15.

Though the city of Berlin was fascinating, our hosts made the visit truly worth while. Jonas and Sarah were wonderful friends, and hopefully I will see them again. Our last night, Jonas took us all to this old fashioned bar full of drunk tenors and a man who was angry at us Americans for what we did to his “good friend” Roman Polanski (“Fuck I mean, do you ever ask their age?) We ordered the obligatory platter of Wurst, Kraut, und Bratkartoffel, had a few beers, made plans to stay with Sarah’s family in Budapest, and then walked to the bus station. The bus departed at midnight, and arrived in Prague at 5:30. We dropped off our bags at the hostel, and went to breakfast in a beautiful wood paneled restaurant overlooking the Vltava.

Prague is best described as pretty. We mostly walked, and climbed the surrounding hills. It is not a city that feels particularly lived in, though we were only there two nights and thus mostly stayed near the city center. Very much to look at, not so much to interact with.

They have a fine museum of the decorative arts which has a beautiful collections of clocks, fabrics, posters, liturgical vestments, and a playful temporary exhibit on dadaist design.

14. traveling 2 of

In Berlin we stayed with the housemates of my friend’s former co-worker, whom I had met once. Two of the four tenants were in Barcelona for some climate activism, and the third was mysteriously absent, so the house was pretty empty. Only Sara, the Hungarian architect, Aski, the Depressed Dog, and Jonas, the cultural anthropologist and Aski’s care-taker remained in the house once my school friends left.

Our time in Berlin was relatively subdued. The weather was shit, so we mostly went to museums. Our first night, my colleagues went to the  Berghaim, supposedly the coolest club in the world, and stayed until 7 in the morning. Cara and I just got whiskeys at a relatively low-key bar that would have been great if they hadn’t been playing crap music at high volume. Avoiding being sucked too far deep into the club scene allowed us to get up early and catch the flea market, which runs along an old stretch of the Berlin Wall. We didnt buy anything, but it was good to check out people’s old junk. I found alot of great bike parts that I wouldnt be able to carry, so that was a drag. Lots of neat cameras too.

Another highlight was the Turkish market. Mostly food, but a lot of fabric as well. Our only souvenir our entire trip was purchased here: a yard of beautiful wool fabric. Many museums: The Jewish Museum, The Hamburger Bahnhof, The East Side Gallery,and The Pergamon Museum. They were all really exciting, though I particularly liked the Hamburger. It is in an old train station (bahnhof) and has an impressive contemporary art collection. Rodeny Graham’s film piece Rheinmetall/Victoria 8 was particularly inspiring. The film shows what appears to be snow falling on an old typewriter and is beautifully shot and almost hypnotic. This horrible cell-phone video captures nothing close to the elegance the piece. But, if you watch it with your eyes closed, you can at least here the clatter of the Victoria film projector.

 

 

13. traveling part 1 of (?)

I wont even apologize for being so terrible at keeping up this blog business.

Two weeks ago, after a minimal amount of planning, Cara and I prepared to catch a bus to Berlin. We originally intended to take an overnight bus that a friend of mine, Blaine, was also taking. But when we went to book the ticket, we found that the bus had only one seat left, so we had to take a different bus, which departed at 6:30 the next morning. This is a terrible time for a bus to depart. Cara and I stayed up very late trying to figure out at least the rudimentary details of our trip, packing, but also going for a long walk. That night, the 30th, is something of a drunken holiday in Copenhagen, as it was the night that Tuborg released their annual Christmas brew. This means that the city puts on promotional hats distributed by the brewery (this year, blue wizard hats with white stars!) and begins drinking as soon as the workday ends. Around 6, the streets become a sea of stumbling, singing, vomiting danes who continue this yuletide tradition well into the night. Cara and I of course had at least participate a token amount, so after we had booked a flight from Budapest to Malmo that would end our trip, we went out to the seven eleven and got some Julebryg. This meant that we didn’t get to sleep until far too late. We dutifully set four alarms to insure that we would wake at 5:30.

Of course we did not. We woke around 6, and had needed to get on a train about 10 minutes earlier. Cussing, I checked the train schedule, and saw that there was a train departing in 4 minutes that would get us there in time. I live about a 15 minute walk from the station. Shit! But, we didnt give up: we quickly threw the remainder of our objects into our backpacks tied are shoes, and started to run. Somehow,  Cara’s cell-phone, a hand-me-down from a mobile store owner, began playing at incredible volume the most obnoxious song possible given the circumstance: “Let’s Get Retarded ,” by the Black Eyed Peas.

We could not turn it off.

Since we had so little time to get to the station, we had to both jump on my bike, wearing mind you immense backpacking packs. This horrible music was coming from the the upper compartment of Cara’s pack. As she was sitting on the top tube of my bicycle, that meant that it was about 5 inches from my ear as I pedaled us both frantically towards the train. Somehow, we made it. And the bus. Then we slept.

Gotta leave the house before it is dark out. Check back for more later.