Berlin: Hipsters’ paradise.

Berlin is youthful, cheap, alternative, artsy and a mish-mash of styles.

East Side Gallery.

My trip to Berlin has been a varied one, I did a total of 10 days in the city. 5 of them before my partner in crime went back to Australia, 3 were on my lonesome after some time in Hamburg and 2 were a part of my tour to Russia, Scandinavia and the Baltic states. So i guess by now, I feel like I know the city pretty well. It’s a sprawling city and walking is not always an option, luckily (as expected) it has a great transit system. In my post about Amsterdam I mentioned that it was a place I could see myself living in. I have a similar feeling about Berlin, except that Berlin feels like a much more accesible city. One that anyone would find acceptance and their niche in. After Berlin was obliterated in WWII and then carved up by the Allies, the place needed to be rebuilt. What was created is a literal concrete jungle. Much of Berlin is still being built too. The city is a construction site with cranes poking out across all areas of the landscape. Most of my time here has been spent in the old ‘East’ Berlin, where most of the buildings are those concrete apartment blocks, they are not the prettiest to look at. Tall, imposing, square and often grey. But Berlin is not about looks, it has much more substance than style. Like any good romance, Berlin becomes more attractive the more you get to know it. The underground culture pulsates day and night. It’s a mass of cafes, restaurants, bars, theatres, craft markets and designer clothing shops. They all have an artsy edge and are filled with über fashionable Berliners sipping a latte, downing a beer or shopping for their quirky outfits. Most of the walls are covered in amazing street art, tags and posters for gigs that ended long ago. It’s dirty and grimey, but it’s so hip that it hurts. A mayor of the city described it as “poor but sexy”. Which is probably not the way you want to be described, but that’s OK because it means it is an inexpensive city to stay in and with cheap food and drink to sustain you.

Graffiti (Little Lucy top left).

Speaking of drinks, beer is cheaper than water here and as we discovered on a night out with some locals, can be drunk on the street. So when we didn’t like the band that was playing, we went to the bottle shop, got a beer for 80 cents and sat out the front of the bar and drank it before going back in to see the band we were interested in. Unheard of in Australia.  Another aspect of the alternative side to the city that appealed to me is that Berlin is a punk rock paradise. Shows are on all nights of the week for, you guessed it, really cheap. We were able to see Kris Rowe play an acoustic set at a bar called ‘Wild at Heart’ and White Lung tear ‘Magnet’ a new one. Also, I now have a lifetime entrance to The Ramones Museum. The exhibition was awesome and it only cost me 5 Euro with a beer. It had everything from their old jeans to rare t shirts, albums and photographs taken by their manager. The walls of the museum are covered with modern day musicians and bands paying their respects with everyone from Tegan and Sarah to Brody Dalle tagging the wall. This was a cool moment for me as The Ramones are most certainly one of my favourite bands.

The Ramones museum.

But it’s not all hipsters and punk shows. The amazing Brandenburg gate, which is a symbol of so much stands proudly in one of the city’s centres. The Reichstag was rebuilt with a modern twist and an amazing glass dome. The old museums are so grand that they rival many of the finer ones we’ve seen on our trip so far. The Tiergarden is a massive sanctuary for the city that covers a massive distance. Walking through here was like walking through a forest dotted with statues, fountains and people riding bikes. One of my favourite spots to relax was the Charlottenburg Schloss (palace) and its beautiful gardens. The Palace is gorgeous, but the gardens are something else. This place is like Berlin’s smaller scale Versailles. I visited the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, a church that was bombed during WWII which now, half destroyed, stands as a monument to how much Berlin was demolished. Scaffolding for works that covered a large chunk of the facade took away from the experience for me and left me feeling a bit disappointed.

Berlin is a city with a checkered past. The thing I like best is that it never shies away from what has happened there. We visited several sights around the city that deal with the Nazi party and the split of East and West Berlin. The city of Berlin should be commended for the way it faces up to what happened during these times, no matter how shameful it may be. It is not proud; it is factual and honest about what happened during these times. In addition to this, admission to sights, exhibitions and memorials that cover this time are mostly free, so there will not be any profits from the memories of victims of the regimes. Although there was nothing but respect shown for victims of the Nazis, I did notice the years of the DDR are taken a little less seriously, with men dressed as American soldiers at Checkpoint Charlie posing for pictures and an array of Soviet styled hats to buy on many street corners.

Checkpoint Charlie.

No discussion of Berlin or visit to it can avoid the topic of the rise of Nazism and the implementation of the so-called ‘Final Solution’ which systematically murdered 6 million Jewish people and over 5 million Roma and Sinti people, homosexuals, people with disabilities and Nazi’s political opponents. I had studied this era extensively in my own schooling and to teach it in my work, but, like most things, reading a whole lot of books doesn’t prepare you for the reality of what happened. The excellent Topography of Terror museum is located in the old SS headquarters is an example of this. It had outdoor and indoor exhibitions. The outdoor exhibition was an overview of Berlin from 1933 when the Third Reich came to power to the end of the party and the end of the war in 1945. The indoor exhibition concentrated on the SS and their role in the regime, including executions, ‘euthanasia programs’ and stand-over tactics. Obviously the whole thing was devastating. I think what really struck a chord for me was the story of the Roma and Sinti people, or Gypsies, as they were called at the time. Reading amazing biographies like Elie Weisel’s ‘Night’ or Livina Bitton-Jackson’s ‘Elli’, or seeing documentaries and films I know a lot about what the Jewish people went through at this time. However, I don’t think I have heard the story of the traveller people who went through these horrors too. I guess they just didn’t have a voice and still don’t to tell their tales. Across the city, there are a range of memorials dedicated to the victims of war. The Soviet monument and the mother and child one are interesting tributes, but the stunning ‘memorial for the murdered Jews of Europe’ is one of the most amazing monuments I’ve ever seen. it is a sea of stone blocks of varying heights, it doesn’t sound like much but it is strange and wonderful to look at. I walked thorough it for longer than I expected. During our visit we also went on a day trip to Orienburg to visit the Sachsenhausen Concentration camp. This was quite an experience; not one I enjoyed, but one that in many ways was necessary. Sachsenhausen began as a concentration camp for political prisoners but as the war began and progressed it was filled with all of the ‘enemies’ of the Nazis that I mentioned. We went around with a man named Nickolai; a great, learned guide who clearly had a passion for telling the stories of the prisoners of the camp. I think it will be a impossible for me to explain how this affected me. Graphic descriptions of gas chambers, mass graves and horrible conditions have all been given to you before. I think you have to see it to understand the gravity of the situation. I think I just walked away wondering how anyone could let something like this happen. Being the big sook I am I struggled to hold back tears for the victims, but I know how lucky I am to not be personally affected by it.

A memorial at Sachsenhausen.

The Berlin Wall is gone and the concrete that once divided the city is now only around in dribs and drabs across the city, including on postcards. One place is in Potsdamer Platz where out of the ashes of the so called ‘dead zone’ in between The East and West has risen a park and a huge shopping centre, outdoor pavillion and many other commercial enterprises (including a classy ‘Australian bar’). Here there is a small portion of the wall, strangely covered in globs of chewing gum and some information about the area. One of my favourite places is the East Side Gallery, where a larger portion of the Berlin wall still stands and has been turned into a gallery. I feel like it’s a symbol for how Berliners handle themselves. “You put up a wall designed to repress me? Well, I’m going to cover it in amazing art that questions you and society!”. Just over a kilometre of wall space is now splashed with bright colours and works from a variety of artists of many nationalities. The range of styles was phenomenal. Most pieces have a comment to make on the wall, its fall and what it meant to the people here, but some are just for fun. Street art pops up all over the city in many different ways. The scourge of tagging can be found from the ground to as high as arms can reach on the outside of many buildings, especially in Suburbs like Kruezerburg and where we stayed in Mitte. But there is also amazing art by very talented people. Murals that take up entire walls of 5 storey apartment blocks, life-like portraits and it’s not just paint, it’s stencils and papering too. One of the quirkier ones was we saw was a series about a little girl called Lucy who in each series is finding a new and exciting way to murder her cat. Cue that poor cat in a blender, little Lucy with a gun calling for “kitty” and more. Disturbing and hilarious. On our search for great street art we stumbled across an amazing portrait of Anne Frank which was commissioned by the Anne Frank museum. Down this same alleyway was some brilliant art. we were lucky enough to see the artist in the process of painting it. She used giant rollers and layered on the 3 colours she was working with, white, purple and black (I even got to come back and see the finished product on my return trip). As we snaked our way further down the lane we found The Monster Kabinet, an animatronics performance art show. We were escorted underground and encountered a wild array of monsters who sang, danced and tried to attack us all to pumping techno beats. It sounds kitsch (and it was) but it was so creative and interesting. Going to this performance art piece was one of my stranger travelling experiences, but I wouldn’t have missed it.

The finished product.

In case you can’t tell in what is possibly my longest entry yet, I loved Berlin. It is a great city. A spirited and youthful place that delivers on arts and culture, lifestyle and on budget.

Hamburg: sitting on the dock of the bay (and the couch).

Hamburg is quiet, industrial, eclectic, wealthy and just a little bit dull.

Landungsbrucken.

Our visit to Hamburg was an interesting one on many levels, however most of them were personal and not to do with the city itself. This was the first city were we got to stay with a friend in a real house, not in a hostel. For me, this was a great opportunity to see a city as a local sees it, which gave a real insight into what makes the city tick. In addition to this, Hamburg was were I said goodbye to my partner in crime. So the last few days have been more about being around each other than being around Hamburg. So forgive me if this entry is a bit thin on the ground. We arrived on the ridiculously expensive train in the afternoon and headed to the Hamburg suburb of Sternschanze for a few drinks and some pho. For me, there was a lot in this inner-city suburb that reminded me of the north side of Melbourne, eclectic boutiques, hip cafes and eateries – it is a German Fitzroy. Interestingly, most of it was closed. Germany has some very strict laws regarding businesses operating on a Sunday. Eateries can be open, but shops and the vast majority of supermarkets must remain closed. The small percentage of supermarkets that are open have to adhere to guidelines that say they can’t sell certain products on Sundays, like meat. This rule means even the most interesting suburb, like Sternschanze, can lose much of its vibrancy. With the mighty power of hindsight, it’s probably one of the reasons we were so bored so quickly on our Sunday morning in Wolfsburg. It was no matter, Sternschanzen park was filled with people playing games, barbequing and drinking beers on this Sunday. It was a great place to spend some time. Actually, I think just hanging out was a favourite past time in Hamburg. Whether it was in an artificial beach bar (a trend across Germany I have noticed), or on the banks of the river Alster, or in the inner-city suburb of Altona, we have really excelled at just sitting down and taking it all in.

Altona.

We did have time for those usual tourist spots though. We visited Hamburg’s famous red light district, the Reeperbahn. Which, I must say did not have the charm of it’s Dutch equivalent. My favourite part of the Reeperbahn was Beatles Platz, It wasn’t much, just a set of 5 statues on a turntable dedicated to the Beatles and the start they got playing in bars in the area. John Lennon said “I was born in Liverpool, but I came of age in Hamburg”. I can see why, the road is wall to wall sex shows, strippers and bars. We went to see a band at the famous fishmarkt. We did a cruise around the source of Hamburg’s wealth, its shipping yards. We even got in a trip to the partly amazing, partly peculiar miniature world, which featured miniature models of German, European and American towns complete with working lights, trains, cars and tiny people getting up to crazy things. I guess this is where I should confess, there isn’t too much to do in Hamburg. Just wandering around is OK, but in terms of the sights and activities the rest of Europe has offered, there hasn’t been as much here.

Beatles-Platz

As i mentioned before, having a local with you on a trip is an invaluable thing, especially when it comes to the inside word on my favourite thing – FOOD! We have been treated to delicious multi-cultural cuisine while in Hamburg and we owe it all to our trusty guide. As well as the pho, We ate at an Indian cafe that served platters with curry, rice, dhal, naan, salad and yogurt all for about 5 Euro. We had traditional food too, Currywurst is famous in Germany; basically, for the uninitiated, it is a sausage, usually sliced up, covered in a mixture of tomato sauce and curry powder. I can’t say it was my favourite, but I’m glad I tried it. And of course, we had a hamburger in Hamburg at an American-styled diner called ‘The Bird’. According to our trusty guide, these awesome eateries are a product of great research and the food in Hamburg is not as varied, tasty or even as cheap as in Berlin.

Currywurst.

I think it was the warmth of a friend’s home that was my favourite part of Hamburg. It was great to stay somewhere where we could sit on the couch, watch some TV, eat some food we prepared and just take a break from the travelling lifestyle. But, as always, the rest does not last for long. After a bus back to Berlin I’m ready to finish my experience in the German capital before heading north to Scandinavia, the Baltic states and Russia.

Day tripping: Wolfsburg

In between our trip from Berlin to Hamburg we stopped by a town in Lower Saxony called Wolfsburg. We did this so my partner in crime could see one of his favourite bands (who he’s not sure would make it to Australia), Iron Chic. I had not heard of Wolfsburg before this trip and to be honest, there was less than a day trip’s worth of stuff to do there. Our exploration that we envisioned would take a couple of hours, took just half of one. Although I must say the older part of town looked gorgeous. Wolfsburg is famous for manufacturing VW cars. The buildings around the plant on the river are modern and sleek, to the west of the train station there are some charming classic German houses, parks, playgrounds and quiet streets. In many ways, away from the train station (and near where we stayed) it created a village-like atmosphere where as closer to the station Wolfsburg looks more like a modern up and coming town. a interesting contrast just a few kilometres apart.

Town Hall.

We arrived in the afternoon from Berlin and after a relax (read: nap), had dinner at the hotel. In Berlin we had not had too much in the way of traditional German fare, the cuisine is very international there. Here we were faced with gigantic traditional dishes on giant plates, full of delicious carby goodness that filled you up til you were fit to bursting. I ate an amazing schnitzel that has probably changed my life for the better. The ‘welcoming’ shot of schnapps, however, did not have the same glorious taste. I have never had anything so strong. it gave me a shiver when i sniffed it, let alone when I downed it. When he offered us the second one, I tried to opt out, but was told in a very matter of fact tone that: “the first one is strong, the second one clears your mind”. How could I say no? For the record it was just as strong and horrible. In the morning as we left at check out time, there were 3 older men having a 10am schnapps. I was equal parts impressed and horrified. Our waiter, bar man and hotel owner was a very kind man, and not just for his penchant for giving us free booze. He discussed travel, work and life with us and laughed heartily at our jokes. He made us feel at home, which is a nice feeling.

 

The streets of Wolfsburg.

The whole point of being there of course was to see the band and they did not disappoint. The show was played in a squat; an old, abandoned house covered in graffiti inside and out, getting through to the front door there was a mass of overgrown plants to contend with. Iron Chic played to around 170 people crammed in a tiny room that was probably the house’s old living room. It was hot, and with good reason. Everyone was dancing, moshing, stage diving, crowd surfing and yelling along to the music. This was one of the more interesting gig going experiences I have had. The band played well, the sound was good and the crowd had a great time singing, jumping and enjoying the show. There was probably some alarm bells ringing for a couple of you (Mum and Nanna) when I said was seeing music in a squat, but there were lots of different types of people enjoying the same thing, so there was no trouble from anywhere. Music unified everyone from the hardcore punk with blue hair to the 10 year old girl who had come to the show and stood side of stage so she wouldn’t be caught in the crowd.

Iron Chic

A fun detour an interesting to see a real town, not a tourist centre.

Amsterdam: more than the clichés.

Amsterdam is gorgeous, liberal, relaxed, windy and full of ‘blokes on a stag do’.

Houses on the canal.

Here is another case of a city that I didn’t have many expectations of; and the ones I did have were based on stereotypes. Pot smoking hippies, windmills, prostitutes at sex shows, tulips and clogs. Of course, as is usually the case of these stereotypes, they exist, but many only for the tourists’ enjoyment. Amsterdam is a beautiful city. Over the last 8 weeks, I’ve seen plenty of beautiful cities, but there is something about Amsterdam that makes it, much like her people, the best looking in the room. It has the canals of Venice, the easiness of Barcelona and the fashionable cafe culture of Paris. Yet Amsterdam has it’s own style, never needing to imitate others. There is something quite calm and relaxing about the city despite it being a capital city and home to 800,000 Dutch babes. People glide by on bikes, trams ding gently to let you know they are coming, the streets away from main attractions and squares are quiet and everyone is laid back about life. We have experienced some horrible weather while we have been here, all bar one day there has been constant rain coupled with cold, bitter winds. but no-one seems phased by it. As i’m cursing my umbrella for turning itself inside out with all the swears I can muster, the Dutch don’t seem to mind and casually flip their umbrellas in the right way and move on. Maybe I should take a leaf out of their book and stop sweating the small stuff.

Canals and bridges.

Sight seeing has taken us from one side on the city to the other. Getting lost down side streets, crossing over canals (which really are the basis of the structure of the city) and enjoying the relaxed lifestyle. There are quirky sights to enjoy, like the Katten Kabinet, a gallery dedicated entirely to images of cats. It had art by local hero Rembrandt and other big names like Picasso and Latrec all of cats of course. All upstairs at a little house, that had a man manically playing a piano while we walked through. It was weird and delightful. As far as galleries go it probably had the biggest range of styles, artists and eras I have seen so far in Europe. A church, called ‘new church’ that holds art exhibitions (Showing at the time of my visit was 2014 international photojournalism awards) was also a very different sight. Unlike the other churches we have seen, this one is not about religion, it is about art and creativity. You entered the church and it was set up like a proper gallery with space for audio visual works and the photos suspended in the air. A beautiful, old cinema and theatre called Tuschinski was another quirky sight, the cinema is a grand old theatre with detailed paintings, dress circle seating and an old mustard coloured curtain to cover the screen. It is so amazing on the inside that people will go see horrible Cameron Diaz films there just so they can then look around and take photos of the space when the film is over (yes, I did this). We saw live music. We went to an improv comedy show called ‘Boom Chicago’ an Amsterdam institution and a very funny night out. We also went on a 1 and a half hour canal cruise that featured pizza, all you can drink beers and tubs of ice cream. I feel this mildly whacky side matches really well with the wonderful Dutch people we have met who are kind and a little quirky themselves.

Inside the theatre.

That quirky side is not all cat museums, our hostel is right on the edge of the red light district, one of the more interesting places to spend an evening in Amsterdam. The streets are lined with windows with women of all different shapes and sizes inside them. They giggle, they dance and more often than not they bounce on the spot for the attention of passers-by and sell them 15 minutes of their time. It is the oldest of Amsterdam cliches. The district itself is an interesting mix of curious tourists, lonely old men and blokes out on boys’ nights out. As we were there on a Saturday night that parties were moving around the city for most of the day and finished in the red light district at night. Packs roam the streets, they make loud lewd comments but essentially it is all bravado for the benefit of their mates. Men (literally) push each other into strip clubs, sex shows and even into the sex worker’s windows. We saw one young man walk into the room behind the window and his large group of friends and several strangers cheered and applauded loudly as the woman drew the curtains. It all felt a bit fake and put on for the tourists (especially for those buck’s nights). But, this is these women’s livelihoods and they take it very seriously. If an exchange between one of the sex workers and a man who took her photo without her permission was anything to go by, very, very. seriously. I was uneasy about the testosterone, aggression and objectification, but the practice of women placed in windows like mannequins fascinated me no end. A Dutch man told me that they were looking to cut the red light district down, which meant getting rid of 2/3s of the windows and shutting down a large number of the city’s ‘coffee shops’, which of course sell very little coffee. This is a major shift, I think because of the tourism industry’s reliance on these stereotypes; right next to the clogs and tulips in the souvenir shops are umbrellas with marijuana leaves and mugs made in the shape of women’s naked bodies. Away from the red light district Amsterdam sells itself as a much different place. museums, galleries, cafes and culture are the main selling points and in the south of the city. It is full of public spaces to enjoy, like the lush Vondelpark, which would be a lovely refuge if the city wasn’t so relaxed already. Lakes, fountains and green rolling hills are enjoyed by locals and tourists alike. That is the interesting thing about this city. It is the sex and the sleaze, but it is also a place for great thinkers and beauty.

 

By night.

When I’ve been travelling, I have been trying to take the time to get to know the national heroes, interesting people and icons of the places I have visited. In The Netherlands, the famous Dutch people who have changed the country and the world: Rembrandt, Van Gogh and Anne Frank are prominent. Rembrandt’s house and square were comparatively quiet, when compared to the rest of the tourist attractions in the city. The Van Gogh gallery focused on how he honed his craft and developed as an artist. The gallery had his famous painting, ‘sunflowers’ which was truly beautiful, but I have to say when it comes to flowers, I love his ‘Irises’. Anne Frank Huis was excellent on many levels. A musuem, a tribute, a historical site all rolled into one. It was very emotional to see how she lived and to realise that she is a real person and all those things that you read she actually felt. Anne and her sister’s growth chart on the wall, Anne’s pictures of celebrities that decorated her wall are still stuck there and even the diary itself made her more real to me. I know that sounds strange, of course, I know she existed, but now she feels more like a real person than a narrator. It is a somber place. Most people barely spoke while we shuffled through the house en-masse. It was a place of reflection for most, including me. I think most of my time was spent thinking about how truly lucky I am. To be on this trip, to live a life free of persecution and to have the freedom to be me. These are luxuries members of the secret annex and the rest of the groups discriminated against by the Nazi regime did not have. The place is emotional, but it’s also quietly stoic. I guess a bit like Anne and her equally amazing father, Otto. He got the diary published, started the museum and ran campaigns to end discrimination up until his death.

A tribute to Anne Frank.

Amsterdam is beautiful, the buildings are gorgeous, the food is international and delicious and for the first time on this trip, it is a place I could see myself living. I adored it. The city is smart, sassy and a bit saucy. And I saw that there is so much more to it than sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll clichés.

Bruges: Where it’s OK to be stuck in the past.

Bruges is beautiful, busy, quaint, touristy and delightfully kitsch.

Burg Square.

Bruges is no secret, off-the-beaten-path kind of place. It is well and truly a tourist town. We stayed in Bruges for two nights, meaning we got the best part of full 2 days here. This was plenty, the town is so small and the attractions and exploring can easily be hammered through on a day trip. Which a few people opt to do. The old town is where the action is, surrounded by canals that also run through the city, the only remnants of the old town walls are large gates that now stay permanently ajar and let smart cars, cyclists and all of those tourists in and out.  After Bruges stopped being a trade centre,  it was left as one of the poorest cities in Europe in the 1600s, Then for the next 200 years, the town went to sleep. When the tourist trade picked up in the 1800s, it found it’s life line. So now, that is what the town’s economy is geared towards. The place is buzzing with tourists on walking, segue and bike tours as well as boat and carriage rides. Restaurant signs are all written in Flemish, French, German and English to accommodate many of the visitors. When we were getting dinner one night the man behind the counter asked a couple “English? Français?  Español? Italiano?”, then he spoke to them in Italian. Everyone speaks beautiful English, which is good because my Flemish is non-existent.

Typical Bruge buildings.

The appeal of the place is that it is stuck in the Medieval period. Which means there a beautiful old buildings with intricate designs, houses with triangular facades and massive churches and bell towers. I too was captivated by the beauty of Bruges. I don’t think I’ve been anywhere that looks like it. It has small canals with stone footbridges, grand Medieval architecture and has retained the style of the period. There are very few modern buildings and the fashion shops, frites (fries) shops and restaurants are all housed in old buildings. However, not all of this is as it seems. Knowing when it was onto a good thing the local government decided not to mess with the formula. So a few of the newer buildings are faithful reproductions. I saw one that was dated 1975. Not exactly Medieval.

I was able to climb the belfry in the Markt sqaure, over 300 steps up a winding staircase and eclipsing all the steep stairs I have climbed across Europe so far. All in the name of a good view. You can see to the town’s city-limits and beyond to the wind farms on the hills outside the town. The town also has two interesting churches. I went to the Basillica of the Holy Blood, a church that contains a relic that is said to contain some of Jesus’s congealed blood. The relic was on a platform being guarded by a stern looking nun, so everyone knew not to mess with her. The other church, The Church of Our Lady, was more like an art gallery. Housing many works by Flemish painters. Their more realistic style from the Renaissance time period is very appealing to look at. The church is also home to the only Michelangelo sculpture to leave Italy in his life-time. ‘Madonna and Child’. I feel like my Michelangelo journey has been completed with awesome works in Italy, France and now Belgium. The rest of the time was spent exploring the little lane ways, seeing art-house cinema (VOS of course) and drinking the abundance of local beers hanging out in bars. It is a relaxed place; which of course only adds to its old world charm. At night when the streets are mostly empty when the day trippers have gone and the buildings are lit up it is both haunting and beautiful.

Madonna & Child by Michelangelo.

In terms if deliciousness, Belgian foods like waffles, fries and chocolate have been one of the highlights of the visit. There are many artisan chocolatiers making ‘pralines’ in small shopfronts that have been running since the early part of last century. We went to one near the Church of our Lady and chowed down on tiny chocolate coated biscuits and chocolate nougat, as well as a more traditional block. Needless to say, I’m in some form of heaven. Fries, or frites, are found on nearly every street corner. People seem to be eating them constantly here. So naturally, in a desperate attempt to act like a local I did too.

Canals.

Being in a tourist ‘hot spot’ usually makes for a rather unpleasant experience, but Bruges is so quaint, charming and relaxed that you barely notice the swarms of people.  You could almost forget that you’re one of the couple of million visitors a year. Almost.

Paris: Now I get it.

Paris is romantic, elegant, grey, creative and it is seemingly always raining.

The Champs-Élysées and The Eiffel Tower from the top of The Arc De Triomphe.

Do you know someone who has been to Paris? In my experience they all act the same way. If Paris is brought up in a conversation they suddenly look wistfully off in the distance and sigh. ‘Oh Paris’, they may say, ‘take me back’ or something similar and then they go so glassy eyed that you wonder if they can hear you in there. I always knew Paris had charm and allure, romance and all those special factors that make it a great city of the of the world. I guess I never understood quite how special the place is. Now I get it, I understand the people who stare of into the distance because now, I am enamored with Paris too. The romance, elegance, creativity and style of the city have always appealed to me. It’s one of the reasons I have always wanted to go to come here. Like Rome, I felt I knew Paris before I had arrived through Rick’s heartbreak with Elsa in ‘Casablanca’ (we’ll always have Paris), the high kicking antics of the can-can girls in ‘Moulin Rouge’ and through reading Hemingway’s musings on the city in ‘A Movable Feast’. In real life, Paris does not disappoint. It is all the movie and book fantasies and so much more.

The Eiffel Tower.

 

We have been lucky enough to have a total of 9 days in Paris. 7 before our Belgian Groezrock music festival adventure and 2 afterwards. The time has been jammed packed with sight seeing, day trips and wandering from right bank to left and back again. So I have a lot to write about. Our Parisian adventure started with doing what Parisians do best: walking. In our first week we were staying in the east of the city, near Place de la République. A bustling, multicultural part of the city, littered with eateries, cinemas and theaters, Getting around has been relatively easy; the metro system is not to hard to figure out and was a good way for us to stay out the rain. Walking south-west to the Seine was filled with classic sights, Notre Dame cathedral, sans hunchback; the love lock bridge Pont de l’Archeveche, where lovers in Paris mark their visits by putting a lock on the bridge and throwing away the key; The Shakespeare and Company bookshop, an English bookshop that’s claim to fame is that it houses writers and was the haunt of Ernest Hemingway and James Joyce in the 1920s. The Louvre and it’s Jardins de Tuileries, Place de la Concorde, where victims of the guillotine, like Louis XVI, were executed; The Pont Alexandre, an amazing bridge with gold and bronze statues; Champs-Élysées and it’s Arc De Triomphe; and of course the stunning Eiffel Tower. We were able to climb the arc, which although only 50 meters high, still gives a stunning view down the Champs-Élysées and over to the tower. Post-Groezrock, The last 2 days of our trip were spent on the canal, in the further northeast from our home at République. From here it was an easy metro ride to the famous cemetery the Pere Lachaise, where I went to pay my respects to Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf, Jim Morrison and Chopin, amongst others and to Parc des Buttes Chaumont, home to an enormous artificial lake and waterfall, the 19th century Temple de la Sibylleto set upon a man-made cliff and hundreds on sunbathing Parisians. Well, I guess it was the first day of sun in a week. Just walking through the streets and seeing these famous sights was a special experience. History is everywhere. Delicious food, although expensive, is in abundance. Bolangerie trips were always fruitful for baguettes, tarts, quiches and macarons.  Paris is a grey city; on any other occasion this would make for a place that looks horrible, however, possibly through witchcraft, Paris is grey but it’s not dull or boring. The buildings look so perfectly French. It’s beautiful.

The Louvre.

Our visit to The Louvre was a 6-and-a-half hour affair on a (surprise, surprise) rainy Tuesday afternoon. Firstly, the place looks stunning. The building was a fort, then a palace, then a gallery and parts of it have existed since medieval times. From the outside the old building mixed with the much maligned glass pyramid is simply gorgeous. I love the mix of the old and new styles and staring up through the glass to the sky is amazing. Inside the gallery is madness. 3 wings, 4 levels and people everywhere. Prams running over your toes, tour groups with no concept of how to stand to the side, signs warning of pick-pockets and unsavoury types and of course the amazing art. A very large Ancient Egypt collection started our day and we finished it with artifacts from all over the ancient world, classic and modern sculptures and of course, paintings. There is so much to see, we attempted it all, but fell a little short when sheer exhaustion and art overload set in. The Louvre, of course, is the famous home of many masterpieces, like the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa. Around the Venus de Milo it was hard to see as the crowd was so huge; but this was nothing compared to the world’s most famous portrait, The Mona Lisa. She had a crowd 10 people deep encircling her. The free-for-all of pushing and shoving to get the best picture (including the work of one charming lady, who managed to both hit me with her hip and elbow in two swift motions all in aid of her perfect shot) took away from the experience. But that’s ok, I’ll admit now, although the work is famous, it’s most certainly not my favourite. Beside these busy sections, seeing most of the gallery meant we got to have quiet moments in the Louvre, which seemed impossible around Mona and Venus. A highly recommend spending time in the sculpture courts, which were quiet and beautiful. The Louvre is a marvel of architecture and the collection is outstanding. The famous works are only a small part of that.

Mad about Mona.

We climbed to the top of Paris’s bohemian heart, Montmarte. An interesting mix of outrageous tourism, poverty and history. On top of the hill is the church Sacré-Cœur, which looks down over the city. A beautiful church with domes and spires all in white. Some of the most entusisatic vendors of the trip can be found here, selling bracelets on the steps walking up to the church. One of them grabbed on to my coat and wouldn’t let go. I dragged him along side me as I walked until he got the picture. Once up the top of the hill, the view was stunning. Around the corner from here, galleries, restaurants and old style buildings harking back to the days when this section of Paris was a bohemian artist’s paradise. We wandered until we hit the Moulin Rouge. An underwhemling sight to say the least. Baz Luhrmann did a good job of making it look much more impressive than it actually is.  The famous red windmill did not impress. It is a minimum 100 Euro to attend a show here. Even with all of the kitschy charm it promises, I couldn’t justify the price. Plus, no guarantee of Nicole Kidman swinging from the roof also turned me off.

A rainy day at Sacré-Cœur.

Outside of Montmarte we were able to spend some time in other areas of the city appreciating the artistic spirit of Paris. Of course, the creativity of the city can be found in obvious places, like it’s museums and galleries, but we found it in unexpected places too. In the train station Saint Lazare there was an upright piano sitting on the upper level. As we left on the train in the morning, a man was playing soulful tunes on it while a small group watched. when we returned in the afternoon another man was playing the piano, while another beat boxed and the other rapped over the top. France is famous for it’s films. We were able to go to a lovely independent cinema called ‘Le Brady’ and watch a film. There was 1 man running the box office, projection and candy bar and he clearly loved his job. In addition to this we must have seen over 10 fashion shoots happening in the streets of Paris. pretty young things in high fashion gear posing for photographers in choice locations, like on bridges, in front of the Eiffel Tower and in the parks and gardens of the city.

Having so long in Paris meant we were also able to do a couple of day trips and excursions. At the risk of this blog becoming the biggest thing in the world, I’ve posted about our trip to Monet’s garden at Giverny here and our visit to the royal palace at Versailles here.  Speaking of day trips, One of our days was spent at Parc Asterix, a theme park dedicated to the comic character Asterix and his big boned friend, Obliex. I must confess besides having heard of the characters before, I really didn’t know anything about the comics. My partner in crime assures me they were the only comics in the his primary school library and unfortunately for him, they weren’t very good, but I digress. It seems Asterix works better as a theme park than a comic. The roller-coasters, rides, dolphin show and even the food are broken up into ancient civilizations, a place for Egypt, for Gaul, for Rome, for Greece etc. The rides are fast and furious and therefore I spent much of the day feeling a little nauseous, but miraculously recovered for some delicious theme park ice cream. I’m a real trooper. The old wooden roller-coaster in the Greek section called “Zeus” was my favourite, the drops were huge, it went much faster than I expected and I felt some genuine terror. Other than that, old favourites like the log flume, the pirate ship and the chute coaster were fun too. By all accounts, Parc Asterix has suffered since the opening of Disneyland Paris, but the crowd was still decent. The perfect size, actually, not so many you’re lining up for hours, but just enough that the screaming on the coasters is loud enough to strike fear in your heart.

Parc Asterix.

Our time in Paris has proven stereotypes of Parisians as arrogant and rude to be utterly wrong. Kind Parisians were everywhere, helping us and making conversation. A woman saw us struggling at the laundromat and walked us through the process of using the machines, all in French, but in an easy to understand way with hand gestures and movement. We didn’t ask her for help, she just did it. A man who sold us the best crepes I have every eaten and who also did not speak any English managed to create several jokes at my partner in crime’s expense without ever seeing rude, only jovial and kind. Shopkeepers at many places all made conversation and were kind, considerate and even complimentary of my French (which was clearly just them being kind). There are too many people to mention in this blog, actually. The only funny thing was that in our conversations they almost always brought up how rude Parisians are; all while being kind and considerate themselves. Go figure.

Metro station.

So the next time Paris comes up in conversations, you’ll be able to pick me, I’l have a big grin on my face, a glassy-eyed expression and be sighing “oh Paris”. I get it now, because now I get it; I too have been and fallen in love with Paris.

Groezrock.

Every year a tiny Belgian village is over-run with metal-heads, punk rockers, hardcore kids, crust-punks and those clowns who just go to festivals so they can say they have been, for 2 days of guitar thrashing goodness. People from all over Europe and the world come to Meerhout for the Groezrock festival.

The line-up at Groezrock was one that appealed to me and featured a few of my favourite bands. The trip from Paris to the venue was not too hard (3 trains and a bus: Paris to Brussels, Brussels to Antwerp, Antwerp to Geel and Geel to Meerhout). So we decided it was a trip worth making. We were clever and booked a ‘flexotel’, this is basically a shipping container room with beds that negates the need to camp in a tent. A smart move considering it was an average of about 10 degrees in Meerhout over the weekend we were there and neither of us had the room to carry a tent for the past 6 weeks. Besides 2 Scottish girls in the flexotel next to us with dramatic love-lives, our area was quiet and sleeping was easy. The food was actually decent and there was tonnes of vegetarian and vegan food (Yes to frites!). There was a massive festival market that actually had decent stuff, a pop-up barber shop where my partner in crime got a snazzy new ‘do and all the stages bar-one were undercover. We saw Red City Radio, Iron Chic, The Wonder Years, The Menzingers, Alkaline Trio, Taking Back Sunday, Paint it Black, The Lawrence Arms, The Descendents, Brand New, Elway, The River Jumpers, Touche Amore, All and New Found Glory. The bands were great, the sound mixing was good, the pace was easy and we didn’t have to deal with too many clashes. I had a great time.

WARNING: SERIOUS OLD LADY COMMENTS AHEAD: It was just very different to the music festivals I usually attend. Seemingly, the rules at Groezrock are, there are no rules.’It’s a festival’ was the catch cry and people used it to excuse all kinds of behaviour. All of the responsible Australian alcohol service practices did not apply here. For an Australian comparison: it was the races turned up to 11. People were lying passed out in the middle of the grass, friends watched while their mate vomit up the day’s drinking, men were urinating on the fences despite the closeness of the toilets, campers could bring in all the booze they wanted so there were no ingenious schemes to hide drinks, people just dropped their rubbish on the ground at their feet or alternatively, threw it into the crowd in front of them. Trash was everywhere and it was impossible to walk without stepping on it. Actually, the rubbish really got to me. It just seemed so unnecessary. That being said, there barely any fighting and most people were happy being drunk of stoned or whatever they were with themselves.

Am I too old for this? Probably not, because I still danced like an idiot to my favourite bands. I just put my rubbish in the bin.

Day tripping: Versailles

The royal palace at Versailles is billed as a must see for any trip to Paris. As you approach the gates, past the statue of the ‘Sun King’, Louis XIV, you see that the place is covered in gold. It glimmers under the sun. The opulence is obvious from the outset and only gets more ridiculous when you get inside.

The Sun King, Louis XIV.

Speaking of getting inside, the line was so massive that we were in it for over an hour and a half, even with pre-paid tickets. When we went inside the palace the shuffling and lining up continued. Don’t get me wrong, I like people (this may or may not be true), but being around them in a space like this is frustrating to say the least. A place like Versailles, just like the Louvre or the Vatican brings out the worst in people, including me. We shuffled from room to room, views were disrupted with cameras and it was impossible to get to the signs to see what the rooms actually were. It was frustrating and unfortunately it took away from the experience. But even with the huge crowd you could not miss the fact that the items and rooms on display were opulent, beautiful and gold-plated. As you went from ‘salon’ to ‘salon’ the roof in most rooms was painted with an amazing scene and the cornices and ceiling roses were painted, of course, in gold. Several massive chandeliers hung in each room. Art and copies of famous works hung in every room, royal portraits, historical paintings, sculptures and busts adorn the walls, shelves and tables. The hall of mirrors was even more grand than I had imagined. It had all of these features and more. The scale of the wealth was ridiculous. No wonder the people rebelled. But possibly more interesting than that is the fact that it survived the revolution, I would have thought that something so powerful and symbolic of the regime would be lost, but I guess you should not underestimate greed.

Inside Versailles.

Once outside of the palace Versailles is more spacious, but still just as opulent. The large gardens can be enjoyed by many and it’s hedges, trees, statures, fountains and canal are breath-taking. It is vast and extremely well-maintained. Entrance to the gardens is free so many families spend the afternoon picnicking there. You can hire a bike, a golf buggy or take a ‘train’ if you don’t wish to brave the long walk from one side to the other. We walked down to Napoleon’s pink marble palace The Grand Trianon in the back of the gardens and to Marie Antoinette’s house and farm that she had built in the 1780s so she could play peasant. These areas were fascinating and because they were less crowded, much more enjoyable. The farm was my favourite part. The small houses were built by the same architect were for a fantasy so their structure and style was interesting. There are also a range of animals to pat and more cat fish than I have ever seen swimming in it’s lake. Marie Antoinette is the star of the show at Versailles. There are gift shops dedicated entirely to her and sell bags, fans and coffee mugs with her image on them all in pink, of course. Having studied the French revolution at school I found this hilariously ironic, considering how hated she was during her reign. Now she is an icon and people are more interested in her story, her farm and little house than anything else at Versailles.

The gardens.

There was lots of construction work going on, so some areas were not easily accessible or open. This was ok, as it didn’t take away from the visit. The people who run Versailles have set it out so that it is easy to navigate and have it so well maintained that barely a blade of grass is out of place.

Marie Antoinette’s ‘English Garden’ from her residence, the Petite Trianon.

Versaille was a must-see, but unfortunately for me it was too busy to be enjoyed properly. The over-the-top opulence was also difficult to swallow when you understand the symbolism of the palace. It was amazing to be in a place that I had read so much about, I just wish it was with about half of the people who had decided to go to Versailles on that Wednesday morning!