It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring.

Day 3, Part II

Bled, Slovenia – Ljubljana, Slovenia

We got going again after a local beer and a few photos around the lake. The motorway was quiet and the landscape was becoming less frequent of any mountain or hill. The weather thought it would give itself a change, and for the first time in a while, it began to rain. We hoped that this wouldn’t last the whole two weeks that we were away, as it would just be the worst timing. But this downpour didn’t matter to us in any way, due to the fact that we were in the car and thankfully it soon ended.

Finally, Ljubljana was in sight, and it was now just a matter of finding somewhere, preferably convenient and cheap, or free, to park the car. The hostel was right in the centre on the riverbank. It was awkward, because even though Ljubljana is a small city, it’s also an old one, and the streets were sprawled everywhere, many were in pedestrian zones, in one-way systems or obstructed by road works. But first, we had to cross the river.

Thankfully, it wasn’t so bad finding a parking spot. We managed to find one next to the river. As I had to get the car through automatic bollards, we thought there would be a charge for it, but there was no sign of any signs to tell us. And we were only going to be there until the next morning.

The hostel didn’t prove the easiest to find, either. We knew it was beside the river, but no idea how it looked. We had to count the number of the buildings down, only to realise it was just the street up from where we parked. We counted down as we lugged our cases and bags with us, making some noise as the wheels ramped over the countless cobbles. We had to pass through areas full of tables and chairs and people at cafés and bars that ran the length of the river until we got to the hostel. Tucked away in the corner of a building, out of view from our direction and right next to a trendy looking bar.

Through the large wooden door, all there was to be seen was a desk, a few laundry baskets and a few steps leading up to glass doors. It was quite dark and quaint, and after checking in, we made our way upstairs when we found where they were. The room was of a decent size. It had seven beds: three bunk beds and a single. Three of them were occupied; two English guys were sorting their stuff out and another guy (who we later learnt was a guy from Oregon called Sheldon) was sleeping but snoring as loud as something old and mechanical. We hoped that he would be out and about for the night, going by the assumption that he wouldn’t be tired after sleeping the whole day.

We headed out to the city after dumping our stuff in the room, and wandered about to see what the place had to offer. Rob had been here before and suggested to take the funicular up to the castle that stood upon the hill. On the way there, Rob went to a cash point to get some money out, while I noticed a bare footed tramp sitting and writing away nearby. His beard was long and bushy and possibly had signs of primitive, single celled life thriving in there somewhere. If not, I’m sure microbiologists would also have a field day under his toenails.

And from the top of the hill, we stood on one of the castle walls, which looked over the city. The development of the area was easy to see. In the centre, all you could see were red tiled roofs of the old houses and buildings, now mostly serving as restaurants, hotels, shops and banks. Then on the suburbs, we saw dilapidated and aged blocks of flats. They were of the typical Soviet architecture: grey and dull concrete, dirty single pane windows, satellite dishes popping out of the balconies and the shape of the buildings were square. They were just horrid blocks of concrete and ugliness. Further afield and beyond the mass of huge Lego bricks, the landscape was flat, apart from the mountains in the far distance, and could just about be worked out in the haze.

We didn’t really stay long up there. The tower was closed off due to restoration works and there were admission fees for museums and such, and after a walk around the outside of the castle we headed back to the funicular, which seemed to have stopped half way up for some reason. And when it eventually arrived to the top, me and Rob, the only passengers so far, boarded it, only to be told to get off again and wait five minutes.

We didn’t really understand what the staff member meant, but we got off anyway, and saw him take it down to the bottom, only to pick up some passengers waiting at the bottom. So it seemed doubtful that there was any kind of mechanical or technical problem. He then made his way up again, they all disembarked, and we got back on and things were back to normal once more. And the point of that was…? Answers on a postcard, please!

We continued to wander about the centre, passing a market square, cluttered with rubbish, discarded fruit and veg, and council workers with those old-school bristly brooms sweeping endlessly. Later on at the Three Bridges, there was an old lady selling flowers to passers-by. Not your average pensioner, this one was a bit crazy, preaching something in Slovenian to everyone and shoving bouquets in people’s faces, expecting them to buy it.

A couple of days ago, a friend of ours, Oliver, visited Ljubljana when on his trip, and suggested this pizzeria, which happened to be opposite our hostel. I ordered a large pizza with plenty of meat on top, expecting it to be the size of a normal large pizza. However, this was a different type of large. I’m not sure on the measurements of it, but it was about the size as a family pizza. And this place also did family sized pizzas. It took a while to finish it, and both the pizza and the evening were getting cold by the end! But for what we got at a low price and the rapid beer service, it was up there on my ‘favourite pizzerias list’.

We ended up at an outside bar on a square next to the river. As it was cold, for me anyway, we sat next to those heater type things with the flame inside it, even though it was contained in some thin, tall glass tube. The sofa type seats we were on were so low and too far apart from the table and each other, so we moved onto another table with normal chairs that were possible to move. And in our previous spots, three girls sat there. They spoke English and sounded Irish, however, it turned out that two were Canadian and one was actually Mancunian who was part Bosnian. They were all working in Sarajevo to identify the missing and dead of the recent war.

They also recommended taking the route via Mostar and the valley, as the landscape and scenery were spectacular and the town was very beautiful and famous for its bridge. To be honest, that was our planned route anyway, but it’s good to know it was going to be a good route!

We headed our way back to the hostel later, and I could have done with an early night in order for a long drive the next day to Southern Croatia. I thought I’d check some e-mails, too. I was expecting a couple due to problems with my landlady of the house last year at uni, and also update people on how things were going. But that wasn’t possible. My laptop couldn’t access the Internet and the computers at the hostel may just as well be decoration. I think a carrier pigeon would have been more useful. But it was nice to see good ol’ Microsoft 98 again after so many years!

The two English guys in our room were playing cards in the ‘computer room’, and were off to Bled the next day to go hiking. They told us of their own travels, they were, and presumably still are, on a hiking trip around the Mediterranean. Most people would only do the European half, but they were doing it on a much epic scale. Not only Southern Europe and the Balkans, but also they were planning to travel through Israel and into North Africa and along the coast over to Gibraltar and Spain. They were estimating three months it would take, but unsure on the financial side of things. Though I wonder where they are now. But nevertheless, an idea for a future trip!

Time called for us to go to bed, still hoping for the absence of whatever noise that American was making. However, half way through the night, I was awoken not by pneumatic drill-like noises going off by the side of me, but arguing. At first, I thought it was a random who was having a go at one of the English guys about nicking a pillow, and as I tried to hide mine under the blanket and pretend to sleep, I listened in. In reality, it was not someone being peeved off about his pillow going missing, there were two Irish guys going on about who should have which bed. The only ones available was a single bed by the window at the far end of the room, or the bed above Sheldon the Oregonian Snoring Champion. They even argued and cursed each other (a lot) about one owing the other nine Euros and whose turn it was to have a single bed. It got so close to getting out of hand; they almost broke out into a fight. But they were yet to experience the wonders of a restless night as Sheldon soon got back. And with even being woken by one of the Irish guys in hope he’d stop, he carried on almost immediately.

If the nights were to be like this the whole time in each hostel, it would be quite a problem for me, who’d have to drive throughout the whole route. Being an optimist, I still held onto the thought of nice and peaceful and quiet nights!

A Vignette and an accordion.

Day 3, Part I

Bad Ischl, Austria – Bled, Slovenia

The morning came to leave Austria and head South to new and green-ish pastures. Well, new for me, at least. Heather and Dai already left before us to go to Vienna for the weekend, and me and Rob set off, but not without stopping for five minutes by the river first for some photos, even though the day was a bit grey and dull.

The route to Slovenia was different from the rest in Austria. The mountains were no longer towering above you as you drove down the winding roads; the snow had already melted by this point and the forests became less and less dense. The valleys became much wider than they had been and the land was dotted with villages. But these villages and their buildings looked slightly different from the ones we saw in Austria and in the Alps. They had a more Eastern design to them.

The buildings we’ve already seen in Austria have had the typical Alpine look to them. The wooden huts and chalets in the mountains, with thickly snow-covered roofs stretching out over the paths and entrances to shelter them of frequent and often heavy snow and rain. The windows often have decorative carvings and shapes for their wooden frames, sometimes in warming colours, contrasting the climate of the area.

The buildings are normally terraced in the villages, but they are all irregular in size and shape and sometimes architecture. The façades are normally high with stepped slopes; sometimes they may have statuettes or something similar. The windows all have shutters on them, covering a faded painting or mural when open. The shops would have old fashioned and nostalgic signs hanging over the doors, normally in decorative and elegant designs. The streets would be usually cobbled and only open to pedestrians, some of who would find it difficult to walk right on such uneven surfaces.

But the villages changed as we travelled southwards. They didn’t seem as Alpine, but more Balkan or East European. They were nearly all white in colour with red roofs. They didn’t have any elegant architecture to them, but were plain. The land changed, too. There were not so many rocky mountains, but more rolling and flat plains. It was much more greener, more grass and fields and straighter roads.

Towards the border, it got a bit more mountainous. Tunnels started to reappear and the Autobahn had to be reduced to a single lane to go through the wall of a sheer cliff, and on the other side, there was the border control. For Slovenia, the border controls were still in force, but laxed. I’m not sure if Slovenia is in the Schengen Zone, but we still had to stop for passport checks and to purchase a Vignette for the roads. For Slovenia, we only had the option to buy a Vignette for half a year, and it was not the most suitable amount of time as we were only there for two days. However, we had to pay for it at a total of 37 Euros. But according to the guy at the booth, they were expensive but beautiful. Personally, I would find them boring after handing them out day after day.

And this was the first of many countries to add to my list on this trip of new places that I’ve visited and it started off all peachy!

We got to Bled with out any problems, either, and it was relatively easy to find some place to park the car, especially as it isn’t the biggest place on Earth. As soon as we stopped the car, the attendant was already eagerly waiting for us to pay up, as if he was perching high above us with his eyes poised on fresh meat.

Fortunately, the car park was right next to the lake. As we walked on the path alongside the lake, we took in the surroundings. The lake was clear and still and also with good reflections, even though there was a bit more cloud this time. The castle was balancing right on the edge of the cliff, nearly hanging over the lakeside. There were small, wooden boats tied up to the small, wooden piers lining the banks, which took tourists and visitors around the lake to admire the landscape surrounding it, and also the small isle in the middle, dominated by a tall, white tower of the church occupying it.

We came across an aged musician and his accordion. He was dressed in what seemed to be a local and traditional costume. But the way he was playing attracted our attention to him. He just sat there facing the ground. He looked tired and somewhat sad. His face gave the impression that he may be wise and knew a lot about life and the world with all its big questions and mysterious. And with his thick, white eyebrows and high, prominent cheekbones, his eyes were set back. And he just played. I don’t know what he played, but it seemed faultless, and even more extraordinary to find out that he was actually blind.

I thought I’d take the opportunity to photograph the serenity and contemplation in his expressions as he played the music, but not without some other guy coming up to me and grunted something in Slovenian. I used my Slovenian skills, consisting of pointing and shrugging, and assumed he was there with the musician. He may have said something about having to pay the musician because I took a photo of him, which I thought it was fair enough, but did he have to pimp him out like that? I’m sure he could have waited until I actually finished taking the photo or if I was walking off after without giving him a Euro or something, which I would have done anyway.

We noticed something here, which would be occurring over again throughout the trip. On the lake there were many ducks, but they seemed to be always in pairs. These pairs were always made up of one dull and brown coloured duck, which are female, and a more colourful partner, which could only be the male. As common sense would prevail, we put two and two together and realised it must be something to do with the mating season, especially with being Spring and that. If Spring is the mating season for ducks, that is. But what struck us most was that they were basically stuck to each other. They always kept each other by their sides, as if there was some kind of string attaching them together. We didn’t really know that ducks behaved like this, we knew swans had life long partners, but we were unaware that ducks also had a similar way of doing things. Maybe it was just for the mating season, or maybe they do the same as swans and stay together. I can’t really see ducks as players, but I think that’s how the cookie crumbles.

Shandies and a posing fisherman.

Day 2, Part II

Zell Am See, Austria – Bad Ischl, Austria

Even though Zell Am See is a small place, it’s popular and famous for its location in the Alps and also the lake that is sits on. There were a lot of tourists, many from Britain, France, Italy and further afield, and we could see they were here for skiing, hiking, sitting in the pubs or just passing through like us.

There was not much in Zell Am See itself, nothing new anyway. It was very much like the majority of Alpine villages in Austria that are magnets to tourism. It was still a picturesque and quaint place, though. The lake was also very beautiful. It covered a large area, right up to the foot of a large mountain that stood on one end to another large mountain on the other end. Its surface was still partially iced over from Winter, which obstructed what may have been a perfectly still reflection of the mountains, forests and sky.

We found a café in the village and ordered locally brewed beer and some Apfelstrudel with ice cream, something that I first tried out in Hallstatt and have instantly had a soft spot for. Heather got an Apfelschorle or something similar, and Dai peculiarly ordered a Radler, unaware that it was actually a shandy. As he asked the waitress for a Radler, the confused looks on the three of us were silently posing the big question of what just happened. Dai? A Radler? It definitely couldn’t have been a sign that he was suffering from the night before; we stayed in. It can’t be jetlag after the flight from Berlin to Salzburg. What happened to Dai? Someone who could, and possibly would drink this Earth dry ordered a Radler instead of a proper beer.

And so we asked him, why did he get a Radler? Apparently it was because he thought it was a kind of beer, and was completely unaware that it was actually beer mixed with lemonade. We were surprised that he had never heard of Radler before, even though he’d been in Germany for the past seven months. But then, he said he wouldn’t have needed to use the word Radler before!

After a brief wander about the village, we got back into the car and drove to the other side of the lake to get a different view and perspective of the landscape. There was a small park and a small pier at the lakeside. We could just about see the village we were at earlier, however the Sun shone towards us making photographing a bit difficult due to the glare, but it did make up for it by creating a good photogenic reflection on the lake and ice.

Next to the wharf there were three small wooden huts that stretched out on stilts into the water, maybe old boathouses but without ramps. These also provided some good photo opportunities, especially how they were away from the rest of the buildings. The three huts were lined up in a row, they didn’t look the same, and were different colours of wood, but all were dark coloured, as if they weren’t painted or varnished or even used for such a long time. They stood in such idyllic positions, infinitely staring out onto the still waters of the Zellersee.

At some point, a fisherman turned up at one of the huts and just sat there at the edge of the platform of the first hut. At first, he didn’t set up anything, but just sat there smoking, leaning on his knee with the other leg dangling over the water. He was in one of those contemplating moments, looking over the lake and across to the mountains, as if he was thinking and wondering about the big things in life and the world. It seemed he was at peace with himself. As it wasn’t often that opportunities of people sit in such places and at such times like this, so we made the most to photograph this moment, and he may have soon become aware of all our cameras pointing towards him, even though it was some distance. But he carried on doing what he did and soon set up his fishing rod, still being such a great subject to photograph.

When we exhausted the scene of photos, we moved on to Salzburg, a place that all of us apart from Dai have visited, if the airport isn’t included. It has been nearly two years since I was last there, and I still remember a significant amount of it and where the places and streets were. As we were driving along the Autobahn, we discovered that Dai was very fond of tunnels, even though it got a bit boring and monotonous going through them for me and Rob by now, he also liked the idea of trolley buses, which is a very popular mode of public transport in East European countries.

But it was getting dark as we arrived, and made the most of the light by taking as much photos of the places as we could, and then find a pub later. Where the places would be crawling with people and small horses and carts, it was empty and quiet. The main squares in front of cathedrals and churches were clear. There were also no market stalls that I remember filling up the square and where I also bought my famed Austrian, badge filled, feather hat. But the scaffolding and building work was still in the same place on the same church, unless they did finish after I was last there, but they seemed to have restarted or just didn’t bother taking the lot down.

We eventually headed back to Bad Ischl, by which time it got dark yet easier to find the way as it was just the same route as the day before. And this time, we did manage to find the hidden route that evaded us last time.

Montain roads and avalanches.

Day 2, Part I
Bad Ischl, Austria – Zell Am See, Austria

Today was about milling around the local-ish area and seeing local places. After dealing with yesterday’s long drive and its events, I could really do with something not as mind-cooking.

Bad Ischl is a small town, or a village; I’m not entirely sure which. But it’s situated in the midst of the Austrian Alps. The flat was actually on the very bottom of a mountain, and it wasn’t just a mountain you’ll usually find in Britain with a bit of grass and trees; a few sheep and horses that can be found grazing on the top and Farmer Giles herding his cattle with his collie. It was a typical Alpine mountain with a lot of rock, possibly some loose bits, a few huts dotted around its steep slopes, tall pines forming a mass of dark green making its way half way to the summit and it also had an imposing summit topped with a crucifix, which seemed to be the usual feature on many mountain tops in the area.

For today, we went to another village, which was popular due it being a typical Alpine-Austrian village next to a very picturesque lake and we thought we’d go there via a mountain road. It may have taken longer to get there, but it was a shorter route and also more scenic and a change from the monotonous and also busier Autobahn and main roads.

After buying a map of the local area that actually showed this road, we made our way up. We had no idea how this was going to go. Would it be closed? Will it be wide enough for my car? Will it b

e too steep that the car wouldn’t be able to go up it, even screaming in first? What if Farmer Hans was herding a load of cattle up the track? With all these uncertainties of what may lay ahead, we made our way cautiously upward along the twisting.

The river reminded me of when in Hallstatt and hiking in the Salzkammergut region. The Sun was shining brightly and bearing strongly down on us. The heat was tiring and intense and it didn’t help that there was hardly a breeze, making us more fatigue and parched. We all made the most of each encounter with the rivers and streams we came across, too. As they all come from glaciers and the high mountaintops, the water was freezing cold and so refreshing, and the spray and the freshness that came from them was such a saviour and such a good feeling. And the river we were driving along was just like those rivers.

As we got higher and higher, the road twisted more and were steeper and the corners became sharper. The views were becoming more spectacular, too. The valleys seemed deeper and the drop seemed near vertical. Apparently this was a bus route to the skiing centre at the top of the mountain, so if a bus could do it, I’m sure my car would be, too! And the road was busier than I thought with other traffic. It wasn’t a case of reversing back a bit into the nearest lay-by, but for such a road, I didn’t expect so many. But I guess the skiing centre had something to do with it. With the other traffic using the roads, I had to ease carefully around the sharp and blind bends that frequented the climb. More often than not, you see idiots driving on mountain roads because they think nobody else uses them, especially the case in Britain, and I guess it was best to prepare for the same thing here.

Here is a photo I took on the way up with Rob, Dai, Heather and Ruth...

After a couple of stops on the side of the road to savour the scenery all around us, we arrived at the skiing centre. The place was quite large, especially the car park. It wasn’t at the top of the mountain as we thought, but it was high enough. Unfortunately, there weren’t as many Kodak Moments as we hoped, either, but the place was still picturesque. But we didn’t stop to ski as we had to get moving, but even if we did have the time, I’d rather have taken a few photos around the place instead of falling all the time in the snow in a lame attempt to ski.

But leaving the car park seemed trivial. There was a road carrying in the direction we were headed, but one lane of the road was blocked by a barrier, however, we noticed other vehicles leaving in that direction and wet tyre marks bypassing the barrier and carrying on. We hesitated at first, but if we turned back, it would be a long and possibly unnecessary detour around the mountain. So we went on.

The further we carried on this road, the deeper the snow became. The snowploughs had no chance of clearing this road; they must have used those diggers that get used for motorway road works. As the road continued, the walls of snow grew higher and higher to about twice the height of the car. Occasionally, there were small areas dug out of the snow, but these didn’t look as if they were made for passing bays in case two vehicles encountered each other in opposite directions, but they looked more like parking bays, or junctions for another road, but they just didn’t bother to clear out that road.

The scenery became more and more spectacular, the forests were dense covered a massive area on the mountainsides. The countless impressive peaks of the snow-covered mountains broke into the sky around us. It felt as if we were isolated from the rest of the world, as there were no more cars parked in the snow, there were no chalets or huts to be seen. There was just wilderness.

The road was very, very quiet as we drove along. Earlier there was the frequent car that would pass us, but there was none to be seen. We did see warning signs telling us to be careful along the road, especially due to avalanche danger. But the closest thing we saw to an avalanche was sometimes clumps of snow would fall off the top of ‘the snow wall’ and onto the road.

We arrived at the other end of the road and came across a tollbooth, similar to the one at the beginning, but unusually, they didn’t charge per vehicle, but per person in the vehicle. The booth was closed, unlike the one we went through earlier. The barrier was closed to entry, stating that the road we were on was actually closed in danger of avalanches, even though it was peculiarly signed on the other end. Thankfully though, we could still pass the booth on our end and carried on to Zell Am See along normal, regularly used and avalanche free roads. And the following photo is what the view was like after passing the tollbooth and heading down into the valley.

Bright lights and airports.

Day 1, Part II

Basel, Switzerland – Bad Ischl, Austria

After finally getting that mishap sorted out the windscreen repair centre and draining a considerable chunk out of my account, we fled Basel and headed for Austria. One good thing about going through Switzerland was we didn’t need to buy another vignette, which we already got when we last got here after visiting its back garden that is Liechtenstein earlier this year.

In Austria, we have a friend who is living there this year, also as an assistant. She is living in a small town called Bad Ischl, which is in the Salzkammergut Region. The region is an amazing place with mountainous landscape. I visited the area almost two years ago with the hiking club at uni and stayed in nearby Hallstatt for about two weeks. It was also the first time I’ve been to a German speaking country (if I don’t include those three hours in Aachen when I was a nine year old).

Anyway, this area is absolutely amazing. The mountains are huge, they are so high, it’s not often they are clear of cloud or fog. They tower the valleys, which they form and dwarf the trees that grow on them. On the mountainsides, you often see small wooden huts and chalets dotted around and isolated from civilisation. It even seems a long way to reach the tiny village below them on the valley floor, even though there may be a small track winding down the mountainside. If there was one place to come for some peace and quiet and solidarity (and a few good Kodak Moments), this was it.

As I was driving along the Autobahn, I though to myself that again, this was another good day of driving. Luckily, the weather was again cloudless and warm and the roads were also clear. But what really got to me that day were impatient and arrogant drivers. It’s a common thing in Germany, when businessmen and the type who drive those expensive executive style cars, such as BMW, Audi and Mercedes cars. I’ve mentioned this before in the blog. But they really get so close up to the back of you, they try to intimidate you and get you out of the way so they can jolly up the Autobahn at a ridiculous speed. One driver in particular did this, but was not German or Austrian. Well, he could have been, but his van, which was white, was registered to Estonia. I don’t know how they drive up there, but if this guy was anything to go by, I would not be too pleased if I were to drive there.

The first time I came across him was when I was overtaking him, as I got in the outside lane and sped up, he also picked up his speed as I neared him. This left me unable to get in front of him and get back in the inside lane and carry on. Instead, I had to go back to the inside lane and stay behind him until he slowed down again.

Eventually, I overtook him and went on. I was going along and decided to overtake this car in front. The car was going at an awkward speed, when it was too slow to stay behind, yet too fast to overtake efficiently. But I thought I’d get around him anyway, and picked up a decent speed to do so. I was overtaking well, but all of a sudden and from nowhere, the White Van Man appeared right behind me. I still have no idea what his problem was, but it seemed he was eager to get going. He got right up behind me, so close that I may well have been able to hook him onto my tail hitch. He then decided this wasn’t enough to get me out of the way, so he put on his full beam lights, and at such a close distance behind, it was such a blinding through the mirror. But what could I do? I couldn’t slow down for him to back off, in case he’d shunt me to get moving. I couldn’t speed up because there was a limit and also because my car just wouldn’t gain another 10mph in a matter of a second, especially with all that weight in the car. I couldn’t move back into the inside lane because it would have meant I’d cause some damage to my car and even more so to the car right beside me.

What really annoyed me about that was the fact that not only it was plain arrogant and disrespectful and intimidating to other drivers, but also it was dangerous to go so close behind and use those full beams in order to make people to give way. What would have happened if those lights shone into my eyes, forcing me to lose sight of the road and what’s in front, making me to swerve into the central reservation or the car next to me? What if his plan backfired and I hit on the brakes? I think his van would have received more damage than mine due to the tail hitch at the back of mine.

Anyway, the idiot overtook me eventually, and went on, but not even at a fast pace. After he overtook me, he was going at normal speed then. So I was really not in the mood for such games and just put my foot down and angrily fed him my dust.

Unfortunately, time was running a bit thin after that ordeal in Basel, which meant that our stop in Innsbruck had to be binned. Dai was landing at Salzburg soon, and we had to get a move on in time to pick him up. We even had to alter our route slightly to take a shortcut via Germany and straight up to Salzburg, instead of going via the more countryside-esque road and staying in Austria. But by this time, it got dark and would not have mattered anyway.

One thing that we didn’t check with Dai is which terminal he was arriving at. We realised this as we passes signs for the airport and its north and south terminals. Rob quickly phoned Dai and asked, who told us there is only one terminal. I remember that the airport was a small place, and therefore it shouldn’t be problematic to find him there, so I went with instinct and carried on for the northern one, hoping that it wouldn’t get us lost and waste even more time.

As we got there (without any glitch), we found out that there were two terminals, but numbered One and Two, with Two being closed. By this time, Heather was still there with Dai in a McDonald’s somewhere in the airport. As I cleared the back of the car from all the crates and bottles and jackets, Rob went to search for them.

And so we were back on the road again to Bad Ischl, which had an awkward one-way system and small and narrow lanes. It didn’t help that it was dark and we ended up this way because the easier route was missed as the junction was inconveniently concealed by a bend and signs that looked as if they prohibited access, soon finding out that the small print stated that it was so between certain times for certain vehicles.

We got to Heather’s flat, and after watching painfully bad wrestling that was on the telly for some reason, I shortly fell asleep on the sofa bed thingy that was there.

Below is the view from Heather's balcony the next morning.

Saying goodbye to the Fatherland and hello to the chip.

Day 1, Part I

Worms, Germany – Basel, Switzerland

Finally, the time has come to go on the southeastcentral-ish road trip, which has been building up for many a month along with the planning and the bookings for it. I went to school in the morning for the first lesson, however, I had another lesson to teach at the end of the school day and five hours to spare in between. I wanted to do something constructive, such as a bit more of route planning or reading more about the places we’re going to. I couldn’t find much, so I basically spent the time twiddling my thumbs and eating organics fair-trade chocolate.

And after I broke free of school, I gave one of the teachers a bottle of Welsh whiskey, which I kept forgetting about since I brought it back after Christmas. And so I left Recklinghausen just after school and made my way down to Worms to meet Rob.

But to be honest, the drive down was really good. I reckon one of the best drives I’ve had for some time. It was a really nice day with nice weather and clear-ish roads… and some good tunes coming from the speakers. Couldn’t be better, really! And I even had my tank filled up for me when I got around Frankfurt, however, the apples in the shop weren’t the best. They were the non-crunchy ones with a funny taste, just as if they were a bit off and dated.

When finally in Worms (after some congestion around Frankfurt and Bensheim), we just went to a local pub with Rob’s housemate for a bit and had a local beer or two. They were also showing the football match between Wales and Germany, with Wales being unsurprisingly two points behind. But what do I care? It’s all about the rugby, anyway!

And so in the next morning, the time came for actually heading off on the trip. As we had a bit of time, we thought we’d change the route a bit, so we’d go via Basel, Zurich and St Gallen and then enter Austria on the West side, just about missing Liechtenstein. But there isn’t much to miss there anyway, especially as we’ve recently been there. We also ditched the hostel at Salzburg and stayed at a friend’s flat in Bad Ischl, which would save us a bit of money, too.

Again, the weather was sunny and warm and the skies were clear blue and so were the roads, clear and flowing well. Everything was going just peachy. But when we were approaching Basel, we noticed that the windscreen had a small chip in it, which was not at all good. I remember having a crack in the windscreen last Summer when I had the Golf, and it was rather pricey to get a new one, not something I was really planning. I really did not want to get my windscreen replaced, as it would be expensive, waste a lot of time for a replacement to be ordered and also I’d lose my Vignettes!

Another troubling thing was that as we got to Basel, we had limited ideas on where to even look for somewhere that could repair it. CarGlass and AutoGlass and places like that are normally situated in the industrial and business areas, so we though we’d have a look for signs heading that way. But it still proved difficult as we didn’t know the name of the area. I asked in local garages a couple of times, but had as much luck as marrying the Pope’s daughter.

After asking at various garages, a couple of Peugeot centres and a former windscreen repair centre; we finally found one. It would take about 45 minutes, but at a cost of 270 Swiss Francs… which is equivalent to about €150, I think, or it could have been a bit more. But still, it was not something I was happy to pay out, but it had to be done. It would have been easier to do it there and then, in a place where people don’t rip you off and where we can easily communicate through a mutual language. It would probably be a much more difficult task in such places as Bosnia and Serbia, where the only form of communication between us could be pointing, shrugging and nodding.

Abi

On Monday, I just parked my car up at the car park opposite the school, and so I was dawdling up the pavement when I saw someone in this hideous green dress talking on the phone. But as I got closer, I realised it was a guy.

Alright, I thought. Not my cup of tea, but whatever floats his boat. These days it is considered more and more acceptable to see people cross-dressing. Even some famous people so it, mostly for telly, but apparently they do it anyway, like Eddie Izzard, for example.

And then, as I stood next to the traffic lights to cross the road, there were more people in drag on the other side. I wasn’t sure what to think. Was it one of those meetings? Was it Dress Like A Woman Day? Was it for a joke? Are they starting their party early? And the closer I got to school, the more I saw people dressed up in clothes of the opposite gender. And they all seem to have emerged from the school gate, too. I thought to myself, “oh no… what have I missed?”

It turns out that this week is the last week of school for the students in Year 13. They are doing their Abitur exams, which are equivalent to A Levels. And normally, they dress up for school, with a different theme each day, like, Monday was cross-dressing, yesterday was astronauts, robots, metally things with a futuristic space age feel to them… one was dressed up as an astronaut, complete with foil covered box on the back and a homemade round helmet. And today apparently is Nostalgic Childhood Day. The students are all dressed up as their favourite cartoon character or whatever they liked when younger. I saw two dressed as Asterix and Obelix, which was quite impressive. And as I’m writing this, they did another Conga, and some of the costumes are good… like the Simpsons; Mario and Luigi; the Smurf and those ducks who are nephews of Donald… I think.

And tomorrow, or Friday, I can’t remember which, but it’s a 70s and 80s theme. So I imagine afros, flares, ridiculous Elton John sunglasses, glittery white jackets, maybe a leather jacket or two, maybe with the frilly bits on the sleeves. I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw Elvis again. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be here to see it.

A couple of them even parked their cars in the courtyard, opened the boots and doors and just blasted music out. God knows what it was they were playing, but it was hellish loud. They even did the Conga via the teachers’ lounge, too… with the first couple wearing masks, which were simply paper masks with the photo of the headmaster on them.

However, the week should be fun for them. I’m not sure when the exams are exactly, but good luck to them!

The first of April

And it’s quite a significant day for a couple of reasons, to be honest.

It’s obvious to everyone… or maybe at least some, that it’s April Fool. It was around this time two years ago that I was in Cyprus with the ATC, and for the April Fool joke, us CWOs and a couple of the other NCOs played a prank on the lower ranks.

Then, it was around the time when there were troubles with the Royal Marines and Iran, and so we came up with the idea that we’ll persuade the rest of them that a few Royal Marines and Special Forces were going to Iran and stopping off at RAF Akrotiri, and therefore needing our accommodation as the rest of the base was full.

So we told the rest that we have to move into tented accommodation near the airfield, so they had to pack absolutely everything and form up on the nearby car park. Only to be told that they’d been had. ‘twas great. Granted that not everyone took the joke to heart, but they eventually got over it! But I must say, it was much better than crappy jokes like pointing behind someone shouting there’s a pink elephant or a flying pig.

Another reason that today is significant is because it was 212 days ago that I first arrived in Germany! Not that 212 is a number that means anything to me… but it’s made up of two different numbers… it’s… it’s what you get with 53 fours! And in a normal year, the 212th day is the 31st of July… not that the date means anything to me, either… apart from it being 3 weeks before my birthday! So I guess that could be a link…

And today, I leave Recklinghausen and Nordrhein-Westfalen for a bit. I’ll be driving down to Worms to meet Rob and then tomorrow we shall disembark on our road trip around southeastcentral-ish Europe! Should be good. However, that means I may not write on the Blog for a while… I may write a few stuff for it, but I may not be able to load it online. But I’m sure to write stuff about it!

It should go well, especially as the weather really has improved since the clocks went forward. I haven’t seen a cloud for a few days! But I may need to get a good atlas, to be honest. My atlas is alright, but the rural areas look barren, especially in the Balkan countries. And also Google Maps present Sarajevo and Belgrade as colourful, bright, lively, bustling metropolis.

Ha! April Fool on that one.

In fact, I have no idea what these cities look like, as it seems they are just empty and grey on the maps. Not sure if it’s that bad that there is no need to display them, or Google haven’t scanned that area yet. But I doubt those are the cases. Two capital cities are not going to be flat wasteland with a wooden privy and a mad, old woman. And Google Maps surely would have taken satellite photos of them, they even have a photo or two of my old car on Street View. So it must be a government thing. They are still communists at heart.

But anyway, I think that is all to write about for now. Apart from one thing I’ve been meaning to write, and it’ll be pointless to write about by the time I get back. So I’ll get onto it for the next post!