which was aniseed-hazelnut-blackforest-cherry flavour. Just to try.
We also went to the amazing huge caves far underground at Hotton, and on the way we stopped at.. BELGIUM.
I was very excited about this bonus since I wasn't able to go to Belgium other than that. It was a small and extremely cute town called La Roche that was dripping with Belgium-ness and even tho I dont know anyhting about how Belgium should look, it was exactly how I pictured it. A bit dirtier and greyer than say Austria, but still quaint. More stone-work on the houses.
Naturally I got a few gifts there and chocolate and a strawberry tart.
Add Belgian to a word and it suddenly becomes amazing. Belgian Chocolate. Belgian Biscuits. Belgian Beer. I'm thinking of doing this with all my words from now on.
We also spent a day kayaking and another day on a solar boat during which a few things happened:
- i got slightly sunburnt (I'm now quite brown which you may not believe. Being with pastey English people helped)
- saw lots of wildlife
- saw lots of "wild life" of the human kind. GAK. Europeans have no shame. I'm not just talking about simple innocent nudity either.
We used the campground cafe a lot and had a final get together there last night. I was lucky to have 2 great tent buddies, Sarah and Judith, who it wouldn't have been the same without.
I actually acquired a few English-isms like saying "luvly" a lot and pronouncing O's like the queen.
Won't last long, don't worry.
Then today I packed up early to head alone to Luxembourg for a few more hours and then got a flight here to Copenhagen. You had to pay for even a bottle of water on board which I thought was insane because it's a good airline and costs 200 British Pounds for the 1 hour flight! I said nooo thankyou to that.
Great airport - lots of shops and so far helpful staff.
Tomorrow off to the wedding in Sweden which I think will mean I'm sleeping in a cabin near a lake. Woot! Hope they won't mind my 2-months-squashed wedding outfit.
But I'm not starting there, I'm starting back in the Grande Duchy of Luxembourg!
I trudged down the road to the campsite "Aal" after being farewelled from the Hotel with a load of extra fees and what I think was pretty crap service, both times that I went there.
Not that I want to be defaming anyone, but here's a tip: If you want to stay in the Ardennes region of Luxembourg, don't go to the "Hotel de la Sure". It thinks it owns the town.
Met up with the camping-trip peoples. They were all from the UK except one girl from Vienna. I guess I expected more of a youth-group vibe but I turned out to be one of the youngest there by quite a bit. A lot of older people (50s) outnumbering the younger. There were all very friendly tho and so, yes Rashi, I did spend a week with happy christians - guitar and singalongs included.
I have to say I'm glad to be a real room instead of a tent tonight. I was sleeping on the ground and every night wearing pretty much ALL my clothes to try keep warm.
We did different activities every day which was cool - my favourites:
Exploring Luxembourg City (the city and country have the same name... wierd) for a day. I have this to say about Luxembourgers: Baditude!
They speak a mix of French and German and ooze a kinda punkish but sometimes posh style. Think 'Tatu' meets Victoria Beckham. But more exotic. The train station was sprinkled with bogans including pretty teenage girls with completely shaved heads and various piercings. They scream Whos Pretty Now? Then you get into the Old Town and it's all pretty and beautiful and you can sort of see how it originally was as a fortified city, including exploring the battlement caves underground. This side of town was sprinkled with well-heeled women and all that French/Italian elegance that comes naturally to these people without looking like they tried. A large mix of all shades of skin and lots of mixed black-and-white families. All seemed kinda exotic to me.
I stumbled across a cafe called "The Chocolate Company" which of COURSE I patronised and I managed to get the rest of the group to come with me.
We enjoyed a few huge slices of amazing cherry gateau ("It was like, THIS BIG") and I got a hot chocolate which was aniseed-hazelnut-blackforest-cherry flavour. Just to try.
We also went to the amazing huge caves far underground at Hotton, and on the way we stopped at.. BELGIUM.
I was very excited about this bonus since I wasn't able to go to Belgium other than that. It was a small and extremely cute town called La Roche that was dripping with Belgium-ness and even tho I dont know anyhting about how Belgium should look, it was exactly how I pictured it. A bit dirtier and greyer than say Austria, but still quaint. More stone-work on the houses.
Naturally I got a few gifts there and chocolate and a strawberry tart.
Add Belgian to a word and it suddenly becomes amazing. Belgian Chocolate. Belgian Biscuits. Belgian Beer. I'm thinking of doing this with all my words from now on.
We also spent a day kayaking and another day on a solar boat during which a few things happened:
- i got slightly sunburnt (I'm now quite brown which you may not believe. Being with pastey English people helped)
- saw lots of wildlife
- saw lots of "wild life" of the human kind. GAK. Europeans have no shame. I'm not just talking about simple innocent nudity either.
We used the campground cafe a lot and had a final get together there last night. I was lucky to have 2 great tent buddies, Sarah and Judith, who it wouldn't have been the same without.
I actually acquired a few English-isms like saying "luvly" a lot and pronouncing O's like the queen.
Won't last long, don't worry.
Then today I packed up early to head alone to Luxembourg for a few more hours and then got a flight here to Copenhagen. You had to pay for even a bottle of water on board which I thought was insane because it's a good airline and costs 200 British Pounds for the 1 hour flight! I said nooo thankyou to that.
Great airport - lots of shops and so far helpful staff.
Tomorrow off to the wedding in Sweden which I think will mean I'm sleeping in a cabin near a lake. Woot! Hope they won't mind my 2-months-squashed wedding outfit.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
The Grande Duchy of Luxembourg and another name I can't pronounce
It's something like Eschh Shhhhure Shuuurrrre. Spellt Eash-sur-Sure.
I said goodbye to Switzerland with a urine-smelling train and a sweet hazelnut pastry from Bahmann's in a paper bag. I thought it was cinnamon. Bummer.
After that first train ride, I arrived at Basel which is part of Switzerland, but little did I know I had to enter the French sector of the railway station. The instance you step through those dirty doors you become a part of a secret French society where no-one speaks English, or German, even the train staff, and you have to wait on a wait on a separate platform like a lonely French island for the crap trains, while all the nice clean Swiss people waited on their nice clean Swiss platform islands for nice clean Swiss trains.
French people weren’t so polite.
My seat was reserved on a carriage which apparently didn’t exist. Ran around like headless chicken to find carriage. Eventually found someone else who had same problem. Train guard NOT helpful. Ended up sitting with Japanese-Swiss man who works for the U.N, talking about countries and travel. (His words of wisdom re the Paris dirtyness and let-down-ness which I totally agree with: “Paris. It’s made for being looked at. Not experienced.”
Realised that we had to drive through France to get to Luxembourg. French passport control gave me lots of smiles and possibly a smothered wink. Weren’t so nice to Japan.
Looking out window when entering Luxembourg, noticed that Luxembourg as a whole, looks like a small poor German town with lots of dirty factories.
Japanese man can’t believe I am staying 8 days. He is staying in the country one night and already run out of things to do before he left the station.
follow that by 2 more train rides plus a bus ride and a bit of a hike, wheeling my luggage uphill, through a monsoon, and here I am at 8pm in Esch-sur-Sŭre, a tiny village in the “Grand Duchy of Luxembourg” which no-one in their right mind would ever come to, unless they lived a couple kilometres away.
I actually feel like I am at the end of the earth.
Locals: Mostly bogans actually...
Hotel Lady: “Are you amyska?”
Thank you lady for making assumptions based on the email address haha...
Hotel Lady to Hotel Boy: “Take her to the room”
Amyshka and Hotel Boy: Walk 3 blocks in the rain to get to my ”room” which is on the other side of the village. After all that lugging my luggage up the hill, it turns out I am staying down the bottom of it...
Suitcase condition: Saturated
Amyshka: Hungry. Decided the brave the bogans and go to the hotel bar/restaurant for dinner. It's the only place with internet. I sit here now with a very weak wireless signal, in a cute and quaint bar that's basically what you would imagine a tiny bad/restaurant in southern France to be. Except it's not France. It's Luxembourg. I'm sure there must be some difference...
Tiled floors, stone walls, wooden tables, someones dog tied to a table leg... and Amyshka.
I ordered fish soup which even Hotel Boy seemed concerned about "That's all??? You don't want meat?"
Oh ok, so there IS some German-ness here.
Tomorrow I meet up with the Oak Hall group for a full week of camping. Hope the monsoon quits.
I said goodbye to Switzerland with a urine-smelling train and a sweet hazelnut pastry from Bahmann's in a paper bag. I thought it was cinnamon. Bummer.
After that first train ride, I arrived at Basel which is part of Switzerland, but little did I know I had to enter the French sector of the railway station. The instance you step through those dirty doors you become a part of a secret French society where no-one speaks English, or German, even the train staff, and you have to wait on a wait on a separate platform like a lonely French island for the crap trains, while all the nice clean Swiss people waited on their nice clean Swiss platform islands for nice clean Swiss trains.
French people weren’t so polite.
My seat was reserved on a carriage which apparently didn’t exist. Ran around like headless chicken to find carriage. Eventually found someone else who had same problem. Train guard NOT helpful. Ended up sitting with Japanese-Swiss man who works for the U.N, talking about countries and travel. (His words of wisdom re the Paris dirtyness and let-down-ness which I totally agree with: “Paris. It’s made for being looked at. Not experienced.”
Realised that we had to drive through France to get to Luxembourg. French passport control gave me lots of smiles and possibly a smothered wink. Weren’t so nice to Japan.
Looking out window when entering Luxembourg, noticed that Luxembourg as a whole, looks like a small poor German town with lots of dirty factories.
Japanese man can’t believe I am staying 8 days. He is staying in the country one night and already run out of things to do before he left the station.
follow that by 2 more train rides plus a bus ride and a bit of a hike, wheeling my luggage uphill, through a monsoon, and here I am at 8pm in Esch-sur-Sŭre, a tiny village in the “Grand Duchy of Luxembourg” which no-one in their right mind would ever come to, unless they lived a couple kilometres away.
I actually feel like I am at the end of the earth.
Locals: Mostly bogans actually...
Hotel Lady: “Are you amyska?”
Thank you lady for making assumptions based on the email address haha...
Hotel Lady to Hotel Boy: “Take her to the room”
Amyshka and Hotel Boy: Walk 3 blocks in the rain to get to my ”room” which is on the other side of the village. After all that lugging my luggage up the hill, it turns out I am staying down the bottom of it...
Suitcase condition: Saturated
Amyshka: Hungry. Decided the brave the bogans and go to the hotel bar/restaurant for dinner. It's the only place with internet. I sit here now with a very weak wireless signal, in a cute and quaint bar that's basically what you would imagine a tiny bad/restaurant in southern France to be. Except it's not France. It's Luxembourg. I'm sure there must be some difference...
Tiled floors, stone walls, wooden tables, someones dog tied to a table leg... and Amyshka.
I ordered fish soup which even Hotel Boy seemed concerned about "That's all??? You don't want meat?"
Oh ok, so there IS some German-ness here.
Tomorrow I meet up with the Oak Hall group for a full week of camping. Hope the monsoon quits.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I still lurve Luz
A little more about Lucerne...
It ROCKS
I spent the morning seeing the sights, midday sheltering from sun, and afternoon climbing to the top of the city wall plus tasting chocolates.
I was super pleased to finally find the Heini Tearooms! They aren’t advertised in any tourist brochure but they are the place you have to go. I was lucky to stumble across that in a random internet review. I like going to these non-sponsored places...
I tried 3 chocolates, 2 of which are Lucerne specialties. I didn’t come here just to pay for normal chocolate. They are called Lozaerner Raegetroepfli which means “Raindrops from Lucerne”. Cherry-liquer filled. The milk chocolate one actually goes with the filling best, surprisingly.
I also bought a giant pretzel today because it’s been on my list of things to try. I mainly got it for the photo opp. Which can say was TRULY STUNNING as you will see below. It's dedicated to Liz Cashmore.
Oh yeah, AND a rhubarb-white-chocolate truffle, for the novelty. It was actually super good. Probably because it tasted more like lollies that chocolate, and I like that tang instead of plain chocolate sweetness...
I saw the dying-lion statue which is a pretty amazing work of art. There is a stone cliff and carved into it is a life-sized lion who is in the throes of death... he looks very sad.
It’s to commemorate soldiers who died protecting that famous royal chick from way back. I know she ate macaroons and they made a movie about her.
Now I am trying to figure out how on earth to get to this tiny isolated town of only 300 people, in the north of Luxembourg with no train routes, tomorrow. And to eat this berry-quark mousse from Bachmanns. Mm.
It ROCKS
I spent the morning seeing the sights, midday sheltering from sun, and afternoon climbing to the top of the city wall plus tasting chocolates.
I was super pleased to finally find the Heini Tearooms! They aren’t advertised in any tourist brochure but they are the place you have to go. I was lucky to stumble across that in a random internet review. I like going to these non-sponsored places...
I tried 3 chocolates, 2 of which are Lucerne specialties. I didn’t come here just to pay for normal chocolate. They are called Lozaerner Raegetroepfli which means “Raindrops from Lucerne”. Cherry-liquer filled. The milk chocolate one actually goes with the filling best, surprisingly.
I also bought a giant pretzel today because it’s been on my list of things to try. I mainly got it for the photo opp. Which can say was TRULY STUNNING as you will see below. It's dedicated to Liz Cashmore.
Oh yeah, AND a rhubarb-white-chocolate truffle, for the novelty. It was actually super good. Probably because it tasted more like lollies that chocolate, and I like that tang instead of plain chocolate sweetness...
I saw the dying-lion statue which is a pretty amazing work of art. There is a stone cliff and carved into it is a life-sized lion who is in the throes of death... he looks very sad.
It’s to commemorate soldiers who died protecting that famous royal chick from way back. I know she ate macaroons and they made a movie about her.
Now I am trying to figure out how on earth to get to this tiny isolated town of only 300 people, in the north of Luxembourg with no train routes, tomorrow. And to eat this berry-quark mousse from Bachmanns. Mm.
I ♥ LUZ
Yes, I really really really do ♥ Lucerne.
It's big, it's modern, it's old, it's cute, it's BEAUTIFUL, it's all compact, it's stylish, it's friendly, it's easy, it's hot, it's healthy, it's expensive, it's quality, and its chocolate.
Are you getting this - it's big AND friendly. In Europe.
At my budget hotel there were 2 types of hot chocolate available at breakfast. They must have used the money they saved by having no phone, internet, toilet or shower in the rooms for that.
The locals look more or less like Cindy Crawford. I mean that bone structure and colouring.
There are lots of long skinny tanned and muscular legs everywhere.
There are lots of well dressed men who are groomed but not the point of looking like a pansy feminine Swedish man.
Locals smile at you on the street, sometimes.
There are countless fruit and veggie stalls and even the supermarket has a whole isle of pick-n-mix herbal tea and salads.
There is a cute Old Town that is not that old because it's got lots of modern shops and scaffolding and is brimming with mopeds and bicycles.
The whole city is perched around a lake which reminds me a bit of wellington harbour. There are a lot of bridges going across and most are covered in flowers growing off them.
The lake is full of swans!
An iced coffee and slice of torte costs nearly $20 and you have to clear your own dishes but at least it is served with a smile.
Tipping is included in the food price so you dont need to worry about that.
This might be my new favourite city.
I ♥ LUZ!
It's big, it's modern, it's old, it's cute, it's BEAUTIFUL, it's all compact, it's stylish, it's friendly, it's easy, it's hot, it's healthy, it's expensive, it's quality, and its chocolate.
Are you getting this - it's big AND friendly. In Europe.
At my budget hotel there were 2 types of hot chocolate available at breakfast. They must have used the money they saved by having no phone, internet, toilet or shower in the rooms for that.
The locals look more or less like Cindy Crawford. I mean that bone structure and colouring.
There are lots of long skinny tanned and muscular legs everywhere.
There are lots of well dressed men who are groomed but not the point of looking like a pansy feminine Swedish man.
Locals smile at you on the street, sometimes.
There are countless fruit and veggie stalls and even the supermarket has a whole isle of pick-n-mix herbal tea and salads.
There is a cute Old Town that is not that old because it's got lots of modern shops and scaffolding and is brimming with mopeds and bicycles.
The whole city is perched around a lake which reminds me a bit of wellington harbour. There are a lot of bridges going across and most are covered in flowers growing off them.
The lake is full of swans!
An iced coffee and slice of torte costs nearly $20 and you have to clear your own dishes but at least it is served with a smile.
Tipping is included in the food price so you dont need to worry about that.
This might be my new favourite city.
I ♥ LUZ!
Monday, July 12, 2010
Lucerne
Salzburg hotel last night: Great hotel, disgusting awful heat wave. Sleepless. Noisy fan. Gak
Train ride today to Switzerland: Nice. Clean. Nicer than an aeroplane. These people must be tall because the train seats are massive. Late.
Zurich train station: Crowded and massive
Lucerne train station: Same
Hotel in Lucerne: cheapest hotel/hostel in Lucerne, (NZ$120 per night), single bed, no bathroom, lino floors, pay for internet.
Lucerne city: So far pretty rad. Lots of people and nice stuff. Cheapish food in the train station including Schoggi Mousse which is great even if you have to eat it with your fingers. By cheap I mean NZ$10 for a cup of mousse...
Lucerne locals: wear black singlets and styley clothes too
Me: Strangely dizzy right now
Weather: Was heat-wave hot, and now a thunderstorm has just started...
Train ride today to Switzerland: Nice. Clean. Nicer than an aeroplane. These people must be tall because the train seats are massive. Late.
Zurich train station: Crowded and massive
Lucerne train station: Same
Hotel in Lucerne: cheapest hotel/hostel in Lucerne, (NZ$120 per night), single bed, no bathroom, lino floors, pay for internet.
Lucerne city: So far pretty rad. Lots of people and nice stuff. Cheapish food in the train station including Schoggi Mousse which is great even if you have to eat it with your fingers. By cheap I mean NZ$10 for a cup of mousse...
Lucerne locals: wear black singlets and styley clothes too
Me: Strangely dizzy right now
Weather: Was heat-wave hot, and now a thunderstorm has just started...
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Life Ensurance
Ok, chances are I've written about 5 posts since you last checked... thats because i'm alone in Salzburg and as it's my 4th time here I don't feel the need to do anything but make the most of having that rare WiFi.
I guess what triggered this rant is that I only just discovered that, in my sweltering hot hotel room, there is a bar fridge.
Its extremely well disguised to fit in with the dark oak desk. Actually for some obscure reason I was checking to see if they had a Gideon's bible here because they seem to have them everywhere, but not here. I guess I was curious. Yeah, not much going on here..
I wish I had known about it because then my chocolate would not have melted (completely melted. After 6pm, in total shade, indoors, with the fan on full).
ANYWAY so i discovered this mysterious cupboard, fridge, that had Twix and Manner in it. Manner being a snack that is alllll over Europe and treated like... a treat. http://snaksnak.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/Manner-Vienna-Wafers.jpg
I have seen these in the supermarket and on tv a lot and resisted tempation to try one. But since it was there in my secret cupboard....
Long story short, I am dissappointed, all round, in general, with all European chocolate biscuits and chocolate snacks. I'm not talking about the kind you buy from an expensive chocolatier in Belgium: I'm talking about your average everyday supermarket-shoppers-treat.
TimTams: I have never been the biggest fan because if I'm going to have chocolate, I'll have it by itself, without the unnessesary dry biscuit in the middle. But Europeans, Mein Gott, what would they give for a TimTam!
Why? Because there is nothing like it on their market. Their chocolate biscuits are like Manner: simple wafers with icing in between, dry, disappointing, with a sickly sweet aftertaste and no actual real chocolate. Served up in individually-wrapped packages that make it look like sweet irresistability.
Poor deprived Europeans!!!
They have two pieces of biscuit with some nutella-goo sandwiched in the middle, and they think all their birthdays have comes at once. I think I better post over a box of TimTams and ToffeePops and Hundred's&Thousands and Squiggles.
On that note, COFFEE.
I'm not even a coffee drinker, in the way most people are, but I know my coffees. We always assume coffee is a European invention so it must be better in Europe, right?
WRONG
I havent had one really good coffee or hot chocolate here. The best I've had have been almost-starbucks grade. And any good Wellingtonian knows that Starbucks is a last resort, because every other cafe does much more amazing coffee and service.
Hot chocolate here is chocolate-essence (or milkshake syrup) with warm milk. Sometimes they pile whipped cream on, but the looks are deceptive.
I just want to make it perfectly clear to all the NZers who complain about how small and crap New Zealand is: New Zealand has got it made!
Our cafe culture and cuisine is ABOVE world-class average, I'm sure of it. Our chocolate biscuits rock. Any barista can make 10 different types of coffee, with swirls and presentation to match. Our restaurants serve cheap food that is well-made and presented perfectly on big white plates with dots of sauce in all the right places.
AND you dont have to tip!!!
New Zealand is rad.
I think I called this Life Ensurance because in NZ you can always Ensure your life will be rad. Or something. Anyway I thought it was pretty smart.
...on a second note, I just tried Ben & Jerry's cookie dough in Salzburg - never mind that it had nearly melted before I got it to the table, it was amazing.
Tick that off my bucket list.
I guess what triggered this rant is that I only just discovered that, in my sweltering hot hotel room, there is a bar fridge.
Its extremely well disguised to fit in with the dark oak desk. Actually for some obscure reason I was checking to see if they had a Gideon's bible here because they seem to have them everywhere, but not here. I guess I was curious. Yeah, not much going on here..
I wish I had known about it because then my chocolate would not have melted (completely melted. After 6pm, in total shade, indoors, with the fan on full).
ANYWAY so i discovered this mysterious cupboard, fridge, that had Twix and Manner in it. Manner being a snack that is alllll over Europe and treated like... a treat. http://snaksnak.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/Manner-Vienna-Wafers.jpg
I have seen these in the supermarket and on tv a lot and resisted tempation to try one. But since it was there in my secret cupboard....
Long story short, I am dissappointed, all round, in general, with all European chocolate biscuits and chocolate snacks. I'm not talking about the kind you buy from an expensive chocolatier in Belgium: I'm talking about your average everyday supermarket-shoppers-treat.
TimTams: I have never been the biggest fan because if I'm going to have chocolate, I'll have it by itself, without the unnessesary dry biscuit in the middle. But Europeans, Mein Gott, what would they give for a TimTam!
Why? Because there is nothing like it on their market. Their chocolate biscuits are like Manner: simple wafers with icing in between, dry, disappointing, with a sickly sweet aftertaste and no actual real chocolate. Served up in individually-wrapped packages that make it look like sweet irresistability.
Poor deprived Europeans!!!
They have two pieces of biscuit with some nutella-goo sandwiched in the middle, and they think all their birthdays have comes at once. I think I better post over a box of TimTams and ToffeePops and Hundred's&Thousands and Squiggles.
On that note, COFFEE.
I'm not even a coffee drinker, in the way most people are, but I know my coffees. We always assume coffee is a European invention so it must be better in Europe, right?
WRONG
I havent had one really good coffee or hot chocolate here. The best I've had have been almost-starbucks grade. And any good Wellingtonian knows that Starbucks is a last resort, because every other cafe does much more amazing coffee and service.
Hot chocolate here is chocolate-essence (or milkshake syrup) with warm milk. Sometimes they pile whipped cream on, but the looks are deceptive.
I just want to make it perfectly clear to all the NZers who complain about how small and crap New Zealand is: New Zealand has got it made!
Our cafe culture and cuisine is ABOVE world-class average, I'm sure of it. Our chocolate biscuits rock. Any barista can make 10 different types of coffee, with swirls and presentation to match. Our restaurants serve cheap food that is well-made and presented perfectly on big white plates with dots of sauce in all the right places.
AND you dont have to tip!!!
New Zealand is rad.
I think I called this Life Ensurance because in NZ you can always Ensure your life will be rad. Or something. Anyway I thought it was pretty smart.
...on a second note, I just tried Ben & Jerry's cookie dough in Salzburg - never mind that it had nearly melted before I got it to the table, it was amazing.
Tick that off my bucket list.
Blessings
I am so amazingly lucky! Or should I say 'blessed'.
At breakfast this morning I got some lovely farewells from 2 of my most favourite people: Annemarie and Siedgrid. Siegrid is completely awesome with a permanent smile and a beautiful voice that makes even Austrian-German sound lush.
Siegrid gave me firm warnings that "You must eat a lot this morning" so I took my usual bowl of cereal and some token bread on the side, which isn't normal. That got a lot of approval because Annemarie has just made the bread and kept nodding at me while I ate it, "Gut, geh?"
And yes it was. The closest thing to white bread I have had in europe, in a big plait with sugar sprinkled on top. Made for smearing with butter.
After that I was pressured to have more bread so I agreed to take some with me for the train. At hearing that, Siegrid started running around with a sandwich bag and came back with a packed lunch for me including a bar of Milka chocolate for dessert, woot!
There were hugs and kisses and promises of letters and emails and future visits. I said I'd like to come back with my family. OKAY?
Then the Boss met me in the hallway in her cute full-Austria dress, pastel colours complete with corset and floaty skirt, and gave me a packet of the hotel's branded chocolates (nougat filled) and a little card saying thank you, and my favourite line "You are a wonderful girl!"
Woot, that goes down on Amy's list of top-dollar words.
I said goodbye to the cleaner who wanted to come with me and also to one of the guests (night-walking lady) and even the taxi man bid me a fond farewell and safe travels. Gotta love small towns!!!
After that I caught a quite crowded train, with a very nice old man next to me, here to Salzburg for the night, before heading to Switzerland tomorrow morning.
It's so hot that the room heats up if you open the window. Seems to be a hot wind blowing over Austria these days.
I'm slowly getting used to being alone with my luggage. All fat 20 kgs of it. And learning how to deal with it on trains. I'm also getting used to Austria and I feel as if I know Salzburg like the town I never grew up in. I just hope they can understand my whack Austrian-tainted German in Switzerland!
At breakfast this morning I got some lovely farewells from 2 of my most favourite people: Annemarie and Siedgrid. Siegrid is completely awesome with a permanent smile and a beautiful voice that makes even Austrian-German sound lush.
Siegrid gave me firm warnings that "You must eat a lot this morning" so I took my usual bowl of cereal and some token bread on the side, which isn't normal. That got a lot of approval because Annemarie has just made the bread and kept nodding at me while I ate it, "Gut, geh?"
And yes it was. The closest thing to white bread I have had in europe, in a big plait with sugar sprinkled on top. Made for smearing with butter.
After that I was pressured to have more bread so I agreed to take some with me for the train. At hearing that, Siegrid started running around with a sandwich bag and came back with a packed lunch for me including a bar of Milka chocolate for dessert, woot!
There were hugs and kisses and promises of letters and emails and future visits. I said I'd like to come back with my family. OKAY?
Then the Boss met me in the hallway in her cute full-Austria dress, pastel colours complete with corset and floaty skirt, and gave me a packet of the hotel's branded chocolates (nougat filled) and a little card saying thank you, and my favourite line "You are a wonderful girl!"
Woot, that goes down on Amy's list of top-dollar words.
I said goodbye to the cleaner who wanted to come with me and also to one of the guests (night-walking lady) and even the taxi man bid me a fond farewell and safe travels. Gotta love small towns!!!
After that I caught a quite crowded train, with a very nice old man next to me, here to Salzburg for the night, before heading to Switzerland tomorrow morning.
It's so hot that the room heats up if you open the window. Seems to be a hot wind blowing over Austria these days.
I'm slowly getting used to being alone with my luggage. All fat 20 kgs of it. And learning how to deal with it on trains. I'm also getting used to Austria and I feel as if I know Salzburg like the town I never grew up in. I just hope they can understand my whack Austrian-tainted German in Switzerland!
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Something about Edelweiss
Sadness. I am leaving Gastein in the morning. Not on a jet plane tho...
Tonight we had a little wee farewell in the kitchen which was icecream sundaes with myself, Annemarie, Siedgrid, Marita and the boss herself. It was all very nice and Austrian and my dishwashing skills were well praised haha...
I gave them some specialty nougat chocolates which I bought for them a while back. 'Nougat' in Europe really just means Nutella, basically. They love the stuff. Would kill for it. So even tho I'm not a mad fan, they were happy.
And a thank you note in German which caused a few giggles.
I will have pretty good memories of this place. It's fair to say it's been one of the best and most coincidental (seemingly) experiences of my entire life.
I mean, last night I got to man the strudel-buffet which was an experience in itself. Meat strudel, black-pudding strudel (surprised myself by loving it), spinach strudel, sourkraut strudel (of course), apple strudel and also Marienne-Topfen Strudel. Marienne-topfen is basically like baked custard with apricots. The bland and protein-rich kind your nana used to make. Mmm.
Today I found a new track called MarienWeg which I loved and I think I've now officially done everything you can do in Bad Gastein, except for a radon-thermal treatment in a cave.
I was going to sing So Long Farewell, from Sound of Music, at this point, but the Edelweiss song is much better and everyone secretly knows it.
Tonight we had a little wee farewell in the kitchen which was icecream sundaes with myself, Annemarie, Siedgrid, Marita and the boss herself. It was all very nice and Austrian and my dishwashing skills were well praised haha...
I gave them some specialty nougat chocolates which I bought for them a while back. 'Nougat' in Europe really just means Nutella, basically. They love the stuff. Would kill for it. So even tho I'm not a mad fan, they were happy.
And a thank you note in German which caused a few giggles.
I will have pretty good memories of this place. It's fair to say it's been one of the best and most coincidental (seemingly) experiences of my entire life.
I mean, last night I got to man the strudel-buffet which was an experience in itself. Meat strudel, black-pudding strudel (surprised myself by loving it), spinach strudel, sourkraut strudel (of course), apple strudel and also Marienne-Topfen Strudel. Marienne-topfen is basically like baked custard with apricots. The bland and protein-rich kind your nana used to make. Mmm.
Today I found a new track called MarienWeg which I loved and I think I've now officially done everything you can do in Bad Gastein, except for a radon-thermal treatment in a cave.
I was going to sing So Long Farewell, from Sound of Music, at this point, but the Edelweiss song is much better and everyone secretly knows it.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Badesee
Wow I seem to have got internet on my laptop for a brief moment! I'll make the most of this and shower you with photos from Bad Gastein at the end of this post.
This morning I went to the Badesee (swimming lake) for the first time. I resisted going there before because you have to pay to get entrance, and the whole concept of that is just insane in a kiwi mind.
Anyone someone convinced me and I got the bus out there and was priveledged to be allowed to sit on the grassy edge of a shallow lake, watching people who were watching people, under umbrellas, mostly topless.
It was a stinking hot morning so I took my first dip in Europe. About time the togs got used! I was a little un-nerved by the small snakes I'd seen in the water but it was all the more intriguing because of it.
It was a stinking hot morning so I took my first dip in Europe. About time the togs got used! I was a little un-nerved by the small snakes I'd seen in the water but it was all the more intriguing because of it.
After a while I got bored of sitting in the sweltering sun with people who had clearly never seen a real beach in their life, and headed back to Gastein. The Badesee was really beautiful tho and there are not many places in the world you can swim under the hot sun, with beach umbrellas, and snowy-tipped alps.
Anyway here is a small bombardment of other Bad Gastein pictures for your viewing pleasure:
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Ho Hum Gastein goes on. But not for long
Not much new has happened in BadGasTown but it's nearly time for me to sing a cheesy Sound of Music song as I gap.
Interestingly the bosses daughter said to me the other day that in summer bad Gastein is absolutely dead except for 'just old people' *bored face*. But in winter, it's actually quite the place to go and has a famous night-life and apparently is absolutely bursting with young Swedes who come here to ski in the alps. She said that all except one bar close down in Summer, which will explain why I haven't been able to see.. pretty much anything. Happening. Here.
That's not to say I don't love this place. It's entirely loveable. You can play Heidi all day long and nothing will burst your little alpine bubble.
It's rude not to smile at strangers and say hello in the street.
I can see baby deers in the woods out my window.
Everyone is on a health-kick.
All the food comes in perfect ball-formation....
... there are almost no shops... no young people... no English (virtually no German either - just a twisted dialect)...
Which is why I have decided to leave tiny little happy-ville and move on to Luzern in Switzerland and then go camping in northern Luxembourg. I figure Luxembourg will be great - it's a tiny country squished between the best of everything: chocolate from Belgium, Tuscan-vibes from Southern France, alps from Switzerland, gateau from Germany.... castles from everywhere... a whole heap of hiking, river-swimming, and hopefully rock-climbing. And young people. And English. WOOT
I'm assuming I won't have much contact with the outside world during that time.
Then off to a wedding in southern Sweden by a lake, for one of the most lovely Swedes you will never meet.
Then home for a lamb roast and some much-promised welcome-back-chocolate cake which I am secretly extreeeemely excited about.
Interestingly the bosses daughter said to me the other day that in summer bad Gastein is absolutely dead except for 'just old people' *bored face*. But in winter, it's actually quite the place to go and has a famous night-life and apparently is absolutely bursting with young Swedes who come here to ski in the alps. She said that all except one bar close down in Summer, which will explain why I haven't been able to see.. pretty much anything. Happening. Here.
That's not to say I don't love this place. It's entirely loveable. You can play Heidi all day long and nothing will burst your little alpine bubble.
It's rude not to smile at strangers and say hello in the street.
I can see baby deers in the woods out my window.
Everyone is on a health-kick.
All the food comes in perfect ball-formation....
... there are almost no shops... no young people... no English (virtually no German either - just a twisted dialect)...
Which is why I have decided to leave tiny little happy-ville and move on to Luzern in Switzerland and then go camping in northern Luxembourg. I figure Luxembourg will be great - it's a tiny country squished between the best of everything: chocolate from Belgium, Tuscan-vibes from Southern France, alps from Switzerland, gateau from Germany.... castles from everywhere... a whole heap of hiking, river-swimming, and hopefully rock-climbing. And young people. And English. WOOT
I'm assuming I won't have much contact with the outside world during that time.
Then off to a wedding in southern Sweden by a lake, for one of the most lovely Swedes you will never meet.
Then home for a lamb roast and some much-promised welcome-back-chocolate cake which I am secretly extreeeemely excited about.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Guests
This is for my dad.
Guests: Yes, they are the sole purpose of this, or any, hotel. I guess I haven't mentioned much about them. Let me tell you a few little juicy titbits of information about this strange and exotic species.
Most of these facts I have gleaned whilst cleaning their rooms. Which is unfortunate.
There are a lot of guests at the moment. I think a lot of them are here on some kind of christian-based conference. They have seminars in the lounge room and they snaffle up the cake from the 'Kaffee und Kuchen' table at afternoon tea. They are mostly between 50 and 90 years old, which makes them the ideal inhabitants for Bad Gastein.
All of them are friendly, I think. They smile every morning and say 'Guten Morgen!' even when it's not morning. Sometimes they stop to chat in the hallway when I am standing over a vacuum cleaner and it's never a conversation that requires me giving an answer. I just nod and smile when they smile, laugh when they laugh. When they say 'Danke', I say 'Bitte' and that's about all you need to know around here (unless someone is specifying how many prawns they want picked out of the risotto...)
One old lady goes for walks at night past bedtime, when I am out running. (avoiding the heat of daytime)
I use the term 'bedtime' loosely because honestly, most of these guests don't have a bedtime... I'm not sure how old people can stay up late and keep themselves entertained around here, but they do, even after I have gone to bed out of sheer boredom.
They sing grace about 3 times before every meal, from what I can make out. In German. With an electric harp.
I stare at their feet curiously everytime I walk past the lounge/meeting room. Everything else is obscured by the netting over the glass.
Guests don't know how lucky they have it. Their rooms get vacuumed every day whether they are there or not. Their windows get scrubbed - inside and out. Every shelf inside the wardrobe gets wiped down, and even the top of the wardrobe (out of reach of any human being) is scrubbed down too. Just incase. Their beds get made. Chocolates get put on the pillows. Their pyjamas get folded. Their shoes get lined up. Their filthy toilet gets disinfected by a gagging Amy.
I have to be honest, it's hard not to get annoyed when someone freshly stinks out your toilet before you have even finished cleaning the bathroom.
There are other guests too. I learn about them by accident when I clean their rooms. Not that I want to know most of the things I find out. There are some questions that are better left unasked ('how did your toilet bowl get dark orange?' or 'why does your rubbish bin smell like urine?' or 'is this a cup of vomit next to your sink? or what? its been here 3 days now')
These little treasures may pop up amongst piles of raw tobacco on the carpet, or maybe a shower full of grass.
Some guests are very materialistic. I know this because they bring all their worldly possesions to the hotel. Maybe an entire crate of museli bars, and literally they have covered the whole desk and shelves with books. Twelve pairs of shoes lined up against the wall. I kid you not.
Most of the older people keep bowls of fruit and sweets in their room, which I don't think they eat, and makes me quite jealous.
Younger people seem to stock up on cartons of juice, snicker bars, ticktacks, wine, pepsi and lollies before they come to Bad Gastein. Like all the healthiness of a health-spa-hotel would be too much.
Whenever one of the guests figures out I can't speak German, what do they do? Nothing. They speak German to me still. I like it.
One guest told me the German ecomony is going under in about 20 years and that when that happens he's moving to New Zealand, so he was very happy to meet a real kiwi.
Most guests are here on a so-called health-kick but the medicine-cup in their room, propped up against a bottle of port, makes me realise the fine line between health-spa-resort and just plain spa-resort.
When it comes down to it, all anybody wants in life is to have a little fun and be well taken care of.
Guests: Yes, they are the sole purpose of this, or any, hotel. I guess I haven't mentioned much about them. Let me tell you a few little juicy titbits of information about this strange and exotic species.
Most of these facts I have gleaned whilst cleaning their rooms. Which is unfortunate.
There are a lot of guests at the moment. I think a lot of them are here on some kind of christian-based conference. They have seminars in the lounge room and they snaffle up the cake from the 'Kaffee und Kuchen' table at afternoon tea. They are mostly between 50 and 90 years old, which makes them the ideal inhabitants for Bad Gastein.
All of them are friendly, I think. They smile every morning and say 'Guten Morgen!' even when it's not morning. Sometimes they stop to chat in the hallway when I am standing over a vacuum cleaner and it's never a conversation that requires me giving an answer. I just nod and smile when they smile, laugh when they laugh. When they say 'Danke', I say 'Bitte' and that's about all you need to know around here (unless someone is specifying how many prawns they want picked out of the risotto...)
One old lady goes for walks at night past bedtime, when I am out running. (avoiding the heat of daytime)
I use the term 'bedtime' loosely because honestly, most of these guests don't have a bedtime... I'm not sure how old people can stay up late and keep themselves entertained around here, but they do, even after I have gone to bed out of sheer boredom.
They sing grace about 3 times before every meal, from what I can make out. In German. With an electric harp.
I stare at their feet curiously everytime I walk past the lounge/meeting room. Everything else is obscured by the netting over the glass.
Guests don't know how lucky they have it. Their rooms get vacuumed every day whether they are there or not. Their windows get scrubbed - inside and out. Every shelf inside the wardrobe gets wiped down, and even the top of the wardrobe (out of reach of any human being) is scrubbed down too. Just incase. Their beds get made. Chocolates get put on the pillows. Their pyjamas get folded. Their shoes get lined up. Their filthy toilet gets disinfected by a gagging Amy.
I have to be honest, it's hard not to get annoyed when someone freshly stinks out your toilet before you have even finished cleaning the bathroom.
There are other guests too. I learn about them by accident when I clean their rooms. Not that I want to know most of the things I find out. There are some questions that are better left unasked ('how did your toilet bowl get dark orange?' or 'why does your rubbish bin smell like urine?' or 'is this a cup of vomit next to your sink? or what? its been here 3 days now')
These little treasures may pop up amongst piles of raw tobacco on the carpet, or maybe a shower full of grass.
Some guests are very materialistic. I know this because they bring all their worldly possesions to the hotel. Maybe an entire crate of museli bars, and literally they have covered the whole desk and shelves with books. Twelve pairs of shoes lined up against the wall. I kid you not.
Most of the older people keep bowls of fruit and sweets in their room, which I don't think they eat, and makes me quite jealous.
Younger people seem to stock up on cartons of juice, snicker bars, ticktacks, wine, pepsi and lollies before they come to Bad Gastein. Like all the healthiness of a health-spa-hotel would be too much.
Whenever one of the guests figures out I can't speak German, what do they do? Nothing. They speak German to me still. I like it.
One guest told me the German ecomony is going under in about 20 years and that when that happens he's moving to New Zealand, so he was very happy to meet a real kiwi.
Most guests are here on a so-called health-kick but the medicine-cup in their room, propped up against a bottle of port, makes me realise the fine line between health-spa-resort and just plain spa-resort.
When it comes down to it, all anybody wants in life is to have a little fun and be well taken care of.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
'Ferien mit Stil'
This is the little slogan about our hotel. It means something like 'Holiday with peace' and that couldn't sum up Bad Gastein much better...
A little too much peace at times, for a growing girl. (I use 'growing' with bitterness. I sneakily weighed myself whilst cleaning the sauna rooms this morning and apparently have lost 3 kg but I somehow don't believe it...)
On Friday I wandered the streets in the vain hopes of finding some night-life. There was a man with a nipple-length grey beard in the petrol-station shop, and I think he was drinking a beer. The end.
I went 'hiking' again up to an area past Grüner Baum which is really beautiful but I'm thinking I'm starting to get used to it and don't notice it much anymore. I sat by a river for a while and waited for the scary horse driver to go past with his carriage, and thought about how wierd it is that absolutely no-one swims in rivers here. People go outside to experience the great outdoors, but they only ever do it in one way: with a backpack and nordic walking poles. (I've been calling them Alpine Sticks but that's not correct). They walk along the path and then they walk back. it makes sense since the rivers etc are not even really accesible. Most are fenced off. But I miss the kiwi attitude: there's no point if you don't get wet. And what's wrong with bare feet? Who says I can't wear jandals when I go hiking? And why do they need those poles to walk ANYWHERE. I even see little kids with them. They are exactly like ski-poles, with no skis in sight. They walk to town with them. They walk back. I never see anyone going on runs. Just walking...with poles.
Since then I've been helping out a lot here and doing some quite long days working. I don't mind because it's something to do, I guess. Today there was a big banquet thing here with a buffet which I got to man. Guess what I had to wear? My carefully chosen purple top and jeans? Noo. A blue and white checkered blouse and a floor-length white apron. Austrians are so hot!
I found it a bit wierd to be manning the buffet and serving everyone when I can't understand most of what they say. I do know that one lady got annoyed at me for giving her the saffron-prawn rissoto when she actually apparently wanted me to pick the prawns out and just give her those. How was I to know?
Most people here are super friendly tho. The ones who don't think I'm retarded instead of foreign that is..
Oh and I got to take nougat-knudeln for dessert which is my third kind of knudeln that I've tried in Bad Gastein. It's another dough-ball, this time filled with chocolate nougat. I officially am in love with Annamarie and I'm going to marry her when I grow up.
Have had a great time scrubbing toilets for guests (mm!) and learning how to make a European bad which can I tell you is INSANE.
It begins with the bottom sheet, which is never elasticated. Double beds have 2 single mattresses and two single duvets. Thats just the way it is. The bottom sheets have to be folded and pulled tight in all the corners which takes me about 10 minutes alone.
Then the pillow (which is at least twice as big as an NZ pillow) has to be stuffed into a case that is a) a foot longer than the pillow itself and b) narrower than the pillow. So this takes about 5 minutes stuffing it into the right position before beginning the intricate task of folding the extra foot of fabric out of the way, in a very specific manner. There can be no wrinkles from this extra foot showing.
After this you throw the pillow down on the mattress twice, hard. I'm not kidding - the head cleaner showed me. Then you pound it with your fists a little bit, followed by a hearty slapping. NO JOKE.
When it is appropriately tufted, you prop the pillow up on its SIDE on a 45 degree angle to the head of the bed. At this point it looks like a rectangular marshmallow. You pull the corners out so they are sharp. The next bit I like best:
With one swift karate chop, you slice your stiff hand down the exact centre of the upright pillow, to create a large dent. The pillow now looks like a fat white 'M' shape. At this point I smile at my pillow, and then the head-cleaner comes and does it again...
Next: the duvet. (There is no top sheet. Duvet is the only option in Europe. Which is why its so impossible to cool down at night). The duvet has to be fitted like the pillow, and then the whole thing is turned sideways and rolled into 3rds, then laid lengthways along the mattress like a slug.
If it looks like someone has snuck out the window down the wall and into their boyfriends car and left a human-like lump of bedding on their bed to fool their parents, then you have made the bed correctly.
Finish with a postcard and a nougat-filled chocolate patty on the sheet.
AMEN TO THAT
A little too much peace at times, for a growing girl. (I use 'growing' with bitterness. I sneakily weighed myself whilst cleaning the sauna rooms this morning and apparently have lost 3 kg but I somehow don't believe it...)
On Friday I wandered the streets in the vain hopes of finding some night-life. There was a man with a nipple-length grey beard in the petrol-station shop, and I think he was drinking a beer. The end.
I went 'hiking' again up to an area past Grüner Baum which is really beautiful but I'm thinking I'm starting to get used to it and don't notice it much anymore. I sat by a river for a while and waited for the scary horse driver to go past with his carriage, and thought about how wierd it is that absolutely no-one swims in rivers here. People go outside to experience the great outdoors, but they only ever do it in one way: with a backpack and nordic walking poles. (I've been calling them Alpine Sticks but that's not correct). They walk along the path and then they walk back. it makes sense since the rivers etc are not even really accesible. Most are fenced off. But I miss the kiwi attitude: there's no point if you don't get wet. And what's wrong with bare feet? Who says I can't wear jandals when I go hiking? And why do they need those poles to walk ANYWHERE. I even see little kids with them. They are exactly like ski-poles, with no skis in sight. They walk to town with them. They walk back. I never see anyone going on runs. Just walking...with poles.
Since then I've been helping out a lot here and doing some quite long days working. I don't mind because it's something to do, I guess. Today there was a big banquet thing here with a buffet which I got to man. Guess what I had to wear? My carefully chosen purple top and jeans? Noo. A blue and white checkered blouse and a floor-length white apron. Austrians are so hot!
I found it a bit wierd to be manning the buffet and serving everyone when I can't understand most of what they say. I do know that one lady got annoyed at me for giving her the saffron-prawn rissoto when she actually apparently wanted me to pick the prawns out and just give her those. How was I to know?
Most people here are super friendly tho. The ones who don't think I'm retarded instead of foreign that is..
Oh and I got to take nougat-knudeln for dessert which is my third kind of knudeln that I've tried in Bad Gastein. It's another dough-ball, this time filled with chocolate nougat. I officially am in love with Annamarie and I'm going to marry her when I grow up.
Have had a great time scrubbing toilets for guests (mm!) and learning how to make a European bad which can I tell you is INSANE.
It begins with the bottom sheet, which is never elasticated. Double beds have 2 single mattresses and two single duvets. Thats just the way it is. The bottom sheets have to be folded and pulled tight in all the corners which takes me about 10 minutes alone.
Then the pillow (which is at least twice as big as an NZ pillow) has to be stuffed into a case that is a) a foot longer than the pillow itself and b) narrower than the pillow. So this takes about 5 minutes stuffing it into the right position before beginning the intricate task of folding the extra foot of fabric out of the way, in a very specific manner. There can be no wrinkles from this extra foot showing.
After this you throw the pillow down on the mattress twice, hard. I'm not kidding - the head cleaner showed me. Then you pound it with your fists a little bit, followed by a hearty slapping. NO JOKE.
When it is appropriately tufted, you prop the pillow up on its SIDE on a 45 degree angle to the head of the bed. At this point it looks like a rectangular marshmallow. You pull the corners out so they are sharp. The next bit I like best:
With one swift karate chop, you slice your stiff hand down the exact centre of the upright pillow, to create a large dent. The pillow now looks like a fat white 'M' shape. At this point I smile at my pillow, and then the head-cleaner comes and does it again...
Next: the duvet. (There is no top sheet. Duvet is the only option in Europe. Which is why its so impossible to cool down at night). The duvet has to be fitted like the pillow, and then the whole thing is turned sideways and rolled into 3rds, then laid lengthways along the mattress like a slug.
If it looks like someone has snuck out the window down the wall and into their boyfriends car and left a human-like lump of bedding on their bed to fool their parents, then you have made the bed correctly.
Finish with a postcard and a nougat-filled chocolate patty on the sheet.
AMEN TO THAT
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Retirement home...
I'm starting to get a feel for what it would be like to live in an old people's home. The terror is overwhelming. It would be like living at a hotel, without being allowed to work, browse the web, or go exploring and hiking in the forest, or walk in and out when you want. You don't have your own kitchen so you can't just go and browse the pantry in the hope of fresh snack ideas. You can't have morning tea, you can't have a hot drink after 6pm or before 3pm, you can't control which food you eat, or the amount, and you have to have meals at set times. You can't just get up and decide to clean your house - you have to wait for the cleaning gear to come to you, whenever the cleaner is ready. Your bedroom is your living room, so you alternate between sitting on the bed and sitting on the chair, which is not much variety... you go down and sit in the common lounge area and put your nose in a paper, but really you're just there in the hopes of hearing other human conversation and the possibility of having a chat with someone. Never mind that you are both deaf so barely seem to speak the same language.
You can't do aerobics in your room because the poeple downstairs will get disturbed. When you open your balcony door your room fills up with cigarette smoke from someone outside. You pass your time trying to plan and organise your week and other events like the birthdates of all the people in your life. You keep calendars filled up as best you can. You are constantly wondering what will be for lunch, or dinner, because it's the only reliable time-breaker in your life.
And so on.
It's an ultimately sobering thought.
I guess I have had a lot of time to think about it.
Lucky for me I can take off whenever I want and get myself lots of nice little adventure-injuries like grazed knees (now I understand why they dont wear jandals... gravel on river banks) and the like. I'm hoping tomorrow I will get time inbetween morning job (cleaning. Not excited about it.) and evening job in the kitchen to go investigate a new track I found today. I found around one corner the heat lifted and instantly there was ice cold air around me. It was in about a 5m square radius. I dont understand it on such a boiling day and I want to go back to see what it was.
Anyway, the main reaon I'm writing this is because its only 9pm and everything is closed and dead and I am still very much alive.
You can't do aerobics in your room because the poeple downstairs will get disturbed. When you open your balcony door your room fills up with cigarette smoke from someone outside. You pass your time trying to plan and organise your week and other events like the birthdates of all the people in your life. You keep calendars filled up as best you can. You are constantly wondering what will be for lunch, or dinner, because it's the only reliable time-breaker in your life.
And so on.
It's an ultimately sobering thought.
I guess I have had a lot of time to think about it.
Lucky for me I can take off whenever I want and get myself lots of nice little adventure-injuries like grazed knees (now I understand why they dont wear jandals... gravel on river banks) and the like. I'm hoping tomorrow I will get time inbetween morning job (cleaning. Not excited about it.) and evening job in the kitchen to go investigate a new track I found today. I found around one corner the heat lifted and instantly there was ice cold air around me. It was in about a 5m square radius. I dont understand it on such a boiling day and I want to go back to see what it was.
Anyway, the main reaon I'm writing this is because its only 9pm and everything is closed and dead and I am still very much alive.
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