Utopia

Artwork: Luc Schuiten
http://www.mundaneum.be/

This was an exhibition I saw in Mons, Belgium the other day, dealing with the origins, history, current trends and possible future paths of designing utopian cities. What particularly appealed to me was the exhibition was a melange of subjects I'm interested in -- science-fiction/fantasy, architecture, design, art, history, social commentary and so on. In fact, the only reason I went to Mons in the first place was to check this out. It took me an hour to get there, I had an hour and fifteen minutes to find the exhibition hall and look around then I had to cane it back to Brussels in order to make my train to Barcelona via Paris. I made it back with three minutes to spare, but it was worth it -- this was one of the most interesting things I've done so far.

One might be able to design a utopian city, but what about a utopian citizen?

Hyper Eurail Trail

Olympic Stadium, Berlin




Atomium, Brussels




Fisherman's Bastion, Budapest




So in theory it's possible to get maximum usage out of a Eurail pass by visiting a city by day, hopping the night train to a new destination, arriving early in the morning and stowing your stuff in the train station lockers and starting the sight seeing all over again, only somewhere new. There are a few problems with this strategy:

1. Washing (or lack thereof). In Germany and Switzerland train stations there is a facility called McClean, where for a nominal fee you can use the WC, shower and change room. But what if you're not travelling to those countries? You can't shower on the train (although you can attempt to splash yourself with water and hope for the best). I am equipped with scented wipes, perfume and a frame of mind where I've decided that even if I stink, it's not around anyone I know and the people smelling me don't have to hang around me for very long.

2. Regular sleeping hours (or lack thereof). Sometimes the night train leaves at 8:30pm. Sometimes 11:30pm. Sometimes ... well, you get the picture. Sometimes your compartment has beds already set up and no seats, which means that all you can do is go to sleep straight away, lie in your berth awake or stand in the corridor. Sometimes there are seats that convert to beds, but then there's the awkwardness of reaching a consensus with fellow travellers about when to convert (too early? too late?) And then when you cross a boarder, the police often wake you up to check your passport. Last night's reason for lack of sleep was far better -- met some fun guys and hung out at the train bar drinking, talking bullshit and playing cards. But today I'm very, very tired...

3. Fatigue (and much thereor). Trains generally arrive early in the morning and leave after 6pm, so you spend at least a good 12 hours occupying yourself. You get the feel of a city so much better if you walk around it as much as possible, but you get pretty bloody tired too. So yes I'm on a holiday, but continuous sight seeing can be hard work.

4. Food. I like to cook. Eating out all the time is the culinary equivalent of continuous sight seeing.

But on the plus side, whilst you're doing it, you don't notice any of those things (well, maybe the smell) you just get blown away by seeing so much new and cool stuff and it's not until you stop that you realise how much you've been busting your balls (figuratively in my case).

So anyway I've been doing the Hyper Eurail Trail since Sunday (the guys I met on the night train assured me that I didn't stink, despite not showering for four days). Cities I've visited thus far: Budapest (Sunday) Munich, Bamberg, Nuremburg (Monday), Berlin (Tuesday), Brussels, Mons (Wednesday) and have finally come to rest in Barcelona. A bed and a shower and somewhere to relax and do nothing -- bliss!!

Berlin

I LOVE Berlin! It's such a cool place! It doesn't take too much to impress me though, just beautiful and grandiose old buildings, funky and modern architecture, well thought out and executed infrastructure, lots of parks and green spaces not to mention a shitload of history and museums and other attractions that are reasonably priced. Nothing much at all, really.

Musing

So it's been all nomad and no artist lately and I'm okay with that. I don't think I've done anything artistic at all for the last ... very long time. Two days ago I bought a sketch book and have been haunting the prettier buildings of Prague with a pencil in hand, but it's purely a technical exercise and a way of passing time, no creativity whatsoever required. And I'm okay with that.

I'm wondering if I'm developing enough of a sense of [insert noun here: humility? perspective? mindfulness?] to lead an unremarkable life and at the end of it slip into oblivion without leaving a trace in the world. To do great deeds and have others praise you for it, or to do great deeds and have others know of it, or even to do great deeds and have no one know of it but to praise yourself for it, somehow smacks of hubris at the moment.

The Beer

It was a Pilsener. Photo courtesy of Karel.

Prague

She glitters like a candle on fire and the sunlight is golden on the buildings through the entirety of the day. If there's hype (and there is) Prague lives up to it and then keeps on going.

It's been a bit of a blitz of sightseeing since arriving last week, with the Old and New Towns, castles, forts, gardens, galleries and landmarks (there is a miniature version of the Eiffel Tower in Prague. Why?). Best in show so far has been climing up Řip Hill, great views and also I got to make an ass of myself by standing at the top and declaiming, "This is the land of milk and honey. We shall go forth into the valley and there the mighty Czech peoples will grow and prosper!" (apparently this actually happened somewhere in the mists of Czech history, except that it wasn't a small Chinese girl declaiming but rather their leader, who was taller and had an impressive beard.Probably.) I've even managed to spend an afternoon at a dance competition (Strictly Ballroom, much?) and have somehow foolishly promised to consume a beer for the sake of **truly** experiencing Czech culture (I hate beer).

I'm here for another five or so days before shipping out and plunging into the Eurail experience in earnestness, and with Mirek and Karel looking after me I'm sure I'll continue having a blast. Ah, the company of the boys, what can I say? I haven't laughed so hard or at such deliciously crude jokes since the glory days with Zak and the Dirty Talk Juggernaut.

Road Trips

I love road trips but unfortunately I am a terrible road trip buddy. Essentially, unless driving, I am unable to maintain consciousness for any stretch of time within a moving vehicle. The current record stands at getting into the car at 9am, fresh as a daisy after a good night's sleep and hearty breakfast and then out like a light in 15 minutes.

When you're travelling by bus or plane or train it's not so bad, but when it's you and another person alone in a car it's another story. At first there's laughter and conversation, then it lapses a little, and then silence, and then a warm, happy blanket of oblivion. I can't comment on what the experience is like for those travelling with me. At a guess I'd say interesting, amusing, annoying or downright disgusting, as I'm not a particularly graceful sleeper. Drooling on the seat has definitely occurred in the past and on this road trip, I was told that I snored (he tried to soften the blow by calling them cute little snores, but a snore by any other name is an unattractively loud inhalation).

Upon waking, I'll feel mostly groggy but also slightly guilty, as whilst I've been having a kip, my travel partner (diligent, though deprived of conversation) will have been guiding us to where we needed to be (but not so guilty that I won't fall asleep again, given the opportunity).

And then on top of the varoius naps I'll take during the day, I'll STILL need a good 8 - 10 hours of sleep that night before waking like a very grumpy zombie the next morning.

Apparently I'm not a morning person.

Copenhagen

Once you get away from the awful department stores, souvenier shops and neon lights of Storget (the main shopping drag), Copenhagen is a beautiful little city. There are some gorgeous old buildings, complete with breathtaking facades and spiralling turrets but also some really funky new architecture too (I love a slanty building -- it's so gravity defying!)

It's been so fascinating to have seen all four of the Nordic countries is quick succession -- really gives you a feel for their overall uniting features but also the subtle differences between them. (Incidentally, you can be in the Artic Circle, in the most remote and northernmost town imaginable with very unhospitable weather and there will STILL be a Chinese restaurant in town. AND it will be listed in the Lonely Planet as somewhere to eat. Insane!)

These last few weeks I've seen places that I never thought I would see, places that I never even thought about seeing ... and yet here it is happening, like some grand and worldly surprise party. Life is fucking awesome!

Narvik and Mo i Rana

Norway is far more beautiful than I will ever have words to describe.

It's an incredible miracle that I even have these photos. We have been doing some long driving days, which means there are numerous toilet stops along the road side. At one particular stop, there were long thin holes in the ground where road barrier support poles had been pulled out and, being the funny old fool that I am, I decided to pee right into the hole. As I was pulling down my pants, (thankfully this occurred before I relieved myself) what should drop out of my back pocket and down the hole but my mobile phone (which is also doubling as my camera)!! Thanks to Henrik for digging it out for me (I have learned my lesson about peeing in strange holes.)

Enonkoski

Enonkoski is just north of and far preferable to (ie less ugly than) Savonlinna, the main town of the Lakes District in Finland. We were lucky to get a room to stay here -- rocking up at about 5pm only to find the front door of the hostel locked, taking a peek around the back and finding a cleaning lady just finishing up for the day at the adjoining cafe. The hostel was totally empty and we hadn't made a reservation, so the whole place was closed, but she very kindly opened it all up for us. Just 10 minutes later and we would have been sleeping among the trees that night!



There was a kick ass sunset later on -- about 9pm or so -- that made the forest look like it was ablaze, but it stayed light for aaaages after the sun set. Now I know what twilight is all about. Wandering about, I found a little hill where some industrious lumber jacks had built a little hut (a sauna perhaps? It was locked so I couldn't check it out).



The high season for travel in the Nordic countries is the winter or the summer but late spring is the low season (this explains the closed hostel, one of many we've encountered). You don't get to see the Northern lights or ski or hike, but watching the ice crack is a rare treat that only happens around this time. Many of the lakes we saw were half frozen over, gently lapping water on one side and a sheet of ice on the other, with slabs of ice washed up on the shore like a frozen tide. Listening to the ice cracking on the lakes oh so delicately is a deliciously still activity, like listening to someone beside you in bed carefully turning over so as not to wake you.