Ok so maybe I have been sugar-coating my blog just a little. Let me give you an insight into a day in the life of...

I wake at 3am because the annoying Russian hostel roommate comes home and drunkenly stumbles home clattering into things everywhere and fumbling with the light switch. This wouldn’t be so bad if I had not got back an hour earlier and am now wide awake again. He settles in and begin snoring loudly within 10min. I insert my noise cancelling headphones in frustration and play some soothing classical music.. too soothing it won’t drown out his snoring, I throw my shoe to the floor 30cm from his head which stops the snoring for a moment. 2min later it starts up again with renewed vigour and i switch to some Debussy and eventually drift off again. The next morning i collect my stuff and head off on the train to Baden, a sleepy thermal springs town – just the place to relax and unwind from busy Basel. Thanks to the efficient rail network this works problem free. I arrive and walk out to the map of Baden, I have already booked a night in a charming little B&B near one of the sulphur springs. I stare at the map unable to reconcile it with the one in my head or to find the right street. Ok, I think, I have this one covered – whipping out my GPS and feeding in the info... no such street?? Huh. Ok, this time i whip out the laptop and look at the reservation.. yep... Ohhh hang on Baden AUSTRIA? I’m in (quick glance at the flags above me) yep Switzerland. BUGGER! Ok, phone roams well with good international rates no worries ring them up and cancel, so far so good – still in control. Whip out my next technological marvel... eReader with lonely planet Switzerland on board.. hostel reads “one of the best locations in Switzerland” Ok, lucked out.. off I go. 2km downhill i get to the hostel and it looks nice but this is spoilt by the sign that reads “Closed till 12.3.11” Grrr ok what else does this town have to offer? I head back to the centre of town, may as well look at the sights on the way... pack starting to get heavy. It Starts to Rain, not too heavy. I look around but can only find places in excess of 300 Dollars, while i could be convinced to spend 300 on a night it would have to be something MUCH better than the sort of dilapidated places I’m staring at. Next, past a castle ruins... may as well look at them – Damn there are a lot of stairs, 20kg my ass must have at least 35 kg by now. It starts to rain properly now. Funny it was supposed to snow, is that good or bad? Back to the train station, consult phone, Wifi... and it’s free. Brilliant! Page won’t display on phone. That’s ok I have the laptop. Log in check on line... nothing. Ok, maybe i will go to Zurich a day early,
Look for a place there. Everything booked, cheapest place 70 Euros with bad reviews. By this time my indomitable strength of spirit is starting to look dominable after all. The other thing wearing thin is my battery on the laptop. Ok, i will ring up the place I’m going to in Zurich... not open till 3pm. Next... Next... Next...... Ok, Switzerland is expensive and full so what if I go back to Germany I’m not that far from the boarder, and yes train tickets are cheap what about accom... Battery Critical, shutdown. Fuck! Ok I’m at the train stain.. I’ll take the first reasonable train... It goes to Zurich. Watch IT crowd on the way on my phone, in a partially sucessfull attempt to lift my mood. Store my gear in a locker at Zürich HB, ready for a long escapade. First check the hostel (the only one open in town) even though the internet said no vacancy. Turns out they have room, sweet. Do some sightseeing on the way to the train station. Grab my gear pick up some supplies.
Now I am back in the hostel, a glass of French wine (or two), a Block of Swiss cheese (Pilgerkäse) and an hour of Civilisation V. Much better than sitting around in a sticky puddle anyway. Breath, relax, winge to people on the internet. I am at Peace. Let’s see what tomorrow holds.

Decent into madness, 2

After watching a performance of Gogol’s classic “Diary of a madman” I have seen at least one precession of around 5,00 ‘Narran’ (loosely translated as Loonies) taking to the streets, dressing up, covering people in confetti straw and other mess. This i expect to see more of when i make it down to swizerland.

Meanwhile watching the cold figures huddled in jackets scuffle around the city streets, shuffle into markets, and subconsciously brush snow off the flanks of their jackets as they idly chat, ignoring the steam venting from mouth and nose like a dragon of old. Mix in a snowy fairytale landscape to complete the surreal look of this strange land.

I also discovered the works of Jonas Burger a Berlin based artist who actually did some good stuff in a modern style but with talent. Expressive fluoro colour paint bleeds from emotive and provocative figures.

I spent a week with my family in Germany which was great. Relaxing and comfortable with fun nights out or in.

Europe with speed

Rio de Jainero, Madrid, Berlin and London in a week... Starting to feel like a contiki trip. Some of the world’s greatest museums and art galleries, check; drunken nights with tourists surrounded by locals, check; crummy hostels, check; eating at places that advertise ‘authentic food’, check; photographing historic sites (e.g. castles) while hangover, check; yep I’m 19 again.


But i have re-discovered my love of Europe, despite the cold, especially the food and the drink. In Spain the tapas bars, in England the pies and ale (also haggis not bad in Scotland), and in Germany... yum! so much it needs its own post.

Getting out of London I realised how much i do like England at least the idea of England. The little pubs with men in tweed jackets (presumably returned from a fox hunt) and the yorksiremen/women who are so polite as to apologise repeatedly for looking like a ‘twat’ when they spill their own drink onto the floor “so terribly sorry!” or the students of oxford proclaiming “I’m off to play the Graand piaAnoo”. Upon spotting, or rather hearing, two Americans talking loudly outside Christ college refectory I had a strong urge to walk up to them and say “Madam! I demand you leave this commonwealth immediately, you have profaned the English language quite enough with your vulgar pronunciation. Your garrulous nature is spoiling this good, clean, British air!” But alas, i too was from the colonies and instead did the British thing and walked away with stiff upper lip, all the way to the nearest alehouse. And it does one good to see that pun’s are still alive and well in Europe, in Edinburgh I chanced across a shop named “Thistle do nicely”.

Madrid

So much i could talk about one of my favourite cities in the world (No3) Madrid, the buildings, history, nightlife, food, the great parks - Instead I will focus on just one the Sofia. . It is housed in a towering palace of art that looks like it’s back is being invaded by a spaceship al a independence day. A mind-blowing collection of some of my favourites like Dali, Picasso, Miro, Domínguez, and many other 1900 era painters that make one wonder what the temporary exhibits will hold.
And wonder i did...


Included was a display of strange boxes (in hindsight cupboard shaped) behind one was a passage.. I snuck stealthily into the pitch black room which was bare-brick and vaulted ceilings holding fans, which remained me of underground at work, unlike work after a few moments shapes emerged from the darkness and then i could see something a small white thing in the corner, I got close and realised it was a motion sensor alarm. I returned to the ante-chamber and leaned conspiratorially toward the guard and asked him whether this was art, he smiled politely and said yes. I mused “and people pay for this?” (though due to my limited Spanish I said this in) English to a once again mute guard who shrugged through understanding or not. And before i wondered back to the main galleries as I read the manifesto of MIROSŁAW BALKA’s work “Like the other elements in this charged installation the wardrobe, too, may be read in diverse ways. For the artist, it brings to mind the closet used by Anne Frank’s family to conceal the secret place in which they hid from Nazi sympathizers” to me it seems like a day at work what does that say?


Later i walked into a blank gallery with only spaces for artwork to be hung, an i nodded self-assuredly to the blank wall thinking, “ah ha a statement about that the space in which art is exhibited is itself art, a quintessential message about emptiness which...” at this point my thoughts were interrupted by a sign which said “gallery closed for refurbishment to re-open march 2010”... woops!

I could give many more examples of this sort of thing but i prefer not to, when this gallery holds so many great works, dwell on the decline of art. Suffice it to say that in my opinion after the height of early-cubism and impressionist avent-grad styling’s we descended (in madness) to the sort of post modernist abstract expressionist crap that wastes our time money and art-materials. What was it after 1930s that made artistic talent fade like phantoms in a fishbowl. I’m not sure if that makes any sense but i have had not enough sleep and too much art for my own good.

As an afterthought I would feel more confident in my view of late modernism if my sentiment wasn’t shared by Hitler and Stalin – but then maybe there is a little of that in all of us... seriously? Red square on white?? Dripping paint on a canvas? Painting with a blindfold on while on crack? We pay for this??