Well, after a couple of days doing very little near Dresden, other than getting surreptitiously baked in the middle of a family campsite and reading about child-murdering French satanists, I've finally moved on and am in Prague. I did stop in Dresden briefly and can't say I was wildly impressed. It's exactly that sort of tedious Baroque nonsense that really bores me to tears. For all its putative refinement the Baroque is hugely crude in its overstatement of everything it has to say; it's the sort of thing a provincial housewife would have as an ornament on the mantelpiece. The Albertinum museum is pretty cool though - an incredible piece of architecture with some quite good pieces in the collection.
Prague has gone startlingly well so far. Somewhat against my better judgement I took advantage of the Schengen Agreement's consequences for border controls without any ill effects. Not an experiment I will be repeating but helpful in this instance. After driving across the rather monotonous Czech landscape and fighting with an out-of-date sat-nav route through the centre of Prague, I made it to an implausible campsite quite near the centre of Prague; it's essentially in the garden of a hostel and it's very cool. I was greeted by the owner dressed in full red indian costume as he emerged from the giant teepee. Hugely friendly reception. Reggie did me proud once again: immediately the centre of attention. But in this case it wasn't just the usual - they are getting a promotional film made in two days time and their new logo is a pale blue VW bus! There was talk of significant discounts if I stay around so Reggie can be in the film... think I might well stick around and see what happens :-) And... Free Wifi. And... ice cold draught Czech beer for 50p a half litre 15 paces from my bus. Wow.
Thursday, 15 July 2010
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Berlin
The temptation to chronicle is a strong one. Through recounting what we have done we chalk up credit in the competition for the richness of our experience. It is also an easy route to finding commonality with our fellows - for what more quickly oils a conversation than the realisation that one has shared the same experience (or a very similar one) as one's interlocutor?
But the chronicle is the coward's introduction. It recounts everything and communicates nothing. It is a manifesto that allows the reader to believe whatever they will of the author. Res gestae... but who other than the more absurdly stoical of the Romans would care more for what was done than what it meant to those who did (or suffered) it?
3 days spent in Berlin yielded a glittering shoal of incredible experiences, but I will not recount them. As in cooking, a tiny drop of the distilled essence yields a more vibrant and memorable experience than a giant bowl of the original broth. What, then, is the essence of Berlin?
It is, without question, a city alive with possibilities. But that is true of many other major cities the world around; that is, in general, their attraction. Myriad avenues open to the adventurer, wandering through the shattered interferences of many cultures projected across one another. So what's the big deal then? In every other city I've ever been to, there's a sense of urgency about selecting a path and following it. The cost of choice is the compulsion to make it, and quickly. If you wander aimlessly you are judged for it; and on a practical level, you will generally exhaust your resources quickly: each of those avenues has its own support mechanisms, but they are exclusive and require your unquestioning commitment.
Berlin has no financial centre, it has no single dominant source of prosperity. Instead it has an acute awareness of the possibility of social disintegration, and the enormous human costs associated with it. The cut-throat fight for survival that characterises other major cities (are you rich enough? are you cool enough? have you got a story that will get you through?) has no place here. The square mile in London creates a vortex against which all other aspects of the city define themselves. "They may be rich but..." Berlin instead just has the possibilities, with no pressure to be one thing or another. Do what you have to do. Be who you want to be. See what happens.
You can see this in every aspect of the city, the food, the music, the bars, the clubs, the architecture (and what architecture!), the graffiti, the parties, the protests, the shapes, the people, the attitudes. There is a liberalism here that isn't struggling with a puritan fear of what might come of its own development; the extreme, the different, is welcomed, explored, enjoyed.
Berlin is, in essence, a celebration of what is possible.
But the chronicle is the coward's introduction. It recounts everything and communicates nothing. It is a manifesto that allows the reader to believe whatever they will of the author. Res gestae... but who other than the more absurdly stoical of the Romans would care more for what was done than what it meant to those who did (or suffered) it?
3 days spent in Berlin yielded a glittering shoal of incredible experiences, but I will not recount them. As in cooking, a tiny drop of the distilled essence yields a more vibrant and memorable experience than a giant bowl of the original broth. What, then, is the essence of Berlin?
It is, without question, a city alive with possibilities. But that is true of many other major cities the world around; that is, in general, their attraction. Myriad avenues open to the adventurer, wandering through the shattered interferences of many cultures projected across one another. So what's the big deal then? In every other city I've ever been to, there's a sense of urgency about selecting a path and following it. The cost of choice is the compulsion to make it, and quickly. If you wander aimlessly you are judged for it; and on a practical level, you will generally exhaust your resources quickly: each of those avenues has its own support mechanisms, but they are exclusive and require your unquestioning commitment.
Berlin has no financial centre, it has no single dominant source of prosperity. Instead it has an acute awareness of the possibility of social disintegration, and the enormous human costs associated with it. The cut-throat fight for survival that characterises other major cities (are you rich enough? are you cool enough? have you got a story that will get you through?) has no place here. The square mile in London creates a vortex against which all other aspects of the city define themselves. "They may be rich but..." Berlin instead just has the possibilities, with no pressure to be one thing or another. Do what you have to do. Be who you want to be. See what happens.
You can see this in every aspect of the city, the food, the music, the bars, the clubs, the architecture (and what architecture!), the graffiti, the parties, the protests, the shapes, the people, the attitudes. There is a liberalism here that isn't struggling with a puritan fear of what might come of its own development; the extreme, the different, is welcomed, explored, enjoyed.
Berlin is, in essence, a celebration of what is possible.
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
Germany!
After leaving Brussels last week I drove through southern Belgium. As anyone who has done so will I'm sure agree, this is not a life-affirming experience. About the only positive moment of the afternoon was driving past the Grundeshallen in Hasselt, site of the best indoor rave I've ever been to. There was something quite satisfying about driving on the very same ring road next to which Andy and I traipsed so despondently a couple of years ago, in search of an even that neither of us believed would be worth the effort of a highly traumatic trip. But other than that moment of happy memory, southern Belgium was a tedious industrial hell hole that I'd rather forget about.
Once into Germany, things started to pick up a bit. After a pretty long day's driving Reggie and I arrived at the Biggesee camp site, which is a quite big and regimented campsite but in a stunning location - in wooded hills on a large reservoir. After a very satisfactory lentil- and bacon-based dinner (there's something disproportionately satisfying about food cooked on a tiny cooker in constrained circumstances) I decided it was time to cast the spell which Katie had provided me with to keep me safe on my travels. Candles, incense, herbs and talismans... somewhat surreal but also rather satisfying. Time will tell if it's effective as well...
The next morning was almost absurdly idyllic. After a particularly fine breakfast and a swim in the lake I set off along the back roads through the hills and spent the next couple of hours meandering through swaying corn fields set into more wooded hillsides (there a so many trees here!) enlivened by the occasional picture-postcard village.
It seems too good to be real. I wonder if these places suffer from the same racism and intolerance that I found in the similarly idyllic parts of Austria; (un)fortunately I didn't stay long enough to find out. You can completely understand why people living in such parts of the world should wish to exclude outsiders and preserve the culture and values of the past at all costs - what they have now is at once so incredible and so delicate.
Eventually, however, the idyll had to end. Before getting back onto the Autobahn in an effort to make some serious progress towards Berlin I did my bit to disturb the local peace by stopping in a particularly pretty spot for lunch and having a small rave to some Shpongle. Lunch stop pictured left, there's a video of the mini-rave available here. By this point it was about 35 degrees in the shade and Reggie really didn't enjoy the (surprisingly hilly) motorway driving. In a bid to keep the temperature to vaguely manageable levels I did 50mph most of the way, which was an interesting experience on those stretches of the Autobahn which lack speed limits....
I finally made it to Berlin at about 11pm, by which point Alex had already retired to bed. Now camper vans are a brilliant idea in the country, but in a town, or worse, a large city, things start to become more problematic. Not having my bearings and unsure what would happen the next morning, I ended up parking on what I thought was a tolerably quiet street, pulling the curtains and attempting to manoeuvre myself into some sort of sleeping position without putting the roof up. I got to sleep after a few hours, only to be rudely awakened at 5 am when my illusions as to the "quiet" nature of the street were shattered by a constant stream of traffic. Happily, the discomforts of the first night in Berlin were very quickly forgotten when I started wandering around the next morning.... but that's another post.
It seems too good to be real. I wonder if these places suffer from the same racism and intolerance that I found in the similarly idyllic parts of Austria; (un)fortunately I didn't stay long enough to find out. You can completely understand why people living in such parts of the world should wish to exclude outsiders and preserve the culture and values of the past at all costs - what they have now is at once so incredible and so delicate.
I finally made it to Berlin at about 11pm, by which point Alex had already retired to bed. Now camper vans are a brilliant idea in the country, but in a town, or worse, a large city, things start to become more problematic. Not having my bearings and unsure what would happen the next morning, I ended up parking on what I thought was a tolerably quiet street, pulling the curtains and attempting to manoeuvre myself into some sort of sleeping position without putting the roof up. I got to sleep after a few hours, only to be rudely awakened at 5 am when my illusions as to the "quiet" nature of the street were shattered by a constant stream of traffic. Happily, the discomforts of the first night in Berlin were very quickly forgotten when I started wandering around the next morning.... but that's another post.
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
A forgetful first leg
I'm in Brussels now, staying with my friend Tristan. I arrived on Monday evening after a pretty long day's travelling. Things didn't start that well. I filled up at a petrol station on the A12 and forgot to put the petrol cap back on... oops. Fortunately Katie was driving behind me in her car for the first part of the journey and saw a) the fuel spilling out and b) the petrol cap slide off the roof and be punted to the side of the road by another car. We spent a delightful quarter of an hour rooting around in the dust and rubbish of the steep bank beside the dual carriageway looking for it. Eventually I decided to give it up as a lost cause (it was a big area, very overgrown and full of stuff thrown out by inconsiderate motorists), but I made one last pass across the top, scanning carefully - and there it was, stuck in a tree root! I felt the whole episode was actually quite a good omen in the end.
That put me back half an hour and I was pretty worried I wouldn't make the ferry; it's not like you can just drive a bit faster when you're late in a VW bus :-) But I got there by the skin of my teeth in the end. Last car on!
It's been a pretty relaxing day and half here in Brussels. A fair bit of sorting yesterday morning after the panicked departure on Monday, but worthwhile - I feel a lot more in control now. Had a bit of a wander into the centre of Brussels, danced to Carbon Based Lifeforms while waiting for the tram, to the bemusement of the locals, and then went out with Tristan to the rather splendid Toucan sur Mer brasserie in the evening.... where, as it turns out, I left my bag with my phone, bus keys and camera. Small panic this morning, followed by relieved recovery. Note to self: must keep it together a bit more.
Now I'm getting my stuff together for the journey to Berlin - after a lot of thinking I've decided to forgo Amsterdam this time; the opportunity to spend more time in Berlin when there's a friend living there who may be able to point me in the right directions is too good to pass up and after last weekend I'm not feeling quite so much in need of the sort of entertainment that Amsterdam can provide :-)
That put me back half an hour and I was pretty worried I wouldn't make the ferry; it's not like you can just drive a bit faster when you're late in a VW bus :-) But I got there by the skin of my teeth in the end. Last car on!
It's been a pretty relaxing day and half here in Brussels. A fair bit of sorting yesterday morning after the panicked departure on Monday, but worthwhile - I feel a lot more in control now. Had a bit of a wander into the centre of Brussels, danced to Carbon Based Lifeforms while waiting for the tram, to the bemusement of the locals, and then went out with Tristan to the rather splendid Toucan sur Mer brasserie in the evening.... where, as it turns out, I left my bag with my phone, bus keys and camera. Small panic this morning, followed by relieved recovery. Note to self: must keep it together a bit more.
Now I'm getting my stuff together for the journey to Berlin - after a lot of thinking I've decided to forgo Amsterdam this time; the opportunity to spend more time in Berlin when there's a friend living there who may be able to point me in the right directions is too good to pass up and after last weekend I'm not feeling quite so much in need of the sort of entertainment that Amsterdam can provide :-)
First outing for the costumes
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)