On Friday I began my recovery/rest/relaxation time in Riseley. Slept in, dealt with emails etc (ugh), then headed to the big smoke of Bedford to stroll around the shopping area. It is quite a nice quaint little town. Then down to the river, all very English and reminiscent of several places in NZ. There we watched people row Norse-themed boats incompetently on a little pond, while eating icecream and laughing at them. Then to the 'American Diner' for lunch, which was actually very good despite the poetically cheesey surroundings.
Friday night was spent out and about, first to an outstandingly authentic English pub called the Wellington Arms. It has a sign outside saying: "REAL ALE PUB. NO FOSTERS!! NO STELLA!! NO CARLING!! NO CRAP!" Needless to say the beers were hand-pulled and ever so slightly warm. Then Kieran and I met up with Menna and her mates at some other place in town.
Saturday was more cricket, me again on the Riseley team, this time in the full 40-over game against an all-Pakistani side. They bowled first and really shook our openers, dismissing them cheaply. By the time I got in I was facing spinners, and had quite a lot of fun! Only scored three runs before being caught out after stupidly playing at a bouncing ball, but did stay in for about 20-30 minutes and the highest-scorer in our partnership was actually extras (wides, byes, no balls). They chased the target down easy in the afternoon sun, but not after some good wickets were taken and I was worked hard (also enjoyable) in the covers. After our defeat we went to a barbecue in the village where good times were had, including dj sets and getting told off at about 10pm by a village grump, classic.
Sunday we visited Cambridge, about 45 minutes drive from Riseley. You park outside town at the Park & Ride, then take a huge double-decker bus into the middle of town...arriving after a few crazy turns at intersections that required the reversing of several other buses. Despite all the touristy touches (no less than a dozen people asked us if we wanted to go punting...all the punting seemed to be punt-your-own though...) the town has retained some character, and then you get to the Colleges and they truly are as they've always been. Pristine lawns and really nice stone architecture, and sooooooo quiet. Cushy summer research fellowship in 2010 here I come...
Thursday, 31 July 2008
Friday, 25 July 2008
Photos of Europe, Part One
So now I'm finally up to date with the writing, and now the photos too.
Photos available here (you don't need to be on facebook to see them):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=24879&l=3a09d&id=703999762
Let me know if it's not working for you...
Shaun
Photos available here (you don't need to be on facebook to see them):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=24879&l=3a09d&id=703999762
Let me know if it's not working for you...
Shaun
Barcelona, London Luton, and cricket in Riseley
The morning of our full day in Barcelona (Tuesday 22nd) we decided to devote it to some Gaudi, after transferring hostels (by time we booked demand was very high). Second hostel was in same chain, Sant Jordi, and possibly even better than the other one given it was purpose-built.
Caught the Metro across town to the Vallarca stop and made the climb to Park Guell. Except most of the street that you climb up has been escalatorised! We were glad that there is at least a few hundred metres of walking though, makes the views more rewarding. The park was built from 1900 to 1914, was designed by Gaudi and financed by a wealthy guy (Count Guell) who had commissioned Gaudi's first works. Guell wanted to create a serene garden city in Barcelona, with 60 plots on which your house could occupy only a smallish fraction. In classic Iberian vision-exceeds-execution fashion, construction stopped in 1914 after only three plots had been sold. The silver lining though is that now it is a public space, with some cool architecture (see photos coming up) and great views out across Barcelona.
After walking back down we caught the metro to the Sagrada Familia, the other great Gaudi unfinished work. He designed it, and work has been underway almost continuously since 1882. It's supposed to have 18 towers at the end but they've got plenty to go to finish it in the target year of 2026. Its a highly polarising building. The scale and grandeur are certainly impressive, and I love the modernista influence in places. But it is quite over the top, and very scatter-brained. I hope to see it again, completed, and make another personal judgement then.
That evening we returned to the hostel and cooked a proper meal of pasta (having subsisted on fruit, tuna sandwiches, and salad for the entire festival) and then got boozed at the hostel with others. Alex and Irene from the Venice hostel randomly turned up, I've never spoken so much Russian in my recent life as I have on this trip!
Another too-early wakeup call on Wednesday morning to get to the train station by Metro, to catch the bus to Reus airport (one of two 'Barcelona' airports Ryanair flies out of). Thank goodness we didn't just wait out the front of the station, as the bus left from a mostly-obscured stop that you can't see on exiting the station. Luckily we got the bus for the earlier Ryanair flight, which saved us some stress when traffic made the journey 2 hours instead of 1.5.
So we played 500 in the carpark of this tinny little regional airport underneath a tree, packed and re-packed our stuffs, and went to check-in. Joe came in 1kg over allowance (€15), and I came in 0.5 under! This was despite having picked up a 3kg tent - i did it by putting everything heavy into my hand luggage, it's the Ryanair way! The flight ended up being delayed an hour, which through out Kieran's pickup at the London Luton end.
Then when we landed the queue for non-EU passports took about 45 minutes, and after some probing questions, that had all taken so long that our bags were nowhere to be seen. Because Luton is a hellhole budget airline airport, there were of course no airline staff round, so we just had to watch all four baggage carousels until, finally our bags appeared. Relief! Then Joe met his sister and we parted ways on different trains, Joe for London and me for Bedford, where I saw Kieran for the first time in at least two years.
He drove me to the quaint village of Riseley, which as Menna (Kieran's girlfriend) calls it, is 'gateway to the whops'. But it is a great wee place, got the walking tour round the village yesterday from Menna (she grew up here) and saw houses built in the 1400s and 1500s and a Norman church from the 1100s - amazing! The night I arrived, I'd been in the village two minutes before Kieran pulled over to say hello to some cricketing mates, and I was instantly recruited into the team.
The game was last night on the village green. We had 3 players plus 4 ring-ins, against Henlow's B-team of 11 men. They smashed 124 off 16 overs, but not before a few nice dismissals. Kieran was keeping and got a great single-handed catch down leg side, while I caught the captain out at backward square leg for a golden duck! Nobody was more surprised than I... Our batting performance was atrocious, all out for 21, so we lost handsomely. Then over to the pub for an excellent steak burger to put us all to sleep.
Caught the Metro across town to the Vallarca stop and made the climb to Park Guell. Except most of the street that you climb up has been escalatorised! We were glad that there is at least a few hundred metres of walking though, makes the views more rewarding. The park was built from 1900 to 1914, was designed by Gaudi and financed by a wealthy guy (Count Guell) who had commissioned Gaudi's first works. Guell wanted to create a serene garden city in Barcelona, with 60 plots on which your house could occupy only a smallish fraction. In classic Iberian vision-exceeds-execution fashion, construction stopped in 1914 after only three plots had been sold. The silver lining though is that now it is a public space, with some cool architecture (see photos coming up) and great views out across Barcelona.
After walking back down we caught the metro to the Sagrada Familia, the other great Gaudi unfinished work. He designed it, and work has been underway almost continuously since 1882. It's supposed to have 18 towers at the end but they've got plenty to go to finish it in the target year of 2026. Its a highly polarising building. The scale and grandeur are certainly impressive, and I love the modernista influence in places. But it is quite over the top, and very scatter-brained. I hope to see it again, completed, and make another personal judgement then.
That evening we returned to the hostel and cooked a proper meal of pasta (having subsisted on fruit, tuna sandwiches, and salad for the entire festival) and then got boozed at the hostel with others. Alex and Irene from the Venice hostel randomly turned up, I've never spoken so much Russian in my recent life as I have on this trip!
Another too-early wakeup call on Wednesday morning to get to the train station by Metro, to catch the bus to Reus airport (one of two 'Barcelona' airports Ryanair flies out of). Thank goodness we didn't just wait out the front of the station, as the bus left from a mostly-obscured stop that you can't see on exiting the station. Luckily we got the bus for the earlier Ryanair flight, which saved us some stress when traffic made the journey 2 hours instead of 1.5.
So we played 500 in the carpark of this tinny little regional airport underneath a tree, packed and re-packed our stuffs, and went to check-in. Joe came in 1kg over allowance (€15), and I came in 0.5 under! This was despite having picked up a 3kg tent - i did it by putting everything heavy into my hand luggage, it's the Ryanair way! The flight ended up being delayed an hour, which through out Kieran's pickup at the London Luton end.
Then when we landed the queue for non-EU passports took about 45 minutes, and after some probing questions, that had all taken so long that our bags were nowhere to be seen. Because Luton is a hellhole budget airline airport, there were of course no airline staff round, so we just had to watch all four baggage carousels until, finally our bags appeared. Relief! Then Joe met his sister and we parted ways on different trains, Joe for London and me for Bedford, where I saw Kieran for the first time in at least two years.
He drove me to the quaint village of Riseley, which as Menna (Kieran's girlfriend) calls it, is 'gateway to the whops'. But it is a great wee place, got the walking tour round the village yesterday from Menna (she grew up here) and saw houses built in the 1400s and 1500s and a Norman church from the 1100s - amazing! The night I arrived, I'd been in the village two minutes before Kieran pulled over to say hello to some cricketing mates, and I was instantly recruited into the team.
The game was last night on the village green. We had 3 players plus 4 ring-ins, against Henlow's B-team of 11 men. They smashed 124 off 16 overs, but not before a few nice dismissals. Kieran was keeping and got a great single-handed catch down leg side, while I caught the captain out at backward square leg for a golden duck! Nobody was more surprised than I... Our batting performance was atrocious, all out for 21, so we lost handsomely. Then over to the pub for an excellent steak burger to put us all to sleep.
FIB day 4 and the dramatic escape from Benicassim
Sunday we went to the beach as usual, via discovering that one of the supermarkets was closed on Sundays, and the other had closed before we got there. Never mind, paid higher prices somewhere else...
Before the nights proceedings we met Joe's girlfriend Joelle's friends from London, Marcia and Renee. Classic case of 3 degrees - they'd studied in, or knew, the Canterbury polisci department. And they fed and watered us very well.
Sunday (highlights in bold)
The National - so great to finally see them live. They were in the big tent which totally could have backfired (it almost did due to persistent technical difficulties on that stage) but they pulled it off. The music isn't naturally crowd-moving, but it did succeed and the performance, especially by the vocalist Matt Berninger, was compelling.
Leonard Cohen - wasn't expecting to stick around for all of this, but the show turned out to be quite charming despite the inherent cheesiness of an ultra-polished session band. Played a good mix of the hits (Hallelujah, So Long Marianne) and some that I didn't recognise but did enjoy.
Micah P Hinson - according to Joe his recordings are great, live his three-piece was a little 1998 Rockquest.
Richard Hawley - great old-school rock and roll, full stop. Told us we were the best festival crowd they'd ever played, and for once I believed somebody saying that.
Justice (Live) - absolute madness in and around the big tent, we stayed for about five or six songs including their iconic remix of "Never Be Alone" by Simian.
Morrissey - a disappointment. I'm a big Smiths fan, and for I'm not sure what reason, I always came down on the Johnny Marr side of the band's messy breakup. Maybe it's because I'm a guitarist that loves the way he played on those records, or maybe just because he's not a tosser. Steven is a tosser and his banter (anti-techno, pro-vegetarian, possibly a dash of racism in there), while electrifying the English, was groan-worthy for the rest of us.
After that we went back to camp to drink some more wine, then hit the hay. 7 am wakeup call, packed up our stuff, walked to the station. Thank god for overcast and cool temperatures. Reason for so early was that 20,000 people try to leave Benicassim the day after the festival (camping continues for another 3 days), half each for Barcelona and Valencia, and even though this was the 14th FIB, renfe (Spanish train company) hasn't got the idea that YOU NEED TO PUT ON MORE TRAINS TO COPE WITH DEMAND!!!
We were first in the queue and lucky to have a door right in front of us when the train stopped. After much pushing and jostling Joe and I both managed seats, but the rest of the train filled up completely. The doors kept trying to close and stopping when people were in the way. Eventually the unlucky ones had to step off, resign themselves to the fact they would miss their flights, and we were underway. I felt bad for the Spanish people who then couldn't get on the train later down the line - we FIBers represented at that time the very worst of unsustainable tourism. When we got to L'Aldea an hour later, we piled onto the platform and then onto another regional train 20 minutes later. This one was less full, but filled up to practically overflowing as we approached Barcelona. Talked to some English guys about horse racing.
Arriving at Barcelona Sants 3.5 hours after we left Benicassim was basically a miracle, Joe and I had little idea how we'd managed to arrive both together and safely. The Metro to our hostel was a dream, and the hostel was pretty nice too. After a nap we got some pastries from the place downstairs and some beers from the hostel, and took a walk down the main avenues towards the water, and back again to sleep.
Before the nights proceedings we met Joe's girlfriend Joelle's friends from London, Marcia and Renee. Classic case of 3 degrees - they'd studied in, or knew, the Canterbury polisci department. And they fed and watered us very well.
Sunday (highlights in bold)
The National - so great to finally see them live. They were in the big tent which totally could have backfired (it almost did due to persistent technical difficulties on that stage) but they pulled it off. The music isn't naturally crowd-moving, but it did succeed and the performance, especially by the vocalist Matt Berninger, was compelling.
Leonard Cohen - wasn't expecting to stick around for all of this, but the show turned out to be quite charming despite the inherent cheesiness of an ultra-polished session band. Played a good mix of the hits (Hallelujah, So Long Marianne) and some that I didn't recognise but did enjoy.
Micah P Hinson - according to Joe his recordings are great, live his three-piece was a little 1998 Rockquest.
Richard Hawley - great old-school rock and roll, full stop. Told us we were the best festival crowd they'd ever played, and for once I believed somebody saying that.
Justice (Live) - absolute madness in and around the big tent, we stayed for about five or six songs including their iconic remix of "Never Be Alone" by Simian.
Morrissey - a disappointment. I'm a big Smiths fan, and for I'm not sure what reason, I always came down on the Johnny Marr side of the band's messy breakup. Maybe it's because I'm a guitarist that loves the way he played on those records, or maybe just because he's not a tosser. Steven is a tosser and his banter (anti-techno, pro-vegetarian, possibly a dash of racism in there), while electrifying the English, was groan-worthy for the rest of us.
After that we went back to camp to drink some more wine, then hit the hay. 7 am wakeup call, packed up our stuff, walked to the station. Thank god for overcast and cool temperatures. Reason for so early was that 20,000 people try to leave Benicassim the day after the festival (camping continues for another 3 days), half each for Barcelona and Valencia, and even though this was the 14th FIB, renfe (Spanish train company) hasn't got the idea that YOU NEED TO PUT ON MORE TRAINS TO COPE WITH DEMAND!!!
We were first in the queue and lucky to have a door right in front of us when the train stopped. After much pushing and jostling Joe and I both managed seats, but the rest of the train filled up completely. The doors kept trying to close and stopping when people were in the way. Eventually the unlucky ones had to step off, resign themselves to the fact they would miss their flights, and we were underway. I felt bad for the Spanish people who then couldn't get on the train later down the line - we FIBers represented at that time the very worst of unsustainable tourism. When we got to L'Aldea an hour later, we piled onto the platform and then onto another regional train 20 minutes later. This one was less full, but filled up to practically overflowing as we approached Barcelona. Talked to some English guys about horse racing.
Arriving at Barcelona Sants 3.5 hours after we left Benicassim was basically a miracle, Joe and I had little idea how we'd managed to arrive both together and safely. The Metro to our hostel was a dream, and the hostel was pretty nice too. After a nap we got some pastries from the place downstairs and some beers from the hostel, and took a walk down the main avenues towards the water, and back again to sleep.
Sunday, 20 July 2008
FIB days 1, 2 & 3
I'll cover the day-time activities at the festival in one go:
9:30am - wake up sweating
10am - head to beach via supermarket for water and food
11:30am - arrive beach, try get shade
11:30-5pm - swim, rest
5pm - head back to camp via supermarket and salad tv dinner in the square
8pm - arrive at camp, cold shower, hit the €1.30 red wine
9pm - head into festival venue
So who have I seen and what did I think? Highlights are in bold...
Thursday
Nada Surf - got the crowd going but nothing spectacular
Sigur Ros - 8 rows from front. One of my must-sees at FIB. Did well to please a festival crowd that wanted "all the hits" (such as they are) but that cost their set the cohesiveness evident in their albums. Now I really want to see them in a setting of their own choosing, playing an album start to finish.
Black Lips - 5-10 rows from front. Dirty dirty punky rock, favourites of Vice Magazine. Massive mosh pit fun with goodnatured pushing and shoving. Joe lost (and regained) both a shoe and his glasses.
Battles - pushed through to 5 rows from front. Amazing set. Most there didn't get them, we did and it was awesome. Unbelievable that this music can be played live.
Friday
Babyshambles - the 50,000 brits here all went to see Pete, and we didn't.
El Guincho - great boogie to this spanish guy from the canaries who mixes electronica with live drumming and crazy singing.
New York Dolls - saw half a song, way past it, and they sound nothing like interpol.
Hot Chip - 5 rows from front in the biggest dance tent ive ever seen. Hit after hit, so nice to see geeks making music and having thousands of people in the palms of their hands. Crazy crazy dancing and facepaint with 'our gang'
My Bloody Valentine - must be broke, they reformed just to play 'Loveless' to the gathered faithful. It was their first and last album, and was so good it both defined 90s shoegaze indie and destroyed the band. Hearing it live was a bit depressing so only listened to a few songs.
Danton Eeprom - another amazing dancey time in the big tent, this time with time to move and breath. Minimal techy house, pulled off live with aplomb and not a downbeat in sight.
Saturday (last night)
Brian Jonestown Massacre - nothing happening, stuck in the 1990s. Don't recommend attending the chch gig unless you like their recordings.
American Music Club - ok, but soft and a bit Counting Crows for my taste.
My Morning Jacket - 3 rows from front, great set for the fans (not that many hence easy to get close). New stuff not so sure, old stuff magic.
Raconteurs - 5 rows, and a let down. Pushed out past people who were severely pissed that we were getting out of their way...weird.
More from Barcelona when we get there tomorrow...
9:30am - wake up sweating
10am - head to beach via supermarket for water and food
11:30am - arrive beach, try get shade
11:30-5pm - swim, rest
5pm - head back to camp via supermarket and salad tv dinner in the square
8pm - arrive at camp, cold shower, hit the €1.30 red wine
9pm - head into festival venue
So who have I seen and what did I think? Highlights are in bold...
Thursday
Nada Surf - got the crowd going but nothing spectacular
Sigur Ros - 8 rows from front. One of my must-sees at FIB. Did well to please a festival crowd that wanted "all the hits" (such as they are) but that cost their set the cohesiveness evident in their albums. Now I really want to see them in a setting of their own choosing, playing an album start to finish.
Black Lips - 5-10 rows from front. Dirty dirty punky rock, favourites of Vice Magazine. Massive mosh pit fun with goodnatured pushing and shoving. Joe lost (and regained) both a shoe and his glasses.
Battles - pushed through to 5 rows from front. Amazing set. Most there didn't get them, we did and it was awesome. Unbelievable that this music can be played live.
Friday
Babyshambles - the 50,000 brits here all went to see Pete, and we didn't.
El Guincho - great boogie to this spanish guy from the canaries who mixes electronica with live drumming and crazy singing.
New York Dolls - saw half a song, way past it, and they sound nothing like interpol.
Hot Chip - 5 rows from front in the biggest dance tent ive ever seen. Hit after hit, so nice to see geeks making music and having thousands of people in the palms of their hands. Crazy crazy dancing and facepaint with 'our gang'
My Bloody Valentine - must be broke, they reformed just to play 'Loveless' to the gathered faithful. It was their first and last album, and was so good it both defined 90s shoegaze indie and destroyed the band. Hearing it live was a bit depressing so only listened to a few songs.
Danton Eeprom - another amazing dancey time in the big tent, this time with time to move and breath. Minimal techy house, pulled off live with aplomb and not a downbeat in sight.
Saturday (last night)
Brian Jonestown Massacre - nothing happening, stuck in the 1990s. Don't recommend attending the chch gig unless you like their recordings.
American Music Club - ok, but soft and a bit Counting Crows for my taste.
My Morning Jacket - 3 rows from front, great set for the fans (not that many hence easy to get close). New stuff not so sure, old stuff magic.
Raconteurs - 5 rows, and a let down. Pushed out past people who were severely pissed that we were getting out of their way...weird.
More from Barcelona when we get there tomorrow...
Friday, 18 July 2008
Ryanair, Valencia and getting to Benicassim
The Ryanair experience begins on their crazy website, which has so many advertisements its hard to trust it when you put your credit card details in. It continues at the airport...one feels in the middle of one of those popular late-90s UK airport show. Thankfully I was 2 kgs under so no troubles checking in...but almost everyone else was having to put on three jumpers, seven belts, and put shoes into their carry-on luggage.
You get to the plane by bus...packed in like sardines. Everyone is in a gigantic hurry to get the best seats (whatever they are) as seating is not pre-assigned. Kudos to Ryanair for an amazing business model: low fares on face value, pay-for luggage, and no assigned seating means they save on fuel, plus everyone RUNS to get on the plane. That helps them get away on time. On the plane the advertising onslaught continues, and the seats don't recline. But having said all that, they get you there on time.
Valencia airport is wondeful, and the metro is soooo good, one of the best i've taken yet. It doesnt yet go into the old city but will soon, so there was a wee bit of a hike to the hostel to meet Joe. Another great hostel experience, heaps of character and super-helpful staff. They told us where to buy a cheap tent for the festival, and it was done within the hour. Joe and I got on swimmingly, like always. Went out to one of the oldest family-owned tapas bars in the city, which was delicious and great, then along to Flamenco night at Radio City (again on recommendation of hostel). To be perfectly honest, we were there to see spanish women dancing in frilly skirts. Instead we got four sweaty men in the band, and an even sweatier man doing the dancing. Impressive but a let-down nonetheless. Then we wandered back to the hostel with the two other kiwis in our room (!!!), both Londonites.
Next morning we went and bough train tickets and some groceries, and a croissant for €0.50 from the amazing market across the street. Its under cover and has at least 100 stalls. I think its instead of a supermarket, because they really only have 7/11 type stores in the city. Valencia was great, is very alive all the time with narrow winding streets and heaps of bars. I hope to visit again with more time.
In the queue for the train we met a classic american guy, a trainee pilot from Atlanta, Georgia who talks like a wannabe gansta. Through security (side-effect of Madrid 05 bombings) and onto the train, called the 'Talgo' service. I think Talgo means "built in the 1980s, not particularly comfortable or fast, but quite expensive anyway¨. An hour later we were at Benicassim station and it was (only) 40-50 minutes walking/standing to get to our campsite. But we got there eventually, set up our tent (three person highly necessary with all our stuff), realised we were way underprepared compared to kiwi camping (when you have a car-load of stuff...) and buggered off to town. Thats also quite a hike, about 25-30 minutes, but worth it for the beach.
Dodgey camping food for dinner - sandwiches with tuna, cheese tomato, and the best cheap red wine you've ever tasted for €1.28 a bottle. Ow!!! We tried to sleep but were kept up by our neighbours, who I almost correctly picked as from Blackpool (id said manchester based on accents and music playing) who were drinking until about 4pm. But managed to get a few weeks at least before RAIN (!!!) woke us up at about 7am. Thank god we bought a decent tent and didn't just rough it.
The best thing about Benicassim as a town is that there is NOTHING to do except write emails, buy and eat food, and sit on the beach and look at continental european girls. Presumably due to the temperature (im sure its not been below 20 at night and 35 during the day) the music starts at 8pm and goes through to 4am. Its hell i tell ya...
I'm writing this after one night of festival music, so am still a few days behind on the blogging, but will report later today on night one (Sigur Ros and Battles...)
You get to the plane by bus...packed in like sardines. Everyone is in a gigantic hurry to get the best seats (whatever they are) as seating is not pre-assigned. Kudos to Ryanair for an amazing business model: low fares on face value, pay-for luggage, and no assigned seating means they save on fuel, plus everyone RUNS to get on the plane. That helps them get away on time. On the plane the advertising onslaught continues, and the seats don't recline. But having said all that, they get you there on time.
Valencia airport is wondeful, and the metro is soooo good, one of the best i've taken yet. It doesnt yet go into the old city but will soon, so there was a wee bit of a hike to the hostel to meet Joe. Another great hostel experience, heaps of character and super-helpful staff. They told us where to buy a cheap tent for the festival, and it was done within the hour. Joe and I got on swimmingly, like always. Went out to one of the oldest family-owned tapas bars in the city, which was delicious and great, then along to Flamenco night at Radio City (again on recommendation of hostel). To be perfectly honest, we were there to see spanish women dancing in frilly skirts. Instead we got four sweaty men in the band, and an even sweatier man doing the dancing. Impressive but a let-down nonetheless. Then we wandered back to the hostel with the two other kiwis in our room (!!!), both Londonites.
Next morning we went and bough train tickets and some groceries, and a croissant for €0.50 from the amazing market across the street. Its under cover and has at least 100 stalls. I think its instead of a supermarket, because they really only have 7/11 type stores in the city. Valencia was great, is very alive all the time with narrow winding streets and heaps of bars. I hope to visit again with more time.
In the queue for the train we met a classic american guy, a trainee pilot from Atlanta, Georgia who talks like a wannabe gansta. Through security (side-effect of Madrid 05 bombings) and onto the train, called the 'Talgo' service. I think Talgo means "built in the 1980s, not particularly comfortable or fast, but quite expensive anyway¨. An hour later we were at Benicassim station and it was (only) 40-50 minutes walking/standing to get to our campsite. But we got there eventually, set up our tent (three person highly necessary with all our stuff), realised we were way underprepared compared to kiwi camping (when you have a car-load of stuff...) and buggered off to town. Thats also quite a hike, about 25-30 minutes, but worth it for the beach.
Dodgey camping food for dinner - sandwiches with tuna, cheese tomato, and the best cheap red wine you've ever tasted for €1.28 a bottle. Ow!!! We tried to sleep but were kept up by our neighbours, who I almost correctly picked as from Blackpool (id said manchester based on accents and music playing) who were drinking until about 4pm. But managed to get a few weeks at least before RAIN (!!!) woke us up at about 7am. Thank god we bought a decent tent and didn't just rough it.
The best thing about Benicassim as a town is that there is NOTHING to do except write emails, buy and eat food, and sit on the beach and look at continental european girls. Presumably due to the temperature (im sure its not been below 20 at night and 35 during the day) the music starts at 8pm and goes through to 4am. Its hell i tell ya...
I'm writing this after one night of festival music, so am still a few days behind on the blogging, but will report later today on night one (Sigur Ros and Battles...)
Thursday, 17 July 2008
Firenze
I arrived to Florence on Sunday evening after another good train ride through the Tuscan countryside. Train travel is so nice: no security checks required, and no waiting around at the station at either end.
Florence struck me immediately as a very different city to Venice...aka "things are happening that aren't tourism" - most of the people around at that time of evening are Italians living their lives.
Walked the 20 mins to where google maps said my hostel would be, only to get lost again. In venice it's several names for each street, in florence it's two sequences of numbers for each street, black and red. I had just told google '104' and that had defaulted to 104-red, a few blocks down from 104-black. But when i found it, Ostello D'Gallo Oro was amazing. A friendly 'ciao bello' on entering, and just the most laid-back atmosphere. The room was great, with shared bathroom and a balcony. Met Baz from Perth, who is on 13 weeks long service leave after working 7 years as an IT project manager for the WA state goverment. I told him that our labour laws had been somewhat more liberalised in the 90s and we joked about life as public servants. Also did the whyPhD/whyAcademia/whyUSA spiel for about the 200th time in the last three months. Getting those business/life story cards printed any day now... The hostel also had free internet, free distilled water, and free breakfast - ace!
I woke up early monday morning hoping to hit the galleries, only to discover monday is the city's attractions' day off...bugger. So Monday was church day, visited about 4-5 cathedrals in the central city, Duomo excluded (big queues by time i got there). The buildings were amazing. I'm not a big fan of renaissance art, because of the repetitive subject matter, nor am i religious, but something about those buildings made my spine tingle. Probably just the cool temperature.
After churches, the Palazzo Vecchio (where David stood until the late 1800s, there's now a copy there), and being mistaken several times for an Italian (highest compliment for a tourist, prob something to do with my facial hair, sunglasses and two necklaces), i crossed the Arno river on one of the 'new' bridges. All but the Ponto Vecchio were destroyed by the retreating germans in 1944.
Then up the hill to Pallazo Michaelangelo, which has a view over Florence that i think is better than the city itself. Terracotta roofs, punctuated by church domes and towers, with the hills of Tuscany behind. Also up there was some kind of Korean wedding party: couldn't quite work out if there were multiple brides and grooms because everyone was to the nines, and the locals and tourists alike were fascinated. A short walk later i was at the highest church above the city, and then continued around the hills on Galileo Galilee drive. Loads of cars but no pedestrians so i had the pavement and flora to myself. Then it was down through some nice gardens, also to myself apart from the aforementioned wedding party(s), and back into the city.
After about 4-5 hours walking in the heat i needed a good rest back at base, but not before meeting the two kiwis (!!!) in my room, both cops in South Auckland who reckon John Keys will be good for the police and fuel prices. I said i hoped he could deliver on what he's promised the Police Association...which is probably nothing and everything yet. Popped to the pizzeria down the road with other roommate Christian from Austria, a political science student, so thats what we talked about.
Tuesday morning i slept in, took a last stroll round the neighbourhood, realised once and for all that the real Tuscany (and Italy) must be outside the cities, despite their obvious beauty, and got on the train to Pisa airport. Might have got to tower and back, but decided it safer to leave that sight for another day.
Arrividerci Italy, i'll be back asap for some closer inspection!
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Venezia
The transition from Swiss Alps to Italian Alps was predictably noticeable. Carbinieri checked (the existence of) passports while the engine was changed up front. We were running behind schedule after the first italian stop, because italian stops are one cigarette in length, not the swiss two minutes.
Changed train in Milan, an industrial wasteland as everybody says. Forgot to weigh bananas in the fruit area of supermarket so had my first yelling-at experience at the checkout. Train to Venice was unremarkable: hills, villas, the odd turret.
Arriving into venice is as spectacular as it must have been for the past 500 years. These days across the causeway, but if you think of Shakespeare and ignore the parked cruise ships you can almost see the fleets arrived with spices from the east.
Despite my hostel being just across the canal from station, it still took 20 mins to find. Streets in Venice have a few different names with multiple doors at one number. Eventually got it, and what a hostel it was. €35 gets you air conditioning in your room, fridge, great bathroom, and a real bed. Met Americans Dave (just finished PhD molecular genetics) and Daniel (masters biomedical science, just finished military service in Taiwan) and we went for dinner at a good cheap place where the pasta fresca is cooking in front of you with ample oil...delicious.
Back at hostel we met Americans Alex and Irene, originally from Ukraine and Belarus, now in LA doing programming and family therapy. And Laura, an Aussie over from London just for the weekend. Walked around for ages trying to find a not-too-trendy not-too-touristy bar. Ended up at an Irish pub! Alex outdrank me 3 to 2, proving he was in fact Ukrainian.
The next morning Daniel, Dave, Laura and i began our super-trek around Venice, taking in all the sights and trying to avoid other tourists as much as possible. Alex and Irene had given us the name of a mysterious photographer/boatdriver called silvio, who'd taken them on a three-hour boat tour for €100 total, cf the same each for a slow-as 40 minute gondola ride.
Sadly when we found the spot we got a thunderstorm and downpour instead of Silvio. So we soldiered on towards San Marco and weren't disappointed by the spectacle. By now pretty hungry, lunch was at a small corner cafe serving great foccaccia sandwiches for €3.50. Then across the street for the darkest chocolate icecream ever. The old adage stands true: trust the locals' choices and you can't go wrong...the tourist traps are so obvious. They're the ones with 'menu turistico' on the board outside. The locals are obvious, anybody with a newspaper and/or walking stick and no camera. I wonder what they must think of their city's invasion by the rest of Europe (and the world).
Several times we railed against the presence of so many tourists. But thats like railing against all the other cars on the road. In the end a night and a day in Venice was the perfect length of stay. I'd visit again, but outside peak season.
We got back to the hostel about 3pm, then up the road for a quick beer before jumping on the train to Florence.
Saturday, 12 July 2008
Postscript Geneve
Just done the geneve-lausanne route for 4th time, this time on the way to Milan.
My roommates last night were classic: two brit schoolkids on some kind of UN trip, and two mexicans youngins on a tour round europe. Brit 1 was talkative...after school he wants to go travelling, to New Zealand to 'stay with a Maori tribe' . We then all played Texas Hold'em (the most luck-ridden of all the pokers) and though youthful exuberance won out in the end, it wasn't before sage 20-something wisdom had double-bluffed the entire table a couple of times. After that i took a walk along the lake shore in the rain. Its not unusual in Geneve to pass a parked porsche and ferrari in quick succession - the wealth drips from everywhere and it is very international city (aka heaps of tacky themed restaurants). Went to a kebab shop for dinner, serving NZ lamb. Then i wandered back to hostel (did i say how great this hostel was?) to undertake the most glamorous part of the backpacker experience...laundry. Thankfully the system was made by germans and run by swiss, so worked perfectly.
Following free breakfast (take all complimentaries possible in Switz) i jumped on this train to Venice via Milan. There is a tortured middle-aged English man in my carriage that for god knows what reason has decided to take his elderly mother travelling. The scene could not be more Coronation St meets every other nightmare soap. Note to parents: if you travel in the third age it will be in the care of trained professionals.
Also on the train is a little Italian boy whose musical book plays Frere Jacques in Italian. I grinmace (mock grimace) along with the young French family i'm sitting with. If only i could tell them we learn the original back home. There is a sense of failure when admitting ne p.v. francais, i promise to know more on my return.
Overall i have really enjoyed my time in French Suisse. The pace of life is hectic and leisurely at the same time, something Anglo-influenced cultures strive but fail to achieve for whatever reason. It has been very very expensive, especially the conference, but i'm glad i came. Without the conference i probably wouldn't have left home early for this holiday. I'm already learning how to relax properly again, after too many months on the edge.
About to head into the Alps, more from Italia soon...
mega-post - Lausanne and conference
The previous post was written on my cell on the train, and just after sending it I fell asleep and slept through Lausanne stop, waking up 7 minutes after it, and was stuck there til Geneve. Thankfully I could jump on a train straight back...
I walked up to my accommodation and met Doris Getaz, proprietor of Ada-logements B&B. She was classic...and I wished I could have spoken French to her. She did speak English but I'm sure something was lost. The room was small but very nice, about the best you can get for CHF50 (NZ70) a night in Lausanne. 8 of the 45 television channels had the Tour on, and another had overdubbed McLeod's daughters - surreal! I was so tired I slept through the conference pre-drinks, but never mind.
The next morning I made several convincing bonjours in the breakfast room...enough to convince people a) that i spoke French and b) was tired and didn't want to talk to them in French. The language thing hit me harder than expected - not because it made anything particularly difficult, but simply because of the mixed opportunities for local conversation with the locals. Will have to be tooled up when I visit again...
After a stroll to the Metro in the summer sun (free ticket for all tourists staying in Swiss cities) the Metro sped me to Ecole Polytechnique Federal de Lausanne (EFPL), officially the most
confusingly-laid-out university I've ever visited. All buildings seemed to be 'building C' (the one I needed to be in) yet all I could find were dangerous-looking labs. Eventually I found somebody to direct me upstairs.
I presented in the first session, and though I think I delivered well, the audience was far from electrified. Probably never going to happen at a conference on e-government though. I did however make several useful contacts, including the Director of Standards Srategy and Policy at Oracle UK. Apart from the contacts, most of the content was far out of my field and not much higher standard than one would expect in NZ/AUS.
After resting back at B&B at the end of the day, I woke up late and almost missed the conference dinner. I ran to the station and looked for the metro line to take me to Ouchy (shore district) that was on the map. Sadly it hasn't yet been built and its just a bus for the moment. It got me on the boat 3 minutes before sailing though, so good enough.
The cruise itself was almost painfullly picturesque: just imagine every photo you've seen of Swiss hills and vineyards composited together and that was it, enough to make you cry. Dinner was 1) salad, 2) bread cutlets with soup poured over them (even my french dining companions were confused), 3) sauerkraut and sausage, 4) meringue. Very good, and probably the main reason conference was so expensive...
The boat berthed back at Ouchy at exactly 11 (bless the Swiss), after passing Montreux (jazz festival currently on, and the subject of Deep Purple's 'smoke on the water'), the village of Evian, and standing on the bow watching thunderstorms to the north.
This morning nothing interesting was being presented so I slept in and went to an internet cafe to catch up on ~50 emails. Got back to B&B in time to see Doris' note "check out 11am" on the door. I handed the key back to her at exactly 11 with a sense of swiss satisfaction. Lunch was gaspacho, fish, and fruit salad, again good.
The afternoon session scared me shitless - an expert on electronic voting machines told us just how shoddy the standards, specifications, manufacturing, and independent certification. He predicts a 15% chance that the upcoming US election will be stricken by evoting maching difficulties in at least one crucial state. Floria2000-Ohio2004 anybody?
In general the conference participants were obsessed with the 'e' of e-government, to the point that some view adoption of ICT in government to be simply a technical challenge. Pain pain pained me as a political scientist to see this naievety (sic) from smart people. But I did have some great conversations about why there is e-government for certain thing for which there is actually no need for government - a refreshing dose of skepticism. No point having toys for the sake of toys. It was these people that turned into useful contacts. After attending 3 interdisciplinary conferences now I have serious doubts about their value to me as a political scientist. It just seems that while multiple perspectives are interesting and important, the various contributors don't seem to speak enough of the same academic language to really make headway.
Departing Lausanne involved a hasty back-pack re-arrange and clothes-change before heading down the road to do battle, sans francais, with La Poste. You can't pay with credit card, and there is a ticket-queuing machine, but in the end we worked together and got some of my dead-weight sent forward.
The train to Geneve today was 'slow' and 'old', and after arriving I had a pleasant stroll down Rue de Lausanne in the thunderstorm, before heading out for some dinner and the glamour of backpacker laundry. A few additional remarks to come soon...off to Venezia via Milan tomorrow morning.
Finally on a real computer in geneve for this mega-post
Thursday, 10 July 2008
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
4 cool things about Zurich
From my 3 hours in the city i have to say:
*Nice job with the public transport! Especially trains which really do run exactly on time, with announcements in german, french, english to help the plebs like me.
* Yes food is expensive, but get over it already... Switzerland has the highest per-capita gdp so what'd you expect?
* A certain understated extravagance 'yeah we're filthy rich but we don't flash it 24/7'
* Endless narrow medieval alleyways to explore (in daylight)
*Nice job with the public transport! Especially trains which really do run exactly on time, with announcements in german, french, english to help the plebs like me.
* Yes food is expensive, but get over it already... Switzerland has the highest per-capita gdp so what'd you expect?
* A certain understated extravagance 'yeah we're filthy rich but we don't flash it 24/7'
* Endless narrow medieval alleyways to explore (in daylight)
Flight from Singapore was good...screaming kids replaced by swiss health freaks who opened their windowshades at 5am, flooding the cabin with beige light. 777-300ER has even bigger and quieter engines, and outfitted with brand new entertainment system (better technology than AirNZ but few things worth watching). Lost 30 games of chess against computer, mostly because i can't move in <5 seconds every time and therefore blew out the clock by the endgame... Made the 5 victories all the sweeter.
Now on a train to Lausanne, a real bed and the conference opening drinks. This is the life!
PS - this was sent from my cell via vodafone email, but gmail mobile still not working so replies will remain sporadic.
Singapore T3 Transit Hotel rocks!
Flight from Christchurch to Singapore was ok, but not the best of doze-offs. Listening to Sigur Ros made me a bit teary for family and home. I did however watch all 213 minutes of Ben Hur. Apart from some very hammy acting in parts I thought it was excellent, and the chariot race at the end is a testament to the realism possible with 'low-tech' production techniques. It was probably a little ahead of its time too, portraying progressive attitudes to leprosy (it's not actually contagious) and strong historical Jewish-Muslim relations when Palestine/Israel was Roman.
I'm not very good at optimising my airport experiences. I like to have plenty of time between flights, and I like to be through security etc early so I don't miss any flights. But when you have all that time you just wander endlessly and pointlessly. And often, like today, fate lands me a 6-hour stopover when leaving the airport is not an option.
Never fear, Singapore Changi is here! Thanks to Rachel and Mike's excellent tip, I came to the Transit Hotel in Terminal Three and paid S$30 (NZ$30) for: use of their gym (treadmill, cycle, weights did me world of good), loan of gym clothes and shoes (not too naff), good shower, free soft drinks and food, free Mr Bean, and free email. Yussssssssssssssss. One day I'll get that airport lounge membership that this experience so desperately demonstrates I need...
Two hours til boarding for Zurich, next post from Europe!
I'm not very good at optimising my airport experiences. I like to have plenty of time between flights, and I like to be through security etc early so I don't miss any flights. But when you have all that time you just wander endlessly and pointlessly. And often, like today, fate lands me a 6-hour stopover when leaving the airport is not an option.
Never fear, Singapore Changi is here! Thanks to Rachel and Mike's excellent tip, I came to the Transit Hotel in Terminal Three and paid S$30 (NZ$30) for: use of their gym (treadmill, cycle, weights did me world of good), loan of gym clothes and shoes (not too naff), good shower, free soft drinks and food, free Mr Bean, and free email. Yussssssssssssssss. One day I'll get that airport lounge membership that this experience so desperately demonstrates I need...
Two hours til boarding for Zurich, next post from Europe!
Monday, 7 July 2008
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