Open Letter to Rick Steves
No Comments Mr. Steves (and crew),
Your guide book series has the motto “Europe Through the Back Door“; and the back cover of my copy of the “Best of Europe 2006″ proclaims that one can “Experience the culture like a local– you’ll spend less money and have more fun.” These books are canon for the savvy American tourist headed for Europe, and my own anecdotal experience with these books (tips and tricks) have been spot on.
However, in our travels, we will just be tourists staying in hostels, hotels, and bed & breakfasts. What have I found in these places? More tourists, nothing but tourists. Who do I meet while sightseeing (or just wandering in town)? Tourists. Who will I mostly talk to? You got it, Tourists.
And for the sites and attractions we visit, our eyes see only other tourists; our ears only hear other tourists; our food is eaten with other tourists; we are still, metaphorically speaking, on the outside looking in. So how can we really experience the true feeling of Europe, like a local, when we are just surrounded only by other tourists?
A friend of mine introduced me to something called CouchSurfing. CouchSurfing is a worldwide community of travelers– currently about 80,000 people– who open up their homes (couches and spare beds) to each other– gratis. Although free accommodation is a great motivation for travelers to partake in the community, the idea is much more about making connections with each other around the world– and really getting to know local life– through acts of openness and generosity by both guest and host. With this concept, I have been making my way through Europe and meeting many great people along the way. What I’ve experienced in this community can never be matched by strictly traveling, through Europe, with your guidebooks alone. Actually, the concept complements your advice and I have been greatly enriched by my experiences with this community.
I think that as part of your 2006 Europe research itinerary, this idea– this community– should be on the top of your research list. I think that your guidebook audience will have much to gain by learning about this community. There is a chance for you (and your crew) to get a first hand view of the European Couch Surfing Community: the European Couch Surfing community is getting together for a week long conference in Eisenstadt, Austria starting July 21st. Come, visit, and see how this strong community is working to better build connections between travelers and locals around the world. Your audience will benefit from what you learn by seeing this community in action.
Still Traveling,
Ben
http://badpopcorn.com/
Budapest
No Comments I left Vienna on a train for Budapest. The ride was a uneventful, the passing scenery compensated with very beautiful scenery. Oh, and riding first class rocked… nice leather seats, pull down shades, air-conditioning. It was so comfortable that I didn’t get a headache reading Bill Bryson’s “The Lost Continent”– I’m not saying that the book is horrible, it’s actually quite good.
I arrived in the late afternoon; I was met by my host, Reka, at the train station; and we went back to the flat to drop off my stuff. I wasted no time to settle in and went off to see the city. Reka walked me a bit around town for a nice tour, but we parted– some people actually have to go to work– ways and I sat down for some dinner. I ordered the traditional Hungarian Goulash, and I was so hungry that I shoveled it down my throat before I thought to take a picture. I did take a picture of the sweet cottage cheese dumplings served over a sour yogurt and with powdered sugar and honey. The goulash was very tasty and the dumplings topped me off, I actually went into a food coma. I had to walk it off; then called it a night because the walk didn’t wake me up.
Friday, the next day, we went out to a cafe where I tried a local soft drink. I was quite pleased that Reka mentioned the existence of such a pre-1989 Soviet era soft drink. In the day where the almighty Coca-Cola dominates the global market, and squashing smaller local beverage companies, I was glad to try something new (to me). I quite liked the taste of the drink because it reminded me of the “Lemon” soft drinks from Japan– citrus and sweet.
I parted ways with Reka– work responsibilities again– and spent the rest of the day walking about the city… I mean, I really walked and walked and walked… I was so dead tired that it was apparent to others. I would have liked to provide some nice historical (or insightful) stories about the pictures here, but I can only present them as random places in the city of which I mindlessly took pictures:
The following pictures are, however, of the castle located directly west of the river. The climb up to this castle (and the walk down) finished me off. I’m not sure if I was fully able to enjoy the castle, I think my mind shut down when I got there. But I know that I saw no fewer that three churches in that castle… that’s the interesting story I could tell– gosh I was tired. 
After spending the rest of that night recuperating, we got up Saturday to visit a small town (used to be a size of a village just a few years ago) about 30 minutes north of Budapest. The town had no tourists when we arrived, but had a fair amount by the time we left. We went for lunch through a back alley up the hill into a small niche where a fast food lunch shop had set up shop… and it sold Lángos (first picture). This treat is a piece of deep fried dough that is traditionally covered in cheese, sour cream, and garlic sauce; I had one with sausages stuffed in the dough. These things are high in calories and fat! It was explain, to me, that the Hungarian people used to be nomadic so they needed foods that could give them enough energy to travel long distances. This dish definitely met those requirements. We sat up at the top of the hill, next to a church, trying to polish off these greasy lumps. I came close, but it KO’d me. We sat around for a time longer so our stomachs could digest. Not that we were in a rush because our plan was to spend the rest of the day leisurely walking through the town and down the river banks; a stop in a garden cafe helped us wake up; and finally left for Budapest when we had enough.
My final full day in Budapest was spent indoors watching DVDs, with a side trip to the Hero’s Square. I got caught in the rain, again. But the rain came down in such a way that gave me a feeling that I haven’t felt since I was a child in Yellowstone National Park. The sun was shining warmth down upon me, the rain came flowing straight down in wide spread drops, and I could look up into the sky and feel it all come down without actually getting wet. It was quite odd, and it was quite euphoric. It’s something that I just can’t properly put to words. Anyways, the rain came down for a good 5 minutes, while I stood in the square gawking, before it stopped. I walked on to the near-by castle– a small thing tucked inside a large park. It was at this castle where the rain really came pouring down soaking everyone to the bone, everyone not standing under the tree. This happened to be the first time I’ve been caught in the rain, while in shorts and unprepared, without getting soaked; it was a sign. I walked back home after the rain stopped (15minutes) and watched DVDs for the rest of the day. It was much needed rest.
The next day, I set off to Ljubljana, Slovenia.
Conmen in Budapest
1 Comment I was walking, on my way to the castle quarter, down a side street a bit south of the Parliament building in Budapest. Some guy– we shall call him Randy since he looked like Randy Quaid– stopped me and asked if I knew where X- street was. I didn’t, but I did point on the map to where we were just to be helpful. He kept on saying “X-?” What is with this guy? “No, I don’t know what you’re saying, but this is where we are.”
And as I was just about to give up and walk on, some guy comes up saying, “Police, controller.” He quickly flashed his badge and said, “ID, Passport.” Randy shows Mr. Plain Clothes Policeman his ID, and I’m thinking shit, “Why is trouble always finding me today?” (I had a rough day). I obviously had a good guess to what was going on, and my blood started pumping with adrenaline. I thought, “Hmmm. This might be interesting, let’s play it out because I’m not 100% sure about the situation.” I took a calculated risk– partly unthinking, which was probably a bad thing– and handed over my ID. I keep my IDs separate from any cash (or valuables) I carry, so there was no opportunity for a grab and dash. Not that they would’ve gotten anything anyways since I’m not in the habit of carrying around $1500 in cash on my body anyways.
Mr. 1.6 meter tall, and fat, guy takes a look at the ID, and hands it back. I guess there wasn’t any demand for a skinny Asian guy’s ID in Hungary.
“You two together?”
“Nope”, Randy and I reply.
Mr. Police Officer turns to me and says, “You in big trouble. Cocaine, drugs, money fake.”
Hahahahahahahaha. Was that the best they could do?
“No.” I just turned and walked away across the street. The closest person I saw was a block away and I was partly concerned that the con would turn into a full on mugging (two on one), so I was prepared to run or fight. Regardless, that was that and I went off to finish sightseeing. I think I got even more tired after even more walking.
And on reflecting about the situation, I figured that I had two problems:
- I probably made a mistake by showing my ID in the first place, just because it’s kind of a pain to get IDs reissued;
- I must have, in general, hit some sort of travelling fatigue wall because I probably radiated the tired-zoned-out-tourist vibe. I had mentioned this fact before to some friends, but I didn’t come to a full realization until this experience. The fact I had been walking for 4 hours straight, with zero break, when this happened probably didn’t help my rational thought.
I didn’t know about this lost with map trick to stop tourists, and I also learned a valuable lesson: Always beware of the shill.
[Side note: Berlin's streets have lots of Three-card Monte scams. Germany's 18% unemployment rate must be making things tough for people. I counted six different groups (three shills, of mixed gender, partnered up with one dealer) all up and down one main street.]
Vienna
1 Comment Vienna has some rich history and is packed with tourist sites (all within walking distance of each other). But the time I spent here did not reflect an average tourist’s trip, which would’ve ran through the entire list of things to see & do; instead, I mixed my time between laundry, CouchSurfing stuff, and site-seeing.
I arrived on the evening of July 2nd into a somewhat rainy city. I had directions to where my host lived, but had no clue where to go because his street did not show up on the list of Tram stops– the maps I had did not go into great detail and this put me at a loss. After much unease, I ended up, with the help of a Viennese local who happened to be on my train, in the general vicinity (district) of my host’s home. (I was surprised to see so many other Asians in this city who all acted/looked as locals, they probably were). I then popped into an Italian restaurant where I got more specific directions and was able to walk the last 500 meters to my host’s home. His CouchSurfing strategy meeting– the CouchSurfing website was down, and it claimed to be down for good– was still in session so I joined in and met a few more CSers for the productive night.
But the next day was shot; I spent my entire day working out plans for the rest of my trip, doing laundry, and contacting people about CouchSurfing– surfing the web here and there . So my first real day in Vienna was on July 4th and it was a very sunny day. I didn’t do anything to celebrate the holiday, I just toured the city. My tour began with a tram ride around the city center. I got on the #2 tram at the Opera (pictured: front and back), which travels counter-clockwise, for the ride and eased my way into knowing the city.
My 72 hour transportation pass– this time I double-checked the timestamp in case I ran into any transportation controllers– allowed me to hop on and off at any stop. So when I saw some interesting activity over in the Rathaus Plaza, I got off and checked it out. It turned out that I arrived in time for a summer outdoor film festival. Huge rows of chairs were lined up in front of the city hall where a huge theatre screen had been erected. The walkway leading up to the plaza was lined up with vendors selling all different kinds of ethnic foods. I paid an overpriced sum for a light snack and I sat by a streetside fountain; I relaxed for a couple of hours. It was lunch time (a late one at that) and I took the time to catch up on writing in my travel journal. I would have loved to say it was relaxing, but I had been putting myself under great pressure to write volumes… so I’d say it was only partly relaxing.
Afterwards, instead of jumping back onto the tram, I walked passed the Parliament Building (unpictured) to the Museum Quarter where I spent four and a half hours in the Kunsthistorishes Museum looking through the old Habsburg family’s collection. The museum looked like it was once a palace for a royal family, but it was actually built specifically to be a museum. I quite enjoyed the different works on display: Ancient Egyptian artifacts, Ancient Greek artifacts, French art, Italian arts, and Dutch arts… I saw it all, and I think I enjoyed the experience more than the overcrowded Louvre.
Then I walked just across the street to visit the Hofburg palace, a complex that looks much larger than it actually is. I felt that the courtyards I ducked in & out of were more interesting than the grand facades which adorned the main entrances of the palace, they give one a sense that the place was actually a lived-in home.
So after a walk around the palace, and a leisurely stroll through the busy pedestrian streets to the St. Stephan’s Cathedral (unpictured), I got a call (on a lent mobile phone) to meet in the northern part of the city. CouchSurfer party! We met by the Danube river and had some very good gelato. The long lines to the store did not lie, the ice cream was indeed very rich and creamy. My only complaint was that the portions were too small. After the ice cream, we walked over to the tiny Danube island and sat talking at an outdoor beach bar. The funny thing is that the island is man-made and the beach-sand was actually imported in from the Adriatic. After time on the island, we set out to catch the evening’s film back at the Rathaus Plaza. We sat, actually skipping the movie, and had a late night dinner.
The following few days were a blur of more work on the computer and a final round about the city to catch things that I missed. I didn’t even catch them all. I also have lack pictures to show because of museum policies: the Mozart exhibition forbade it completely and it was too dark in the overcrowded Hofburg Treasury (no flash photography). Speaking of which, the Mozart life exhibition was shown– this year being his 250th– at the Albertina museum and it was a very big disappointment for me; it was down right awful. What I really wanted to see was the Albertina’s more “permanent” collection, but they had pulled the masterpieces out of circulation for Mozart.
And that was my time in Vienna. The one thing about this place is that I’ll definitely have something to do when I go back… It’s a small-ish city, but is packed with things to do. The next time I’m there, which should be soonish, the Schonbrunn Palace and the Lipizzaner horses will top my list of things to do.
Overall, I think I quite enjoyed my time in the city.
Days in Krakow
No Comments This entire trip was set up to break any expectations and illusions I had about Europe. So far it seems to have been a success, to which Krakow was no different. I actually had a tiny (itsy-bitsy) little assumption that it would be a city with no real sights, a boring town– to assume makes an “ass” out of “u” and “me”.
I arrived in the late afternoon after a harrowing journey. My obvious exhaustion did not dull my excitement to finally arrive and meet my host, Martin. That enthusiasm gave me a burst of energy for the twenty minute walk south, past the castle, over a river, and through the woods (not really) to Martin’s house (we go). I also got a running commentary of the city center as we walked along, which turned out to be a great way to orient myself in the city. And when I finally settled in, I was ready for something exciting.
And that something was the end of a university school year. Martin and his friends were about to celebrate a successful finish and the prospect of spending the next year studying in the UK. To that, a little gathering was held over at Maciej’s place where we talked, among other things, about Polish politics and global economics (including business and taxes). I’m a nerd, intellectual conversations [pique] my interest. The conversation was easy going and fun, a nice comfortable attitude radiated the room. They made me feel most welcome, I felt like belonged. And as the night drew to a close, we parted ways with the party into the wet weather, where a few of us were still (slightly intoxicated) full of energy.
However, not everything was completely rosy. The CouchSurfing website was down and, at the time, I didn’t know when it would be back up. This was before the “crash” announcement posted on the website the next day. Consequently, I was unable to get in contact with my other Krakow host. And because Martin was to move out of his flat soon, my sleeping accommodations were unknown for Saturday and Sunday nights. I was preparing to go to the hostel, but I did not expect Martin, and his group of friends, to go out of their way to arrange a place for me… they did and they all are incredible people.
Worries aside, the next day, the 29th of June, I set out to visit the infamous Auschwitz concentration camp. Martin informed me that the camp used to be a Polish military base in the town of the same name, the Auschwitz name was what the Nazis had renamed the camp to. The town is actually called OÅ›wiÄ™cim… and that’s the station I got off. It definitely saved me from any more train mishaps. The camp is a little walk out of town, but you can follow the throng of tourists (or take the taxi like I did, out front) to the right as you exit the station. The road will curve left and you’ll see the camp museum (all signs) to your left. I think the total distance was something about 2km (but that’s what I heard, and I didn’t know because you lose a sense of distance when riding in a taxi).
The one striking thing I noticed about the camp is that it was actually three camps, not one. Our tour only granted us access to I and II. Auschwitz I was the original camp which housed political prisoners buildings that were once barracks. If I recall, each building used to house 200 soldiers, but was crammed to about 1000 prisoners per building during Nazi rule.
The infamous train station one sees in all the pictures is actually Auschwitz II, the camp in which most of my pictures were taken.
The texts in history class mentioned that Nazis kept all these prisoners as slave labor in barracks (next picture) and gassed a whole bunch of them (a whole bunch seems a bit glib. I mean they really really really gassed a lot. Close to two million people in Auschwitz II alone, about half the population of Los Angeles in 2003). One generally has associated that a lot of these people were kept in camps… Nope, people were just trained in, separated (fit and unfit workers), and marched off to their respective fates. The majority of people were offloaded and marched down the gravel path (second picture) to the right where the gas chambers were. Only a tiny tiny tiny percentage were ever kept in camps, and those that were generally died because of horrible conditions.
All that is left of the gas chambers are ruins. They were mostly demolished by the camp commanders shortly before the end of the war. The ruins are left, and one can walk right up to them. They feel strangely small for the massive destruction of life they caused.
I have a lot more to share about visiting this camp, but it probably won’t do the visit justice. This is a place that one must visit to even get a sense of its magnitude. I found the whole experience unsettling because the camp itself was very pretty and peaceful, with the grace, cool breeze and wide open spaces… could one forget what happened there? I think not, especially while in front of the actual gas chambers, or while one was walking through the cold barracks of the camp. I felt hunger and depravity when seeing the ruins– quite the polar opposite to what the natural environment was projecting. On the whole, I felt a little surreal about the entire experience.
I was hungry after completing the walking tour, so I had a quick snack, at some local food shop, before heading back to Krakow. And the train ride back involved a transfer so I was prepared for yet another adventure. But nothing crazy happened, but I did meet a few other Polish locals and talked with them all the way back. One was returning from a weekend trip to Bratislava and had a load of luggage, to which I assisted carrying from one train to the other. I think I made it back with no problems partly because the befriended locals helped me along, translating the announcements over the speakers to which train we needed. Whew, I might have missed the train if I didn’t have help.
Back in Krakow, everyone met up for an evening in the Jewish District of Krakow where a couple of its main streets were lit up with cafes and bars. I absolutely love the bar and cafe scene in Krakow. Many of these places are housed in buildings that date back 800 some years. Outside seating crowd the streets, and more tables are housed in underground cellars. Candles, as the main source of light, burned at every table. The atmosphere was very rustic and medieval, but in a very modern and cozy way. I can’t quite describe it except that I wondered how the two seemingly contradictory ideas lived in yet another odd dichotomy.
After a while, we all got the munchies. So outside we went to some snack vendors. The standard treat is a snack called the Zapiekanki, which one would loosely describe as a “Polish Pizza”. One can get any choice of topping on the half sliced baguette, topped with either ketchup or garlic sauce, or both ketchup and garlic sauce. It is a quite tasty treat, I had one topped with ketchup, cheese, green onions and pepperoni. Bellies filled, we called it a night.
I woke up on the morning of the 30th (local time, early) to a message on CouchSurfing’s website. It looked like the site had crashed for good and people were throwing in the towel. Oh no, this was going to completely change my travels. But more importantly, I really loved the concept and my experiences with it. So I set about registering SaveCouchSurfing.ORG and began setting up a very simple site. I would have loved to put more time into doing it and maintaining it with up to date info, but I was travelling; I also had help from a couple other friends around the world. Anyways, I had to get going over to Maciej’s place so I left the site to itself under Alan’s care. We really didn’t need to do much because the site was more about getting the word out that people weren’t ready to let CouchSurfing die than actually recreating the CouchSurfing website.
After settling in at Maciej’s place, I went off to walk about the city center. And I need to reiterated that the town square is HUGE. It sports an entire clock tower and shopping mall in its center. It’s the biggest in Europe, and I believe it to be true. And after a bit of running around and seeing the sights, getting to know the city, I met up with Maciej at a bar to watch the day’s World Cup games. We basically hung out at a couple of pubs to watch the day’s games. Not too exotic, just a time to hang out and watch the games. Plus having a drink in ancient underground cellar is very endearing thing to me, I had a very enjoyable time.
After the last game finished, we went to a club some place in Krakow (don’t ask me where because I was just following Maciej). We walked up three flights of stairs, in a run down squatter building (or seemed like a squatter’s building), into rooms of black lights and disco balls spinning along with the beat of electronica music. There were plenty of people packed in the club dancing the night away. It was in this crowd that we met up with another group of Maciej’s friends. Sorry, no pictures; nothing really interesting to say about the club. But after visiting the club, we were riding the bus back home when a controller went around the bus checking everybody’s ticket. I thought nothing of it and showed him the 24hr pass I bought that day. Oh it’s the little things that always gets you since it turns out that I incorrectly stamped the ticket. The controller could only see a couple of the numbers out of the long timestamp. So what does this mean? This meant that Maciej and I had to get off the bus and argue with the controller for a good 15 minutes about the situation. In the end, there was no budging and I had to pay a fine– lesson learned.
The next day, I checked into a hostel (Maciej also was moving out of his place) then went to the Salt Mines outside the city. I didn’t expect much from such a visit. I had asked myself how much entertainment an underground cave could really provide. Let me say that the mine was definitely more than just a hole in the ground. I’m not quite convinced that admission fee made for a fair deal, but I think that’s problematic with the majority of tourist sites. The value of the tour lay in discovering that entire large rooms were carved out by hand in old times; the statues are all carved by miners; there are full underground churches and hospitals. The place is just amazing, like I were visiting the dwarfs found in the Lord of the Rings.
I followed the Salt Mines tour up by walking about the castle grounds located a block away from my hostel, a quick trip just to see it for completeness. Then I spent the rest of the day watching the game in the hostel, and ate a BBQ dinner. I found this particular hostel very luxurious. That is, it catered to all the small needs I’ve always found lacking in a hostel: free Internet (although, one computer infected with a trojan I spent 20 minutes removing), simple included breakfast of breads (and various jams), free lockers (with locks), nice private bathrooms (clean, with lots of hooks to hang things), a shelf per bed (with electrical outlets on each one), private lamps, a theatre room, pool table recreation, and two lounge rooms with a single bar. But even so, I found the hostel environment to be lacking. I still felt very isolated in amongst so many people. I did meet and talk to several people, but everyone seems to be “the same”. That is, everyone is an excited traveller, going clubbing, and excessively drinking. I won’t tell you which hostel it was because I don’t want them to have your business, even if the hostel amenities were superb– the place just chaffs my hide.
And I finally I checked out of the hostel on the 2nd of July and hopped on a train to Vienna. I was to spend a few days with a host in Vienna, who also happened to host, that evening, a local meeting of CouchSurfers. The meeting’s goal was to do some strategic planning about what was needed to rescue the CouchSurfing community– everything is fine now, but nobody was sure about it at the time. I arrived in Vienna that evening and was able to participate for the last bits of the meeting; and I tried to help as much as I could the following few days. More about that sometime later.
Ben’s Wild Ride to Krakow
3 Comments I was on my way out of Prague, on the 28th of June, on a train to Krakow. I unfortunately had to buy a ticket (yet another expense) because Poland was not covered by my pan-Europe EuroRail pass, yet the country was covered by a regional pass– go figure. So I reluctantly handed over some cash to get on Train A bound for that Polish city.
I generally like to be prepared through knowing what actions I needed to take whenever going from point A to point B, but all I knew this time around was that I needed to get off at the border (Ostava) and change trains once– I thought it was once, the website said once.
Anyways, I got to Ostava and hopped off onto the awaiting platform. Ok… Nothing (absolutely nothing) was in English and I don’t know Polish. This was my first hint that trouble may ensue. But instead of being dumbfounded, like I wanted to be, standing, with a blank face, on the platform, I set off to find the train I needed by heading towards the ticketing center (always by the main exit). After about five minutes, I got to the window and was directed to platform 2. I ran all the way there, which is a hard feat when burdened with a heavy backpack. I had, when I arrived to the platform, a sneaking suspicion that I had missed my train, but after some help I was ushered onto the waiting Train B to Bohumin. My ticket did say that I would be passing through Bohumin. Hope glimmered in my mind, “Ok, maybe I’m not screwed.”
BUT, the conductor told me that I needed to make a few more changes to get to Krakow. Ok, I guess I got on the wrong train. I was screwed. And to make matters worse, the new route would take me into Krakow by 20:30… I left Prague at 8:00 and was expected by 15:00, this would set me back about 5 hours! At that point, I sighed and was resigned to the fact that I needed to keep going. My only alternative was to be stranded and homeless for the night.
I got off Train B at Bohumin only to have an hour layover before Train C left. I waited outside the station in that super small town (from what I could tell) just trying to calm down from a near panic. As my hour was almost up, I went back to the platform to find Train C… Where was “Platform 1A”??? I see “Platform 1″… crap, I dashed down to the end of “Platform 1″ to the hidden (by the long building) “Platform 1A”. Ok, it’s not leaving quite yet.
As I was about to hop on, I heard a border officer say– “Passport”. I knew this was a border officer because he was with other border officers and they all had guns. I also knew that they were talking to me because I was absolutely the only tourist in that station. Crap, it was time for the train to leave and I was stalled here. But luck would have it that the conductor saw my pantomimed performance of, “I need this train, here’s my ticket” act and held up the train.
Whew, I got on board the train with a new stamp in my passport– I will have that thing filled with stamps just yet. Next stop… Katowice Ligota. At that point, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I were heading the wrong direction out of Poland. Either way, I had to suffer through the heat of the open-aired train with only a small hope of arriving in Krakow that day. The conductor of Train C came and asked for my ticket, which I happily produced.
“Oh no. No. No. Problem.”
Crap.
He pulled out a large rail map of Poland and confirmed my fear– if fear can materialize from pantomimes– that I was indeed going the wrong way. Well, it was sort of wrong. I would still get to Krakow (and late), but I was taking the wrong route. And that the route the conductor of Train B gave me was wrong. Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit. I normally don’t curse when I write posts, but shit shit shit was exactly what I was thinking. On top of that, my ticket was only good with the company that operated Train A. This train route was operated by a wholly different company– shit.
However, this conductor turned out to be more competent than the other. He gave me a new ticket and instructions (with backup trains) to get to Krakow. It turns out that I would arrive in Krakow only two hours later than originally planned, with only one other stop at Katowice– Ka-toe-viitz, I know how to pronounce this name because my hosts in Krakow made me repeat it until I got it right.
One may be confused at this point, but I would like to note that Katowice is not Katowice Ligota. This little tidbit had only increased my confusion during the trip.
But I was feeling upbeat that I would make it just fine. I even had a conversation with another passenger who was heading the same direction. With his help, I got onto the final Train C bound for Krakow. It turned out to be a very good thing to have had made niceties with a Polish local. It turned out that the ticket I got on Train B was only good up to Katowice. This third conductor said that I needed a new ticket. And more so, he was going to fine me the penalty! But damn, my new friend argued for me and I only needed to pay the 5 euro for the ticket, instead of the 25 the conductor was trying to shake from me. It was indeed a shakedown as I was told.
I finally made it to Krakow Glowny station:
Safe, got a host and place… I was ready to see Krakow.
Prague, or is it called Praha?
1 Comment [Writing this post in Budapest. I finally have a chance.]
I got into this Czech town in the late afternoon of a very dark day (25th June 2006). The weather did not know whether it wanted to rain or just be really cloudy. So it alternated between both. The lighting accentuated the color & contrast between the homeless junkies & the street, which gave me a great shocking feeling one might feel from seeing works by a master modern artist. This was not a good first impressions for someone who has been given high expectations of the city’s beauty. I don’t really want to sound like this was an East European stereotyped joke, but it made me wonder what I had gotten myself into.
However, the next day was pure warmth and sunshine. I definitely got much more of a tan walking around the town. In fact, after a while I got plain old soaked with sweat. Luckily I just bought a 1.5 Liter CamelBak hydration pack to tuck away in my messenger bag. I’ve learned that drinking water while touring the city is just necessary for survival. [I drink it regularly just so my messenger bag won't be so heavy. I think I'm developing back problems here.]
I passed over the Charles Bridge where many merchants were hocking their tourist wares. There actually was an interesting booth (not pictured) of a son selling his old father’s art… vivid expressionist works painted on sheet metal, which had a glossy glow in direct sunlight yet has a cool contrast of colors in the shade. I was tempted to buy one piece I liked, but I really didn’t want to carry it around with me for another 2 months. Contrary to the belief that there are nothing but vendors on this bridge, there are in fact some sites to see on this bridge– the statues being the main attraction although half of them are actually replicas. Pictured here is the statue of St. John Nepomuk. The story goes that St John was a priest that refused to break the sacrament of confession (if I recall), yada yada yada, death ensued and he was dropped off the bridge. Five stars appeared when he hit, so they built a statue on the bridge for him… and thus the reason for the five stars on his head. Now us tourist walk up and rub the plaque clean and make a wish… I wish that I didn’t look so foolish in my picture.
Another historical story about the bridge. Convicts used to be marched from the castle to the town square for a nice hanging… and they would always stop at this statue of Christ on the crucifix to pray… ok, it’s not much of a story. But you get to see the construction underway on this end of the bridge.
So I crossed the bridge and hit the castle on the hill, what a climb. Here’s a picture of the St. Vitus Cathedral in the castle grounds. I climbed up to the top of its bell tower, but I don’t think I got any pictures while up there (video I did take). I walked about the castle grounds, but opted out touring the palaces. I had started to go over budget with the travels and hostels. I wanted to conserve a bit.
And back to the Charles Bridge who likes to hide other bits of stories. The tiny island under this bridge (between the main Prague districts and the castle district) hides the Lennon Wall. No, not the socialist, the hippie artist. After John Lennon was murdered, graffiti of Lennon’s song lyrics appeared overnight on this wall. This was during the time of old Soviet rule and it was a marvelous act of rebellion. Whenever it was painted over, graffiti was sure to come back. The Soviet rules are gone, but the graffiti lives on. This wall is still the only place in Prague where graffiti is legal. Some in the know tourists come by and scribble their own private messages. I wonder how many layers of ink are on this wall.
And finally, back down and more walking around the city. Honestly, there’s a lot of city to walk here. I hung about the old town square quite a bit probably because it was somewhat central (and closer to my hostel).
I even spent some time in a dungeon of a bar watching a snore of a World Cup game. Maybe I was just too tired from walking. Or maybe I was just too full from eating some local cuisine (Roasted pig, pickled vegetables, some sort of potato dish, and spinach).
The next day I walked about areas that I missed. It included a lot of the Nove Mesto area (all boring quiet Med and University campuses), the Wenceslas Square area, and a trip through the Jewish Quarter… If one looks on the map, one notices that I walked across town… it’s quite a walk, Prague is bigger than I thought (yet still very doable).
The one big goal of the day was to find Kafka’s grave… a bit morbid, but that idea got put in my head by another traveller from Ohio. I ended up in the Old Jewish Cemetery in the quarter. I ended up going to other synagogues in the area because it was bundled in with the ticket, and not really worth the effort in my opinion. The same goes with most of the cathedrals in Europe… Oh my gosh, I haven’t been to church so much since I was a kid. The cemetery has some interesting history, and the feel to it is just spooky (something out of a fantasy novel); the jagged array of tombstones make for interesting viewing. One will also pass by the grave of Rabbi Judah Loew the Maharal, who is featured in classic golem myth of Prague.
Those were the highlights that I have pictures of. However, I would like to say that Prague is a very complicated feeling city. I experienced a lot more than the pictures show. The weather went from rain to sun to rain to sun; the city life felt very modern to very old; it was clean & safe and it was also dirty and dangerous; it was quiet and loud under a roar of tourists; it was cheap and it was expensive. The city has a split-personality disorder– every time I think I have it figured out, the city changes on me. — and it made me want to stay longer.
Status: In Vienna
No Comments Hi everyone, this is just a quick status update; nice long descriptive posts about my travels will be delayed a bit more because of the CouchSurfing.com site crash and it has caused me some inconvenience.
I made it to Vienna and am staying with a Couch Surfer who is very active in pulling people together. I arrived to catch part of the all day strategy meeting to figure out how to help the community recover. We are finding that the CS core team in Montreal are actually doing something, even if it isn’t visible to us on the outside; I understand a more detailed announcement about their recovery plans are expected to posted soon (as I write this).
So anyways, I’m going to be touring Vienna a bit and also helping where I can in regards to CouchSurfing. See you all soon.
Walking All Day in Berlin
1 Comment [Pictures uploaded earlier, but I haven't a chance to write until now (in Krakow). (Delay in Time) As I finish writing this, I am leaving Krakaw for Vienna.]
I took an all day walking tour with Brewer’s Berlin Tours. I have to say, off the bat, that it is the best walking tour I’ve ever been on. The guides (two that I’ve met) were really funny and full of insightful history about the city. This tour is more than just a walk from A-B-C through the city, the guide tailored the tour for the people in our group… we walked A-Z in an order that worked for us.
Our tour started off in front of the New Synagogue in Berlin. The Synagogue isn’t really new, but it is newer than the Old Synagogue. It is fascinating that this synagogue survived the Night of Broken Glass. As a mob of Nazi thugs crowded the street, an old 65 year old police officer stood in front of the door and would not let them pass. This old officer stared down the fanatics and told them to all go home… and they did! This is the height of Nazi bully-ism in Germany as they were taking power and not many would stand up against them.
And during the war, buildings were bombed flat… Some survived, and many that survived were slated for demolition… One was the following building, which was taken over by squatters after some time… Needless to say that the building was never demolished and has been turned into a hip hangout place:
Then we had a story of the number 6.
After that we ended up at the “Palace of Tears”. The nickname was of the trainstation, located in East Berlin, where friends and family shed countless tears as visiting members from West Berlin were about to leave. This was during a time when those from the West could have a twentyfour hour visa to visit the East. And once that was up, they had to leave… and they all queued up in front of the station trying to spend their last moments together. Once the visitor entered the station, they were subject to hidden cameras and about 20 minutes of border guards verifying the person against his passport. So here we are, victorious– with a backdrop of a relocated piece of the wall:
And here I am next to the best preserved building from World War 2 in East Berlin. The pock marks in the side of the building are actual bullet holes and bomb damage.
We then took a stop in front of the palace, which was once a plain concrete square. This is where many infamous Nazi rallies were held. It is now a bit more beautiful with the lawns of grass.
We walked to a “Monument of Sorrow”. It’s quite a sad story… half the artist’s family died in the First World War, the other half died in the Second World War. This statue is of a mother cradling her dead child… in symbolic overtures to the pain caused by war.
We stopped for lunch in The square with dueling churches and a concert hall. One protestant, one catholic.
A quick stop to the largest chocolate store in europe…. not too impressed, the candy was better in Bruges.
This is the point where we walked to Checkpoint Charlie. I’ve written enough about it so I will skip any description here.
Walked by the Topography of Terror, the old remains of the SS/Gestapo headquarters. I went back a little later to take a free audio guide tour– they just kept your ID as insurance/deposit– for a couple of hours. They packed a lot of info into how the SS and Gestapo worked. The ruins unearthed are tiny jail cells used to house prisoners while they were being interrogated in the headquarters. The site originally was to be renovated, but was indefinately left as an exhibit after it the ruins were found during the initial digs.
After that, we stopped by the infamous last bunker where “certain high ranking Nazi people” committed suicide. There is a Catch-22 about what to do with the place… The government would be criticized for turning it into a museum, they would be criticized for just about doing any there… Instead, they just left it as a carpark. The funny thing is that that small grass lawn (pictured) used to be the rose garden that sat directly above the bunker and is now where owners let their dogs poop. There was quite a bit of dog doody on the lawn.
And to top off with more controversy in Berlin, the new Jewish memorial sits smack dab in the middle of Berlin. Ignoring the the meaning of the memorial, I thought the structure was quite fascinating. The stone columns just sat there, and one would walk down amongst them… leaving one to feel both alone, yet amongst others.
Then off walking around to Brandonburg Gate… I am not going to say much because the entire place was just filled with tourists doing the World Cup party thing… Although, there are ironies found in the square. Such as how the French Embassy is located in a square named after a Prussian victory over the French in some war.
The german parlaiment… Very nice. Glad I went. Time is running out and I want to finally publish this post. The view is so so, but I thought it was a good structure to just visit.
Ok. That was it for a walking trip of Berlin. Next up was Prague, which I will get to soon.
The 6 Graffiti
2 Comments When one walks around parts of Berlin one may find the number 6 sprayed onto some piece of old wall. Our guide had wondered why she kept on seeing this graffiti around Berlin, and not some other piece of graffiti. Then she actually met the graffiti artist. She asked why he kept on spraying 6 all over the place– what meaning does the number 6 have, why not 5 or 7?
His answer, in mixed English-German: “I’m spreading six all over Berlin.”
Think about how six is pronounced in German…
As is how this story goes.