Berlin: Day 4 | A culture fix

I've already touched on Berlin's incredible street art. It's everywhere. I had considered doing a street art workshop (I could be a talented street artist without even knowing it), but decided I am all to aware of my lack of artistic talent and opted for just a tour.

I began the day at yet another cafe. This time it was a case of walking around Prenzlauer Berg and finding something that looked good. I ended up walking to the Mitte neighbourhood and into Marketta. There was no English menu but still quite busy. I took that as a good sign. I ate my breakfast (more bread) at a large communal wooden table next to a toasty fire while reading my book. Now that is how to start the morning.



The tour started at 11am and our first stop was the Turkish neighbourhood, Kreuzberg. It wasn't long before we were walking down Oranienstrasse, which I visited on Tuesday. Our guide, Penny, pointed out a lot of things I didn't notice before and gave me the background on things I had seen. The tour was a mixture of education about graffiti and street art (they aren't the same thing), checking out some great pieces around the city, visiting some galleries and even an African beach community, YAAM. The latter was due to be closed down the day we visited. It's a waterfront property and money trumps what the community has going on there. I was surprised it was still open when we were there given the impending eviction.



The below picture is a funny story. The artist, El Bocho, has done his own take on a Czech cartoon called Little Lucy. In the cartoon, Lucy loves her cat. In the street art, Lucy is always trying to kill her cat. Bocho has gone so far as to hang up stuffed cat toys in a noose around the city.





The tour finished up at the alley Annika took me to on my first day in the city (what are they odds) and after I enjoyed my first taste of currywurst from a stand in Hackescher Markt.



I used the rest of the afternoon to expore Prenzlauer Berg. Even though it was a little chilly, it's a great time to visit the city. There are trees everywhere and they look gorgeous with their orange and yellow leaves.



 



After a stop at another cafe, I jumped on the train again. When I was in Paris I saw an exhibition of Helmut Newton's work at the Grand Palais. His photographs are not to everyone's taste so I won't be surprised if you Google it and wonder what the hell I see in it. But I loved what I saw in Paris. What I forgot was that Newton was from Berlin, before he fled the city (he was Jewish). The Museum of Photography here was built by the Helmut Newton Foundation. It features an exhibition of Newton's personal belongings including condolence letters to his wife, June, and documentary footage of Newton at work. The footage was different to what I saw in Paris.

I caught the train back to Prenzlauer Berg and had a German dinner of schitzel and roast potatoes followed by apple strudel before meeting Annika at Kaffee Burger, a music venue down the road from my hostel. Friends of hers were playing in a band. The music is described as "gypsy pop" and to give you an idea of what that entails, the instruments used by the two bands we saw included a clarinet, accordian, trumpet, double bass and a duck whistle. Of course all the singing was in German - apart from one chorus of one song, although Annika had to point that out to me because I'd stopped paying attention to the lyrics and just enjoyed the music.

I was trying to find a sample of the music and came across this video from the gig I was at. It's the second band that played, Polkageist. Go to about 2:30 and then 5:40 to get a sense of the energy.

Berlin: Day 3 | Exploring the neighbourhoods

Berlin, like most major cities, is full of neighbourhoods so much in contrast to each other you'd think you were in a different city. To make the most of my time here I decided to stay in two different areas - firstly in Schöneberg with my Couchsurfing host Annika, and then in a hostel in Prenzlauer Berg.

On Wednesday morning I left my bag at the hostel and headed to Brandenburg Gate (again) to join a Sandeman's walking tour (again). I've joined Sandeman's tours in Edinburgh and more recently in Prague and always enjoyed them. The tours are free, but you're expected to tip the guide at the end. They make the point - and quite rightly - that it forces the guides to put a lot of effort in.

The three-hour tour covered a lot of ground I'd already seen, but at least this time I had some idea what I was seeing. I really enjoyed revisiting the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. When I'd come by the day before I'd just looked at it from the edge without even knowing what it was. This time I walked through. The concrete slabs are different heights and the ground goes up and down so walking through the maze of paths is eerie. Our guide, Alex, asked at the end what we'd taken from it and some people compared it to what many Jews must have experienced - feeling lost, trapped, unsure of where the enemy was. Apparently the artist who designed it has never spoken about his own interpretation.



Alex led us to a car park in front of some apartment buildings before announcing we were standing on top of Hitler's bunker. One kid on the tour asked if Hitler committed suicide on April 30 or May 1. He was relieved when Alex confirmed it was April 30 - the kid's mum explained he was born on May 1 and didn't want to share his birthday with the day Hitler died.

The highlight of the tour, however, was finally finding out what was up with the pedestrian traffic lights. Some of the green and red men looked as they should, but others had different images.

Here's the story: The little traffic light man is Ampelmännchen. Which isGerman for little traffic light man. No joke. I Googled it. The different lights were introduced in East Berlin to revamp the traffic lights. Ampelmännchen was also part of a road safety program in schools.  When the wall fell the city reverted back to the "traditional" signals until the East Berliners got nostalgic and asked for them back. There are stores that sell Ampelmännchen merchandise. I resisted.



The tour finished near Alexanderplatz where I jumped on the underground to head to the Friedrichshain neighbourhood.





In my pre-trip research I'd come across an obscure mention of a cafe called Factory Girl that took my fancy. It was getting dark by the time I hit Simon-Dach strasse, a street filled with cafes and restaurants. Factory Girl specialises in Magnolia - a dessert that's hard to describe. It's a creamy mixture of that almost looks like uncooked cake and comes served with all sorts of toppings. I chose white chocolate and raspberries, and mixed forest fruits. It's inspired by a bakery in New York that I'll have to check out next time I'm there.



After two helpings of magnolia I skipped the train and walked back to the city centre. The TV Tower really helps with my orientation in Berlin. If I can see it and it doesn't look to far away, I just walk. Gets a little tricky when you get closer and tall buildings block it. But I get there eventually.

Back in Prenzlauer Berg I finished my book in the hostel before grabbing some dinner. I'm spending a lot of money on food this trip.

Berlin: Day 2 | A history lesson

Back home in Burnie, the best fish and chips come from the old school take away next to a service station, not the fancy cafe right on the sand. Which place do you think a visitor is going to end up at? Correct. Tourists pay twice as much for crap fish and chips by the beach.

Eating out is one of my favourite things about travelling. In Florence, dinner at il Latini was an experience and a highlight. As was eating a Nutella crepe on the summit of a mountain in the French Pyrenees from a make-shift cafe powered by a generator. But as a traveller, I am disadvantaged when it comes to knowing where to go for a good meal.

So when my CouchSurfing host Annika told me she'd made reservations at a cafe for breakfast I was excited. And with good reason. I could have roamed the streets of Berlin for hours and hours and not had the slightest chance of finding Café BilderBuch.

The cafe, with its tiny front door, is in Schöneberg. Even people who live in the area must walk by without knowing what's inside. At the back of the cafe is a giant living room - it's the only way to describe it. The walls are lined with bookcases, some tables are surrounded by couches, others belong in a fancy dining room. There are antique lamp shades, beautifully framed pictures and lovely knick-knacks around the place.  Our table faced a grandfather clock and an artist working away at an easel.



If you go out for breakfast in Germany, don't be expecting pancakes or eggs and bacon. The dishes are mostly some type of meat or fish served with fruit, salad, cheese and bread. I ordered smoked salmon, but couldn't eat that much of it that early in the morning so instead went to work on the bread basket.

Annika had class in the afternoon so I headed into the city. It was forecast to rain every day of my trip, but so far it had held off. Nothing a hood pulled on couldn't handle.

There are apparently some great markets in Berlin, but unfortunately most are held on the weekend. Luckily on the good ones, the Turkish Market at Maybachufer, is open on a Tuesday. The market was mostly food - fruit and veg, cheese, meats, deli items etc. I probably would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't stuffed myself on the bread basket.



From the market I toodled off down the road and ended up at Oranienstrasse. I wasn't walking to anything in particular, but then saw this:



I figured it was worth checking it out. It turned out to be a piece commissioned for a street art program. It's done by an artist called Victor Ash. It's often confused as a Banksy and I found out later that some tours even tell people as such. Banksy, a British street artist, uses stencils. This piece though isn't stencil work. When you stand close you can see the faded grid marked out. It's the same technique used in painting the Sistine Chapel. I was slightly disappointed with the Sistine Chapel - perhaps if Michaelangelo painted a giant astronaut I would have found it more interesting.

Oranienstrasse turned out to be packed with some amazing art. I spied some cool looking cafe's too, but that damn bread basket ruined my appetite for hours! I covered a lot of ground on foot, ending up at Tacheles - an abandoned building that was converted into an artists squat. I'd seen pictures of its interior and wanted to see for myself, but it was closed. I found out later city officials shut it a few months ago. Apparently there is some covert access although I'm not sure I'd want to risk it.



In the afternoon I returned to Brandenburg Gate with the intention of joining Sandeman's free walking tour at 4pm. Unfortunately I picked up the summer brochure instead of the winter one that would have told me the 4pm tour doesn't run during winter.

Back to the streets I went, this time walking along Friedrichstrasse - Berlin's major shopping street. I walked all the way down to Checkpoint Charlie. I won't rehash my thoughts on that place - you can read them here.

I visited some museums, including one about the Ministry for State Security - or Stasi, as it was known - and the Topography of Terror. It's fair to say that I learnt more about World War II, the Cold War and the Berlin Wall in those three hours than I did over my 17 years of school and university education.

Berlin: Day 1

Who knows what attracts people to different countries and places.  I couldn’t tell you why I want to go to Alaska, Turkey or spend time road tripping across Montana. I just do. I also couldn’t tell you why I’ve never been that interested in going to Germany. I just wasn’t.

I use wasn’t in the past tense. Despite my lack of interest in Germany, for whatever reason, I’m not one to pass up a cheap flight. I had five days holiday and the flight from Manchester to Berlin was convenient. Well as convenient as an international flight leaving at 6.45am can be.

I met my Couchsurfing host, Annika, about 12pm and by 1pm it felt like I’d known her forever. After lunch and my introduction to German bread – which, by the way, is amazing – we headed into the city.

Our first stop was Brandenburg Gate. It’s a landmark in Berlin and I'm sure I was meant to be excited at the sight of it, but there's only so many European grand structures one can summon enthusiasm for. It’s only a short walk from there to Berlin’s distinctive parliament building, the Reichstag. The Reichstag is a building I can get excited for. The newer part of it (the glass beehive) looks a little odd, but it beats Parliament House in Canberra. Inside is meant to be equally as impressive, but you have to book days ahead to secure a time to go in.



We walked back into the city centre, to the Hackescher Markt area. Knowing I was keen to see some of the city's famous street art, Annika took me to some wonderful little courtyards and alleys I never would have found on my own and then we visited some great art bookshops (some of the photography books were incredible).





On the way home we stopped at the supermarket to get some things to dinner (I had to help Annika cook something with pumpkin - she'd bought one, but had never cooked with it before). We ended up roasting the pumpkin and having it with pasta and a sun-dried tomato pesto. Yum!

I love visiting supermarkets in other countries - sometimes finding the similarities is just as amusing (and enlightening) as the difference.

Cruising the Peak District

There are more than 2000 miles of canals in the UK. This information can be found on Wikipedia, or from my friendly canal boat captains, Mark and Ruth - and I prefer the personal touch. Mark and Ruth own Wandering Duck, a 69-foot narrowboat from which they help people explore England's Peak District. The Peak District is east of Manchester and thought to be the second most visited National Park. Now that tidbit did come from Wikipedia. And in case you're wondering, the most visited is Mt Fuji National Park in Japan.



Journalism has its perks, such as those rare occasions when one is tasked with doing something cool just to write about it. In this particular case that lucky journalist was my friend Claire, one of several ex-Advocate journos in the UK. Claire was offered a weekend away on Wandering Duck to write an article for TNT Magazine. And she got to take a friend. Turns out there are also perks to being unemployed and therefore free for last-minute adventures. I held off on this post until Claire's article was published.

The weekend started with a pint of cider in a small pub in Romiley. A car tyre had got cosy with the propeller and the boat wasn't going anywhere until it was off. In the end we caught a taxi to where the boat was moored, arriving just a few minutes after Mark had stripped to his undies to get into the river to pull the tyre free. We saw the photo though.

So about Wandering Duck. Ruth and Mark have worked in hostels and wanted to buy one. But they don't come cheap so instead the couple bought the canal boat and turned it into a floating backpackers. Some nights they moor and open it simply as accommodation and other times escort people through the canals. We're doing the latter. Claire and I are joined by five others for the two-night trip. The boat is called Rakiraki, which is Maori for duck. It's a little nod to the time Mark and Ruth spent in New Zealand. Rakiraki has four sets of bunks, two bathrooms, a double bed up one end (Mark and Ruth live on the boat) and a kitchen/lounge. It's snug.

The tyre held things up a bit so we spent the night moored at Romiley. Ruth prepared an awesome meal so we tucked into lasagne and cheesecake. There's an Honesty Bar so we marked down what we drank to settle at the end of the trip. It's easy to get carried away when all you need to get a drink is a pen. The drinking also didn't help our efforts at Jenga.

In the morning we are up early. There are 16 locks waiting for us. And these aren't the automatic, push-a-button-and-wait style I am familiar with after France. These require a lot of, winding and pushing and pulling. It's a good way to work off the chocolate brownies Ruth made at the request of Tim, one of the other guests from Manchester.

After the locks and two bridges, we relax with a cuppa and a brownie at the front of the boat. Every now and then we hear some traffic, but the noise is usually limited to a few cows in the paddocks and dogs out for a walk with their owners along the canal. The countryside is just what English countryside is supposed to look like (according to BBC classics such as Heartbeat). Rolling green paddocks, sheep and cows, stone fences and cute cottages. It's what I expect of Britain and I don't understand how people can visit London and say they've seen the UK - you haven't seen anything and you're missing out.



We're lucky with the weather. A few little drops which caused me to pull my hood over my head for a few minutes, but that's all. Barely even jacket weather. Despite it being a weekend we didn't pass many other boats on the move. But there were plenty moored on the side looking quite at home.



On Saturday night we moored near New Mills, a nearby town that we walk out to. It's a nice walk and we pass an old mill of some sort. It's a gorgeous building and when I win the lottery I shall buy it and turn it into....something. When we get back Ruth has a casserole waiting. We all turn to the Honesty Bar again and this time it's a game of Bamboozled.

After just 24 hours on the boat it felt like we'd been away for a week. The locks that we'd gone through in the morning felt days ago, not hours. I think this is what relaxation feels like.

[caption id="attachment_2614" align="aligncenter" width="960" caption="A gorgeous old mill we found on our walk"][/caption]

In the morning we were up early and docked about 11am at Bugsworth Basin, the boat's home. We'd covered 10 miles, but since the speed limit was about 4mph and we had all those locks, you can see why it took us so long.

A big thank you to Claire for the photos. I was still sans camera on this trip.

The fun and games of the Olympics

[caption id="attachment_2565" align="aligncenter" width="584" caption="Me and Claire at the Hyde Park Live Site"][/caption]

If you're not very interested in sport, then I apologise for the recent content of Pegs on the Line. And I suppose, in advance, for this post. But then the Olympics aren't really sport. Well of course there is sport, but there's a lot more to it.

A few years ago, when considering my ever-so-vague plans to move to the UK one day, I decided that to be there for the 2012 Olympics in London would be pretty cool. Those vague plans remained just that and while I thought perhaps I might end up in London at that time, it wasn't something I worked towards.

Then, after a quick decision just two days earlier, I found myself sitting in a pub in the London suburb of Shepards Bush watching the Queen jump out of a helicopter.

Watching the opening ceremony in London surrounded by Aussie's might seem a bit silly, but the Olympics is, ultimately, country against country. So to me it was fitting. While a few references to British culture were lost on the audience, most went down a treat - Mary Poppins, Mr Bean, Mike Oldfield and Paul McCartney. It helped that Aussies love British humour. Some countries must have been utterly baffled by the odd guy at the piano.

The next day Claire, a friend from Tassie, and I caught the train to Richmond to check out the men's cycling road race. The sight of the crowds staking their claim along course brought back memories of the Tour de France, which finished the week before. The competitor list was also familiar - most having competed in le Tour. We hadn't got moving early enough to see the riders pass in the morning, but instead saw them come back through about 3pm.

During the wait we got talking to some British cycling fans who were very keen to see Mark Cavendish do well. The infrequent reports we had while on the course suggested Aussie Stuart O'Grady was part of a breakaway but Cav, the rest of the British team and the remaining Australians were back in the peloton. That was still the case when they went by.



The riders had 15km to go once they passed us so we headed back to the main street to find a pub to watch the finish. We came across a gathering of people outside a house and peered in to find the owners had opened their front window giving the crowd a view of the TV in the living room. It was there we learnt Alexander Vinokourov had won. He rode for Team Astana in le Tour and was one of the riders to watch the Euro 2012 final in the hotel bar with us back in Liege.

I later heard about 1million people turned out to watch the road race. The large turn out would have been partly because it's one of only a handful of free events and also the huge boost cycling has received thanks to Bradley Wiggins' le Tour win.



Back in the city we walked to Hyde Park to visit the live site. Part of Hyde Park has been sectioned off and filled with five huge screens to show various sports. Entry is free although it involved one of the most thorough security checks I've experienced.





Rain was forecast for the weekend, but we didn't see any sign of that while we stretched out on the bark. On top of the live streaming of events, there will also be two performances each day. Tom Jones was originally due to perform on Saturday night, but he was sick so instead we got Will Young, a winner of Britian's Pop Idol series 10 years ago. I was pretty disappointed Tom wasn't singing, even if the first I'd heard of him performing at all was the sentence "Tom Jone's isn't singing anymore". But Will Young was entertaining, certainly enough to have me nearly doubled over in laughing fits. He started the gig in a horrible Hawaiian shirt with the promise of a second outfit later. I thought anything would be an improvement, but I was proved wrong when he stripped down to a white singlet and undies.

With my trip being so last minute I wasn't in a position to get tickets to any events. The only ones left aren't cheap and the release of more tickets after the "seating fiasco" occurred when I was back in Scotland. But being in London was good fun anyway. The Brits have adopted an extremely patriotic approach to the whole event - it's Team GB first, London 2012 second - but just as their enthusiasm in Paris for the last day of le Tour was great fun, it's hard not to get caught up in it here.

As for the city becoming a commuter's nightmare? Not so much. The Tube was perhaps as empty as I've ever seen it. The signage was been improved, although it was pretty good anyway, and you can't look puzzled for more than three seconds before a volunteer asks if they can help. Nicely done, London.

Le Tour Day 2: Getting a taste for VIP

Enjoying the 2012 Le Tour prologue in the VIP section was an experience. But in a lot of ways it isn't the Le Tour experience I'd expected. I was prepared to stand by the course for hours, brave the sun, ration my food and drink supplies and wait and wait to cheer on the riders. Instead I had free food and drink on hand, a TV screen to watch the coverage, a seat, shade and clean toilets on hand. (If you've ever attended any mass event, you know how important this is.)

So when my second day of Le Tour action rolled around, I was looking forward to slumming it like a true fan. Then a friendly Green Edge PR girl offered me another VIP pass.

Stage 1 started in Liege and finished at Seraing, about 15km away. So I intended to watch the start, then catch a train to Seraing to see the finish. On my way to check out the team buses again I ran into another Aussie. Hugh was also looking for the Green Edge bus so we went hunting together. The crew were really friendly and appreciated the support.

Today's course did a loop through the city so Hugh and I watched the riders go by once, then raced over the footbridge and saw them a second time on their way out of town. We then spent a few hours walking around Liege before heading to Seraing, which was were the VIP section was.

After 10 minutes on the train it stopped on the tracks. There were no buildings. Just tracks and grass. But apparently this was the stop for Seraing. After walking across the tracks, around the back of some houses, through a field and a car park, we found a shuttle waiting to take people up to the finish line. You gotta give Le Tour organisers some credit. They know how to put on an event.

I was inside the VIP section when Dave, Nick and Luke - the Sydney boys I met the day before - spotted me from across the road. I managed to wrangle three extra passes so I wasn't the only one enjoying VIP for the second day in a row. There were a lot more crew in the area today. Yesterday they were kept at the bus all day, but with the riders all out on the course today they had nothing to do. The families of some of the Green Edge riders were there too, as I found out when I asked Stuart O'Grady's son who his favourite rider was and he responsed "my Dad".

[caption id="attachment_2454" align="aligncenter" width="960" caption="The Green Edge VIP Aussie fan club: Dave, Luke, Me, Hugh and Nick."][/caption]

At the end of the race we walked around the media section (these VIP passes are gold) and watched Fabian Cancellara being interviewed. He wouldn't come over to sign some autographs which was disappointing. We also met Scott Sunderland - an Aussie cyclist and former Tour rider who is working for SBS.

Back in Liege I joined the boys, and some team and crew members from Astana, to watch the Euro 12 final betweel Italy and Spain. It wasn't much of a contest.

Le Tour VIP style

The “grass is greener” cliché is often just that. A cliché. Except when you’re at Le Tour de France and that grass is a VIP area. Then it is not only green, it is spacious, air-conditioned and comes with free food and drinks.

The first day of the 2012 Le Tour couldn't be more spectator friendly. The prologue is an individual time trial through the Belgium city of Liege. (Le Tour de France often touches into other countries.) The city itself is easy to reach by train, the course big enough to find a decent vantage point and the action continuous for about 3.5 hours.

I left the hostel fully prepared for the day: Aussie flag, sunscreen, permanent marker, food, water etc. The first item became the most valuable of the lot.

At 10am - two hours before the caravan was due - people were already claiming their spot, looking pretty comfortable in their camping chairs on the edge of the course. When the time came, I found a spot under a tree to wait for the caravan.

The Tour de France publicity caravan preceeds the riders for the entire event. Every road the cyclists ride along, the caravan was there two hours before. It's a 45-minute parade of floats and freebies. T-shirts, hats, bags, lollies, cakes, water etc. My haul was rather poor compared to last year. But it's difficult on your own. Some freebies were handed out right on the fence (where I was), others were thrown over my head. It really is a team sport.

After the caravan I checked out the team buses. I stopped at the Orica Green Edge bus for a while, watching the crew prepare. Green Edge is the Australian team - the first at Le Tour. The riders are mostly Australian, with a couple of exceptions. Matt Goss, a Tassie boy, is the team leader. I was chatting to another Aussie, Chris, who was also decked out in appropriate supporter attire, when Dan, the Green Edge cameraman offered us VIP passes in exchange for us doing a quick cheer on camera. Best. Deal. Ever.

[caption id="attachment_2445" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Chris and I earning out VIP passes. Chris scored another pass for his wife Lyn."][/caption]

The VIP area was 250 metres from the finish line, and when we arrived, practically empty. We pulled up a chair right on the fence, grabbed a free beer and enjoyed some sushi. We didn't have to battle crowds, stand for hours to claim a spot, or risk losing it if we went for food or drink. In short, it rocked.

The best feature was the live coverage on the TV. It meant we knew what was going on. We saw rider after rider whizz by, but without the TV we would have had no idea how everyone was standing.

Green Edge sent a few more decorated Aussies into the VIP area, including three guys from Sydney. Nick, Dave and Luke are following most of the tour, including the mountain stages, which I think are the most fun.

After the last rider, Aussie favourite Cadel Evans, crossed the line, we enjoyed champagne and macaroons as the crowd disappeared. The boys got talking to a Belgium guy, Mark, they'd met earlier, who was walking by. He invited us for beers so off we went. Mark was a little odd, but gave us a good introduction to Belgium beers. One of them had a alcohol percentage of 11.3%. I didn't finish that.

[caption id="attachment_2446" align="aligncenter" width="584" caption="Sydney boys Nick, Luke and Dave with our Belgium mate Mark."][/caption]

Noticed my lack of pictures? The day was slightly dampened by having my bag stolen in the evening, with my camera in it. This is why travel insurance is never a waste of money.

Last day in Prague: Going solo again

My last day in Prague was a day of mixed feelings. I was super excited to be heading to Belgium. Just when it seemed like my trip couldn’t get any more fun, I still had two days at Le Tour de France awaiting me. On the other hand, today was my last day with my parents. They fly home tomorrow.

On days I have to travel somewhere, regardless of what time my flight/train/bus is, I can't really relax. I'm always looking at the time. Keeping that in mind, today we decided just to explore the Castle. Prague Castle is the biggest ancient castle in the world and is a suitably imposing sight. Sitting on top of a hill overlooking the city, it's the most distinctive landmark in the skyline. And the most creepy.

 

The grounds of the castle are free to enter. You can buy a pass into some of the buildings. With only a few hours to spend there, we bought a short pass giving us access to the Basilica of St. Vitus, St George's Basilica, Old Royal Palace and Golden Lane. While the Basilica has a very medieval look, the surrounding buildings are painted candy pink, yellow and green. They look like doll houses.

St.Vitus Basilica has the most incredible stain glass windows. There were a few wedding photographs being taken inside, although only for promotion. The bride was wearing converse shoes under her dress.





I'm always amazed at the size of some of the buildings. Just how much space did people need back then? I guess the same can be asked of modern houses now. They just keep getting bigger and bigger.

At 3pm Mum and I watched the changing of the guards. What a job. The "hone how was your day" conversation in the evening must get a bit repetitive.



That afternoon I farewelled my parents at the train station and caught the City Night Line again, this time to Cologne in Germany. I had an early morning change onto the ICE train to Liege in Belgium.

From the street: A walking tour in Prague

I’m a budget traveller at heart. The cheaper I travel, the longer I can travel. So the word “free” gets me excited. A popular little trend in Europe is free walking tours. They are held in most major cities; I’ve done two in Barcelona and one in Edinburgh. There were none offered in Italy – too much money to be made I guess.

The largest company to offer these tours is New Europe – it organises them in 14 cities. Curious as to why this company would offer free tours when so many people are willing to fork out big time for such things? Well there is a catch. The tours are free, however the guides rely on tips for income. The best tours I’ve done have been this type – you get (usually) young, energetic, knowledgeable guides, who are entirely aware that if they don’t do a good job, they don’t make rent.

Our guide today was Karel, a native Czech. It makes sense but it isn’t always the case. While most guides have studied history or something similar, Karel has a degree in psychology and drama therapy. The latter made for an interesting show. Our tour was three hours, with a 25-minute break. We spent most of the time in the Old Town before moving into the Jewish Quarter. I’m not even going to touch on what we learnt, but it covered a lot of history. But Karel, ever so entertaining, didn’t make us feel like we were back in school.

I have to add a note here about how amusing I find foreign English sometimes. Karel explained how as well as a birthday, Czech’s also celebrate their name day. “You go to pub two times,’’ he said. Karel also described the end of the Velvet Revolution (when the Czech Republic and Slovakia were formed) as the Velvet Divorce. He was clever.





We finished the tour overlooking the Prague Castle and then walked back to the Communism Museum, which we had passed on the tour. The entrance to the Museum is flanked by a McDonald’s and a casino. Seeing that alone is worth a visit to the museum. After visiting China and Vietnam I’m well aware of Communism and its effects on a population, but it’s still hard to take in. However, unlike China and Vietnam, the Czech Republic fought for its freedom.

 

Later, in search of dinner, we walked crossed the river and enjoyed another hearty Czech meal, this time on the other side of the river. We came across a statue Karel had told us about. Two guys peeing into a map of the Czech Republic. I'm sure art critics have a field day with this.

 We walked back home over the Charles Bridge.

 

Prague: Weird buildings, good food and sex machines

Prague, like a few of my destinations on this trip, has intrigued me for a while. Yet, I really didn’t know anything about it. When our train arrived on Tuesday morning, I had no idea what to expect. Would the former communist country fit the stereotype I have of Russia? Is it more like its closer neighbours in Eastern Europe? Has a more cosmopolitan influence crept over? Or would everybody be eating McDonalds and drinking Starbucks?

Prague is the end of the line for one of the City Night Line routes. The overnight train runs between several countries. Our train from Zurich travelled through Germany, stopping at Berlin, before entering the Czech Republic. My first great relief, when we pulled into the main station after travelling overnight on the City Night Line from Zurich, was it was cheap. After barely 24-hours in Switzerland, I was conscious of my bank balance.

We didn’t get organised in time to make a walking tour I’m interested in, so we decided to leave that for the next day and instead explore the city. When we reach the river, the little peddle boats cruising about in the fading sun looks fun, so we jump on. It costs us 250CHZ – or about $12.50 AUD – for an hour. From the water we can take in the weird city that Prague is.



The buildings are colourful and the architecture rather medieval. It’s a gothic San Francisco. The lamp posts are eerie, there are spires on nearly every building and the statues are just as creepy. I’ve never seen another city like it. But it fits with the appeal of this mysterious place.

We walk into the Old Town, although to me, the whole place looks pretty old. I can’t get over the number of tourists. Everywhere. Perhaps they’ve followed us from Venice?

We’d skipped lunch after a late breakfast so were famished. But we are in the right country to be satisfied. We take a seat at the first restaurant we find. Mum and I start with a hearty potato soup – no blender used here. Chunks of potato. I wipe the bowl clean using the free bread that seems to be a standard across Europe. For mains I chose the roasted leg of lamb with a red wine sauce. It’s service with tradition Czech bread dumplings. Dad’s meal included the potato dumplings, another Czech staple. The meals here are filling. Lots of meat and starch. But for a long time most of the population didn’t know where there next meal was coming from, so they made each one count.

When looking up a map of the city, an intriguing museum came to my attention. On our way to the Old Town Square we walked past it. At only 200 CHZ each we decided to check it out and stepped into the Sex Machines Museum. Interested? I was.

The opening exhibits resembled machines used to spin wool, with a big wheel (like one used to steer a boat) spinning round. However attached to each spoke on the wheel was a little, leather whip, and on the other one, feathers. In case you can’t quite work this out, they are designed for women to stand over. The feather one had a little press peddle to make it turn.

It only got more inventive, weird and funny from there. My favourite? The anti-masturbation machine. Strap the end on to your teenage son’s penis and if, at some point in the night, he gets excited, an alarm will ring at the other end of the machine, which is placed in the parents’ bedroom. Genius.

The machines were as creative and inventive as they were perverted and disturbing. Perhaps a late-night edition of New Inventors is in order….