Stories and Silliness from the Snow - Lost!

I do not have good sense of direction at the best of times. Put me in a region where all of the signs are in German, in cities I have never seen before where the traffic is all on the wrong side of the road and I am hopeless. Agreed if the language on the signs is the same as the language on the map then it should not matter. It does.

I spent weeks going the opposite direction than intended. Every time.

In Vienna I visited Zentral Friedhof (Central Cemetery). It has a lot of Jewish graves and a lot of graves in general. It is a dauntingly large cemetery. Big enough that graves are themed, by religion, profession, birthplace. It is big enough to warrant three tram stops all on the same route to cover the distance between the different sections.

On the same day having visited the cemetery I planned to have lunch at Schilzelwirt Schmidt, home of the worlds best schnitzel, before visiting Mozarthaus.

Due to my poor sense of direction on this particular day I also had unscheduled viewings of
• St Stephen’s Cathedral
• Imperial Palace
• Spanish Riding School (twice)
• Museum of Fine Arts
• Folks Garden
• Austrian and European Union government offices

Having accidentally seen these places whilst in transit did not do anything to increase my ability to find them again when it came time to tour these places of interest.

For the record

Schilzelwirt Schmidt: truly delectable schnitzels. Mammoth portions, my meal included three full sized schnitzels, 7 full potatoes, layers of ham and cheese and enough cheese sauce to drown a small child. My heart and stomach hated it but my taste buds were in Bavarian heaven. Yes that was all one serve. This meal also commenced my stomachs preparation for the portion sizes of America, which were yet to come.

Mozarthaus: this building was definitely owned by and lived in by Mozart and his family for two and a half years. After this fact the rest of the museum and tour is based on conjecture, rumour and hearsay. The “facts” presented in Mozarthaus is based on out-of-context quotes from letters and journals. Any furnishings in the house were replicas, merely representing the furniture of the era. Not even the furniture Mozart actually owned but merely representative of the type of furniture he might have owned. The museum could not even say with certainty which room was which. “This room is likely to have been used as a bedroom.” In reality this museum is simply an inner city apartment with Mozart’s name on the sign hanging on the front door and a CD of his music playing in what may have been the room he wrote his music. This experience cost Euro4.50. I tried paying with replica money, representative on the money a tourist might actually use.

Europe - people are dying to get in

Living in backpackers is a great way to meet interesting people. Interesting because of their countries of origins, interesting because of their holiday plans – past, present and future, interesting because of their smell (more about this in later blogs) and interesting because of their jobs – past present and future.

Staying at Hotel Hütteldorf in Vienna Austria I shared with an Austrian male who was currently unemployed and homeless – and yes unfortunately the later is as a result of the former condition.
He was travelling throughout Europe searching for gainful employment in his field of speciality.

Cemetery design. In his words “he brings energy to the holes”. Ignoring the obvious and disturbing connections to German defecation porn or the more disturbing possibility of necrophilia I think it means he designed crypts and mausoleums.

I was surprised he was unemployed as despite all of the advances in medical science and downturns in economies people continue to die. In Europe where there are so many people squashed into every decreasing amount of spaces I would have thought the need for effective and space efficient disposal of corpses would be at a premium.

Apparently the global financial crisis means that although the people are still dying leaving their relatives in need for appropriate holes, they can no longer afford holes that are energetic.

Stories and Silliness from the Snow - Time To Go

My holiday almost started with a bang, literally. At Southern Cross Station to board the airport shuttle for my 11.30pm flight a 77 year old American was threatening to shoot out the tyres of the bus.

He had arrived just as the previous bus was pulling out and obviously could not wait the ten minutes till the next one and having seen episodes of Airline thought it imperative that he make a scene.

What was more surprising than his outburst was his surprise that the staff at a major transport hub serving Australia’s second biggest international airport would become quite anxious and aggressive toward a passenger threatening to shoot live ammunition. He could not believe they would even consider calling the police and banning him from travelling on the next bus.

If anyone should know about how over-the-top airport security can get it should be an American.

They did not ban him and I had the dubious honour of sitting next to him to the airport where he retold his story, proudly though still dumbfounded at the staff reaction. Thankfully our shared journey would end at Melbourne airport as he was on route to Hobart, Tasmania. Not that he had purchased a ticket. This late at night his chances of there being a flight to Hobart was slim at best, let alone there still being tickets available. I can only wonder what his reaction would have been if ticketing staff told him he had to wait until the next flight which would be not in 10 minutes time but the following morning.

I enjoy flying. As a former insomniac I have used long-haul flights to catch up on new and recently released movies. However I am over the worst of this debilitating condition, which meant I got to see the first 20-30 minutes of the new and recently released movies. Or maybe I am just getting old. Dad has only ever seen the first 20-30 minutes of every movie he has seen for more than 30 years. My Dad has never struggled from lack of sleep. He can dose off standing up or mid conversation – when he is the one talking!

When an aeroplane serves cereal, juice and fresh cubed fruit for breakfast why do they give you salt, pepper, knife and fork.

Arriving in Hong Kong I was confronted by numerous Honk Kongians/Hong Kongansese/Honk Kongisians/Hong Kongish with face-masks that have been shown to not only not reduce the risk of infection but actually increase the chance of infection as they create a warm moist environment for viruses to breed close to the nose and mouth. I was also confronted by urinals that either prove the rumours are false – Asian men are in reality very well endowed – or that the rumours are true – Asians are short.

The urinals were so low to the ground I had to check I had actually walked into the adult amenities. As it turns out the urinals were the perfect height for me, and I am 182cm tall!

Two more things about the Hong Kong Airport. The warnings about keeping bags in view are authorised by the Hong Kong Police Crime Prevention Authority. This only raises concerns about how serious police corruption in this country is if they have had to create an authority of police crime.

The other thing was I wanted to buy a fridge magnet just to prove I had been in the country. Such tacky items are not available from the international airport though. There was no room for a souvenir stand in amongst Versace, Armani, Hugo Boss and Prada. Ironic really that a province of China – home of the tacky souvenirs sold in every other country – does not have souvenirs of its own.

Boarding my flight to Finland I was concerned about the three children under the age of 5 sitting in the row in front of me and two others in the row behind me. I need not have worried though. The drunk guy who fought loudly with his girlfriend throughout the entire 10hour flight, broken only by him calling out to his equally drunk mates eight rows back made the perfect distraction from the gurgling and chatter of the children..

Helsinki airport offers overpriced souvenirs and regular height urinals to its travellers.

Thirtyfour hours, three flights, 4 lunches, 2 dinners, 1 breakfast, 2 buses, 1 train 3km of walking, a gun wielding American 3 kids and a drunken domestic later I arrived in my first destination