Train station platforms are considerably lower in Italy, trains are reliably late. As you are patiently waiting, absorbing your surroundings in the penetrating warmth of the mediterranean sun, do not be fooled. Your brain has not been fried to the point of distortion, your eyes are not deceiving you in some sort of twisted mirage. That is most definitely not a log on the train line, nor a disgarded Mars bar. That my friend is a train line truffle of the highest order- an undeniably steaming, stinking TURD OF MAN!
Let this serve as a lesson to you...NEVER EVER EVER FLUSH THE TOILET WHEN THE TRAIN IS PULLED INTO A STATION (it may be big, depending on the length of journey, but it is most certainly not clever).
Sunday 17 August 2008
Thursday 14 August 2008
Sights, songs and sparkles...
A three hour train journey from Budapest to Vienna and so continues our great European education...the silver haired vixen in the seat opposite has ensured that never again will we view banana consumption as a nutritional requirement, but as more of a performance- enough said.
As we leave the train station attempting to decipher a public transportation system worthy of a chapter in the Da Vinci code we are joined by a local man who has made his career pickling himself in the local park. Charlotte, unable to resist the opportunity to enrich a simple mind takes the time to teach him a few choice phrases from the Yorkshire dialect which translate to the masses as "would you kindly go away please".
Our hostel is better ordered than Sandhurst and clean, clinically clean. On meeting the owner- a minute Chinese lady whose razor sharp tongue would have ensured her prime candidacy for running the Austro-Hungarian empire single handedly (providing of course that she was not asked to do so in her sacred break time), we quickly cotton on to the fact that in the Blue Corridor Hostel YOU DO AS YOU ARE TOLD JA?!!
We do as we are told-spend a day taking in the beautiful sights of Vienna and steer well clear of McDonalds in favour of more local Weiner cuisine (well actually pasta, the scnitzel looked a million kinds of wrong- Italy is still more local than the USA anyway). We have yet to see the beautiful blue Danube after seeking it out in two countries... here it still resembles something more akin to a third world waterhole after a dysentry outbreak.
Then off to Salzburg, the land of Mozart, more importantly Maria and grown men and women dressed in clothing worthy of the Disneyworld workforce. A small fortune later we are happily camping it up on "The Most Unique Sound of Music Tour Bus". The tour guide certainly accounts for the "Most Unique" component- leather shorts, knee high socks and Iraqui terrorist glasses complete with Anglo/American/German accent make for a place on the borderline between hilarious and terryfying. Lots of group singing, yodelling and posing a la Julie Andrews all the way through the Alps, and we are unashamedly in pink paradise. Salzburg in a word was... well surreal. A halfway house between the stage and the asylum- perhaps that's why we fitted in so nicely.
Last stop Innsbruck for amazing sunshine, MAHOUSSIVE mountains and a visit to the spangdoodletastic Swarovski crystal factory. Seriously, they should hand out Ritalin on the door as this place is enough to turn a devout Tibetan monk into Rumplestiltskin (albeit a follically challenged version). After an afternoon of flitting around the treasure trove caves like demented magpies we are exhausted- definitely time to slow down to a more Mediterranean pace of life...
As we leave the train station attempting to decipher a public transportation system worthy of a chapter in the Da Vinci code we are joined by a local man who has made his career pickling himself in the local park. Charlotte, unable to resist the opportunity to enrich a simple mind takes the time to teach him a few choice phrases from the Yorkshire dialect which translate to the masses as "would you kindly go away please".
Our hostel is better ordered than Sandhurst and clean, clinically clean. On meeting the owner- a minute Chinese lady whose razor sharp tongue would have ensured her prime candidacy for running the Austro-Hungarian empire single handedly (providing of course that she was not asked to do so in her sacred break time), we quickly cotton on to the fact that in the Blue Corridor Hostel YOU DO AS YOU ARE TOLD JA?!!
We do as we are told-spend a day taking in the beautiful sights of Vienna and steer well clear of McDonalds in favour of more local Weiner cuisine (well actually pasta, the scnitzel looked a million kinds of wrong- Italy is still more local than the USA anyway). We have yet to see the beautiful blue Danube after seeking it out in two countries... here it still resembles something more akin to a third world waterhole after a dysentry outbreak.
Then off to Salzburg, the land of Mozart, more importantly Maria and grown men and women dressed in clothing worthy of the Disneyworld workforce. A small fortune later we are happily camping it up on "The Most Unique Sound of Music Tour Bus". The tour guide certainly accounts for the "Most Unique" component- leather shorts, knee high socks and Iraqui terrorist glasses complete with Anglo/American/German accent make for a place on the borderline between hilarious and terryfying. Lots of group singing, yodelling and posing a la Julie Andrews all the way through the Alps, and we are unashamedly in pink paradise. Salzburg in a word was... well surreal. A halfway house between the stage and the asylum- perhaps that's why we fitted in so nicely.
Last stop Innsbruck for amazing sunshine, MAHOUSSIVE mountains and a visit to the spangdoodletastic Swarovski crystal factory. Seriously, they should hand out Ritalin on the door as this place is enough to turn a devout Tibetan monk into Rumplestiltskin (albeit a follically challenged version). After an afternoon of flitting around the treasure trove caves like demented magpies we are exhausted- definitely time to slow down to a more Mediterranean pace of life...
Tuesday 5 August 2008
Ode to Budapest...
NB/ If easily offended do not read!!
Twelve hours on the night train,
just starting to snore
Some Hungarian bird,
bursts in through the door;
"Have you got any questions,
for Budapest to make?"
"Erm, yeah actually love,
why the hell am I awake?!?"
Eight in the morning,
we trudge to our dwellings
Nursing our heads,
and our various swellings
Living twelve years,
in Mike Tyson's marriage
Or was it twelve hours,
in a second class carriage?
Culture oozing
out of every last pore
Our tiny Brit minds
can't take any more!
Fountains of knowledge,
dried up, need to rest
Thank Atilla the Hun
for Budapest!
Off to the spa,
for some spiritual healing
Beer guts sweating,
from the floor to the ceiling
Bananas in pyjamas,
or lycra, being literal
Too close for comfort,
to man...and his schnitzel.
R and R sorted,
we head to a club
Local cattlemarket,
and breakdancing hub
Drinks are aflowing,
along with Magyar affection
More rats here
than a Piper picks up on bin collection
Formula 1 is in town,
what better sport for the lazy?
Than one that is viewed
drinking beer, picking daisies
Suddenly I remember
I have no gift for my sis
Then I spy a young driver
that noone will miss...
Hot Formula 1 property
stashed deep in my pack
"We have to leave Hungary,
I don't want to give him back!"
Poor Lewis is looking
all lost and forlorn
"Chin up lad, In Austria
being held hostage is the norm" :-/
Twelve hours on the night train,
just starting to snore
Some Hungarian bird,
bursts in through the door;
"Have you got any questions,
for Budapest to make?"
"Erm, yeah actually love,
why the hell am I awake?!?"
Eight in the morning,
we trudge to our dwellings
Nursing our heads,
and our various swellings
Living twelve years,
in Mike Tyson's marriage
Or was it twelve hours,
in a second class carriage?
Culture oozing
out of every last pore
Our tiny Brit minds
can't take any more!
Fountains of knowledge,
dried up, need to rest
Thank Atilla the Hun
for Budapest!
Off to the spa,
for some spiritual healing
Beer guts sweating,
from the floor to the ceiling
Bananas in pyjamas,
or lycra, being literal
Too close for comfort,
to man...and his schnitzel.
R and R sorted,
we head to a club
Local cattlemarket,
and breakdancing hub
Drinks are aflowing,
along with Magyar affection
More rats here
than a Piper picks up on bin collection
Formula 1 is in town,
what better sport for the lazy?
Than one that is viewed
drinking beer, picking daisies
Suddenly I remember
I have no gift for my sis
Then I spy a young driver
that noone will miss...
Hot Formula 1 property
stashed deep in my pack
"We have to leave Hungary,
I don't want to give him back!"
Poor Lewis is looking
all lost and forlorn
"Chin up lad, In Austria
being held hostage is the norm" :-/
Wednesday 30 July 2008
Tramping it up...
In the words of The Cranberries; "Everybody Else is Doing it So Why Can't We?"
I am officially unemployed, Charlotte is doing a stirling job of disguising her teacher status (read in to this what you will), and lastnight we were officially homeless...time to make like a hobo, Euro-stylee!
Two tramps, namely the disheveled and beer scented Lionya Bench, and her companion, the moth eaten, nesty headed Robyn Binz, contemplate the street of Prague at 11am, lives slung over their shoulders. Lastnight's busking attempts proved unprofitable- the Czechs were non-too appreciative of the brilliance of the Take That medley (they will never integrate fully into European culture at this rate).
A few Krona rattling around in their grubby pockets they seek out cheap eats. The street cleaners have just done their daily rounds so bin rooting is a little slow today. A sports bar with images of gentitalia identifying the relevant toilet will do nicely. Better wrap up half of the grub for later- never know when the next tourist waste treasure will pop up. The sun is beating down and not wanting to offend their only friend further with their respective body odours, the girls opt for an afternoon of bench snoozing in the park. A thoughtful dog owner sends his canine sidekick over to relieve himself near their feet- they were filthy after all... sweaty having endured the midday sun, Lionya and Robyn swap ideas for how to freshen up for the evening. Lionya suggests washing in the fountain on Wenceslas Square. Robyn points out that this may be somewhat undignified given the tourist crowds.
"Yes, you're right, we don't want noone thinkin weez some sort o' scrubulikers",
Then...an epiphany...
"The Czechs pour beers with foamy heads bigger than the Jackson Fives', lets get a beer and have a wash in that!",
"Faaabulous idea Lionya, we will smell great- all the top perfume houses use alcohol in their scents- and then we can drink the remains woop woop!".
So off they go.
Well oiled and refreshed they head off to the train station for some late night action. Things were disappointingly slow for a Tuesday.
"I know, why don't we jump the overnight train to Budapest, it's well dead and this place smells funny anyway..."
I am officially unemployed, Charlotte is doing a stirling job of disguising her teacher status (read in to this what you will), and lastnight we were officially homeless...time to make like a hobo, Euro-stylee!
Two tramps, namely the disheveled and beer scented Lionya Bench, and her companion, the moth eaten, nesty headed Robyn Binz, contemplate the street of Prague at 11am, lives slung over their shoulders. Lastnight's busking attempts proved unprofitable- the Czechs were non-too appreciative of the brilliance of the Take That medley (they will never integrate fully into European culture at this rate).
A few Krona rattling around in their grubby pockets they seek out cheap eats. The street cleaners have just done their daily rounds so bin rooting is a little slow today. A sports bar with images of gentitalia identifying the relevant toilet will do nicely. Better wrap up half of the grub for later- never know when the next tourist waste treasure will pop up. The sun is beating down and not wanting to offend their only friend further with their respective body odours, the girls opt for an afternoon of bench snoozing in the park. A thoughtful dog owner sends his canine sidekick over to relieve himself near their feet- they were filthy after all... sweaty having endured the midday sun, Lionya and Robyn swap ideas for how to freshen up for the evening. Lionya suggests washing in the fountain on Wenceslas Square. Robyn points out that this may be somewhat undignified given the tourist crowds.
"Yes, you're right, we don't want noone thinkin weez some sort o' scrubulikers",
Then...an epiphany...
"The Czechs pour beers with foamy heads bigger than the Jackson Fives', lets get a beer and have a wash in that!",
"Faaabulous idea Lionya, we will smell great- all the top perfume houses use alcohol in their scents- and then we can drink the remains woop woop!".
So off they go.
Well oiled and refreshed they head off to the train station for some late night action. Things were disappointingly slow for a Tuesday.
"I know, why don't we jump the overnight train to Budapest, it's well dead and this place smells funny anyway..."
Sunday 27 July 2008
Dos and don'ts of Poland...
Do:
- always always always save a zloty (2 to be extra cautious) for the train station toilets (instead of spending up at the bar the night before)
- take a raincoat and shelve any ideas that you are in for any sort of summer holiday tomfoolery
- enjoy the Zubrowska vodka with apple juice...responsibly ;-)
- engage in conversation with a weasel or 2, they teach you tolerance and patience (essential skills in the world of Interail)
- befriend 1 or more stag parties who offer to buy you rounds of tequila (you may as well cooperate as you don't generally get a choice)
- sample a range of Irish bars (you can take the Brit out of Britain but you can't take Britain out of the Brit)
- dance the funky chicken whilst surrounded by uber-trendy, muscle bound, village people trainee worthy Polish yoof and let them think this is the latest craze sweeping Western Europe (then go back in 10 years to reap the rewards of your teachings)
- book yourself into a hostel worthy of an Alfred Hitchcock set (see in particular The Shining)
Don't:
- bathe in fountains where the local tramp lady has her daily shave
- frequent internet cafes where they issue paedophile ring membership cards
- OD on dumplings, noone will thank you for the resulting bowel issues
- fall for the charms of the tramp who trys to sell you a 1 zloty coin for 10 zloty
- take up offers from men who claim they just want to be your draft excluder for the evening
- spend hours perfecting your Polish pronunciation, nobody (especially the Poles) gives a flying blini. Blank looks all round!!
Happy backpacking, see you in Praha (Prague for those of you not savvy with the local lingo)
Dobry den,
Chazza's Tours (anyone interested in taking said tour should book directly with their local Polskie Sklep)
- always always always save a zloty (2 to be extra cautious) for the train station toilets (instead of spending up at the bar the night before)
- take a raincoat and shelve any ideas that you are in for any sort of summer holiday tomfoolery
- enjoy the Zubrowska vodka with apple juice...responsibly ;-)
- engage in conversation with a weasel or 2, they teach you tolerance and patience (essential skills in the world of Interail)
- befriend 1 or more stag parties who offer to buy you rounds of tequila (you may as well cooperate as you don't generally get a choice)
- sample a range of Irish bars (you can take the Brit out of Britain but you can't take Britain out of the Brit)
- dance the funky chicken whilst surrounded by uber-trendy, muscle bound, village people trainee worthy Polish yoof and let them think this is the latest craze sweeping Western Europe (then go back in 10 years to reap the rewards of your teachings)
- book yourself into a hostel worthy of an Alfred Hitchcock set (see in particular The Shining)
Don't:
- bathe in fountains where the local tramp lady has her daily shave
- frequent internet cafes where they issue paedophile ring membership cards
- OD on dumplings, noone will thank you for the resulting bowel issues
- fall for the charms of the tramp who trys to sell you a 1 zloty coin for 10 zloty
- take up offers from men who claim they just want to be your draft excluder for the evening
- spend hours perfecting your Polish pronunciation, nobody (especially the Poles) gives a flying blini. Blank looks all round!!
Happy backpacking, see you in Praha (Prague for those of you not savvy with the local lingo)
Dobry den,
Chazza's Tours (anyone interested in taking said tour should book directly with their local Polskie Sklep)
Friday 25 July 2008
Interail for the challenged...
Interail is a straightforward concept-right? Buy pass, get on train, job done...
First day on the road/rails and the two silly English girls have naffed it up already by deciding to get on a train without looking at the start date on the pass, which happens to be tomorrow(worthy of note here that the start date was entirely our own decision). Thus we begin our effortless, ticketless trip at the ticket office at cross-purposes with an apparently hearing impaired Polish ticket lady, intent on sending us to Bratislava rather than the comparatively nearby Wroclaw (VROTS-wav?!), where we actually wanted to go. Can I just point out that my Polish pronunciation was near perfect, so obviously this misunderstanding was down to her hearing problems and not my Yorko-Polish accent. Tickets purchased we head off to the comfort of our new home for the next four and a half hours- a luxurious spot (sit anywhere ya like) on top of our rucksacks next to the toilet.
Lesson learnt- reserve seats. The trains here are busier than the Polish translation department at Job Centre Plus...
FACT Interail is a challenge...or is that just us?? :-/
First day on the road/rails and the two silly English girls have naffed it up already by deciding to get on a train without looking at the start date on the pass, which happens to be tomorrow(worthy of note here that the start date was entirely our own decision). Thus we begin our effortless, ticketless trip at the ticket office at cross-purposes with an apparently hearing impaired Polish ticket lady, intent on sending us to Bratislava rather than the comparatively nearby Wroclaw (VROTS-wav?!), where we actually wanted to go. Can I just point out that my Polish pronunciation was near perfect, so obviously this misunderstanding was down to her hearing problems and not my Yorko-Polish accent. Tickets purchased we head off to the comfort of our new home for the next four and a half hours- a luxurious spot (sit anywhere ya like) on top of our rucksacks next to the toilet.
Lesson learnt- reserve seats. The trains here are busier than the Polish translation department at Job Centre Plus...
FACT Interail is a challenge...or is that just us?? :-/
Wednesday 23 July 2008
Krakow...moist and cultured
Arrived in Poland to find that Marie Curie, Pope John Paul II and Chopin all bezzed here for a bit apparently so we are in the good company we are so well accustomed to! We are well settled in to the palace that is the Jump Inn hostel, which incidently is not what we will be doing on the beds as they are so damned creaky...otherwise a very nice establishment. Already developing a taste for Zebrowska vodka (which comes with a free blade of grass what a bargain!)- think this could prove dangerous as we have 100 steps to climb every time we want to go back to our room. Saw some flying things that looked like bats and got rather concerned that they were vampire bats on their way to Trannsylvania, that was until we remembered that they only go for virgins so I think we might be safe on that note!!
Today we kicked off the tour of the Irish bars of Europe (we are British after all), befriended Jim the Kosovan kebab man, visited the Jewish quarter (survey of big Jewish noses began) and a few synagogues to boot, looked around some impressive churches. Have visited so many religious buildings we could actually be in line to be the next Pope (obviously disregarding the vampire issue, being female and come to think of it the visiting of Jewish institutions)... never mind I don't really think that was top of either of our career aspirations lists anyway.
So far all is good, we are learning Polish manners and becoming all round refined and cultured ladies...for the moment anyway, the vodka is coming out shortly (what-it's a major part of Polish national culture!!!). Hopefully the sunshine will do the same :-)
Auschwitz tomorrow...
Today we kicked off the tour of the Irish bars of Europe (we are British after all), befriended Jim the Kosovan kebab man, visited the Jewish quarter (survey of big Jewish noses began) and a few synagogues to boot, looked around some impressive churches. Have visited so many religious buildings we could actually be in line to be the next Pope (obviously disregarding the vampire issue, being female and come to think of it the visiting of Jewish institutions)... never mind I don't really think that was top of either of our career aspirations lists anyway.
So far all is good, we are learning Polish manners and becoming all round refined and cultured ladies...for the moment anyway, the vodka is coming out shortly (what-it's a major part of Polish national culture!!!). Hopefully the sunshine will do the same :-)
Auschwitz tomorrow...
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