31 Dezember 2009

In March 1944 eighty percent of Frankfurt was destroyed by allied bombs. The historical area of Sachenhaus where Mere lives has many of the old buildings interspersed with new dwellings where previous ones were hit. Other parts of Frankfurt are entirely post-war. This morning we explored the new area, the skyscrapers (apparently unique in Germany), the opera house and the up-market shops.



As happened over Christmas Germany is now closed for 3 and a half days.

We went to a most enjoyable New Years's Eve dinner party at an Aussie/German couple's home. Great company, lively conversation and wonderful food. One traditional dish was raclette cooked in individual coupelles. We also had fondue, baked apple and too much wine.

Fireworks are sold freely everywhere and we've been hearing explosions for several days. At midnight, a couple of dozen people gathered in the square and randomly set off crackers in an uncharacteristically random way. In was dangerous, fantastic and somehow unGerman. A man called Jorge offered me a glass of champagne and a beanie. I accepted both and we partied on.

Off to Florence tomorrow. Tschuus!

Wednesday 30th Dezember

This morning we went to the local, very new swimming pool. Its design is a cross between an old fashioned spa and a modern Olympic pool. You move through a series of doors into your own tiny change room before being ejected out the other side into the water.
The swimmers were very sedate: every single one breaststroking languidly, stoically, grimly along. No-one's hair got wet except at the edges, no showing off jocks powered past, there was no lane range aimed at slow swimmers.
The key to your room came with a bracelet to wear while you swam - no need to hide it in your towel or stick it in your togs. They had thought of everything.
The showers were 'all in together girls, never mind the weather girls' (just don't check me out quite so obviously, OK?). The Germans don't seem to be worried about privacy or modesty. Meredith tells me that the famous Frankfurt kitchen sometimes included a toilet.

Tomorrow is New Year's Eve and we are invited to a party. On New Year's Day we fly to Florence for 5 days where temperatures are expected to reach a balmy 11 degrees. Tropical.

Tuesday 29th, Eau de Cologne
We rose at sparrows' and travelled to Cologne taking the scenic route along the Rhine. Germany is picturesque in places but the prominence of industrial sites prevents it being as pretty as France.

After two and a half hours in the amazing, glowering cathedral (where I briefly forgot that I am an atheist and lit a candle for Maddles), we had a quick coffee.


Then it started to rain. We had a choice between shelling out for a brolly in the colours of the Cologne Fussball (Soccer) Club, or for the same money, visiting a Roman sewer. It was a no brainer: I am travelling with Dr. History after all.


For every shower of rain after that there was a Roman museum to shelter in so I am now the full bottle on the Roman occupation of Germania with a Major in Waste Disposal Systems.

After a couple of glasses of Koelsch, the local beer, a box of noodles and a coffee it was back on the ICE to Frankfurt.

And did I buy any Eau de Cologne? Ja. Fumf bottles. 4711? Ja again. Naturlich.

Wiesenbad

Yesterday (Sunday) we visted the spa town of Wiesenbad. It's an attractive place but, like the rest of Germany, pretty much still closed. We explored what we could: the cathedral, a spa, the old town which was best seen from the top of the ferris wheel. Apart from that we graviated between coffee shops keeping out of the cold.

I was hoping to see a regiment of hungry Germans emerge from their homes this morning in quest of fresh supplies. There has been no bread, milk, fruit, vegies or meat for 4 days. But things are still quiet down there on Schwantaler Strasse.

Jim has taken Mads to the pool and this afternoon we plan to hit the shops for bargains.
Tomorrow, maybe Cologne where I should be able to get some Eau de.

Christmas Day - Dezember 25

"I can't believe my eyes!". These words were our alarm clock at 6.30 this morning. Mads had awoken and spied the pile of presents Father Christmas had left her. And very well chosen presents they were too - just perfect for Mads.
We had a lovely day: cooked and ate and drank, unwrapped and walked then ate and drank some more. It was so nice to share the day with Hil in Hobart via Skype. Aint technology grand?
Great presents all round. Most surprising for me was a necklace from Matt which I had admired in a shop window when we were on our way to a coffee shop yesterday. There were several similar but he bought THE one. I couldn't believe my eyes!
Jim was equally touched by Matt's gift to him: a trilobite from the dinosaur museum

Germany is now closed. It closed at lunch time on Christmas Eve and won't re-open until Monday. I have never seen streets so quiet - not even on Grand Final Day in Melbourne

Dezember 21-22 Heidelberg



We all went to Heidelberg for an overnight stop. Our room in the hotel was at the very top and had a sloping roof with a skylight. Right Foot could not stand up in half of it. The hotel is connected to a university which offers courses in hospitality and is run by students. We were asked to overlook any 'mishaps'. We tried our best.





We took the funicular up to the top of Konigstuhl where we did all the traditional snowy stuff: snowmen, snowballs, apple streudel etc. Then half way down to the ruined schloss which had great atmosphere in the gloom and snow.





No crepes for dinner tonight: we went to a Chinese restaurant where Mads chummed up with the owner's 5 year-old daughter. They played happily despite language challenges.

It was a great day





Tuesday was much milder - in fact not cold at all and we could actually take our hats off for the first time in 2 weeks. I have tulip-shaped hair after all that time in a beanie. Because it's necessary to wear a coat, scarf and hat all the time, my photos give the impression that none of us has changed clothes for a fortnight.

We went to the museum where we saw, amongst other things, the jawbone of Heidelberg Man, our 600,000 year-old relative.
He still had most of his teeth. If his can last so long why do we have so much trouble keeping our teeth for 50 or 60 years?

White Christmas



We really are having a White Christmas. The snow is thick and heavy and right up to the front door. The trees are decorated with real snow not foam from an aerosol can. I have never seen snow falling before and never seen it in an urban area at all. Now I trudge around like Good King Wencelas in a white white world. It's an amazing experience.



We are off to Heidelberg tomorrow to check out the uni where Hamlet went to school

Strasbourg Day 3 - Samedi

We woke this morning to a snowy vista dotted with pretty Christmas trees. Who knew the view from a 2 star hotel could be so romantic? But did I want to go out in it? Mais non! Did I have to? Mais oui!
Oh well. Another crepe. Another museum. Followed by more adventures on the ICE train back to Frankfurt where it is minus 10 degrees.

Strasbourg Day 2 - Vendredi

Today we explored beautiful Petit France: the old city where the entire French army holed up in the Napoleonic wars. I bought some gorgeous Alsation lace Christmas decorations, tres chic. The street decorations are the classiest, most sophisticated and stylish I have ever seen.




Thankfully there are numerous excellent museums in Strasbourg where we could shelter from the cold. I would have agreed to anything, even a car museum or the Museum of Toenail Clippings

THREE DAYS IN ALSACE

Jeudi - Death Avoided By Chocolat

We took the Intercity to Strasbourg to check out the Alsations, the sausage (Stras, Fritz or Devon depending on which state of Australia you grew up in)and the famed Chistmas markets.

Because we are old buggers we got a 25% discount on our train fare which, according to our calculations, meant the price came down to 150 Euro. But no. The tickets cost 152.80. Turns out the last 2 stations are in France and the discount stops at the border.

Strasburg is very beautiful, historic and interesting but absolutely freezing. Big Jim bought another coat to wear on top of the one he already had and all the clothes beneath.

Dinner was crepes in the markets and to drink Vin Chaud followed by Chocolat Chaud which was a cupful of melted chocolate with coconut sprinkled on top. Rich and sickly, it tasted like a liquid lamington but warded off death by hyperthermia for a couple more hours.

It's sneeing, it's sneeing, it's sneeing! Not enough for an actual sneeman but definitely a sneefall. It's a few zillion degrees below zero and snowing. i've just been out walkng in it: through the Christmas markets, over the bridge and through the plaza to the Touristinformation. How brave was that? never call me a fraidy cat again!

There's no Christmas rush in Germany. Apparently everyone's been organised for months. No hustle, bustle or frenzy. Just orderly, controlled shopping.

All around the streets in Frankfurt there are trees adorned with brilliant and delicate decorations. None have been vandalised or even affected by the weather. I can't imagine they would remain in this state in Melbourne. Some passing yobboes would have destroyed them for the fun of it.

We are becoming accustomed to piling on layers everytime we venture out. As Melbournians we know about layering but not like this - I have more skins than an onion at the moment and look rather like one too. The need for hats means that I am in a constant state of helmet hair and am becoming quite dextrous at doing things with my gloves on.

We had good news from Hil today - all looking good at the 20 week scan but she declined the opportunity to know the gender - dang!

Chilli in Bangkok and chilly in Frankfurt too

Twenty-eight muggy hours in Bangkok viewing temples, swimming in a rooftop pool and storing up vitamins D and C is now being followed by bone-numbing cold and all that fearful food (I was right to be afraid - this morning I have seen foot-long, python-thick 'wursts' of every description being cooked in huge outdoor braziers and hungrily consumed} I couldn't decide which was the least worst wurst so had a cup of coffee instead.



Our flight from Bangkok was overbooked and we were offered 600 Euro and other benefits to relinguish our seats but the thought of disappointing Mads made acceptance impossible. Mere and Maddles were at the airport for our 5.30 a.m. arrival - Maddles in her Sam-Sam outsuit - and we have had a wonderful morning but are beginning to wilt a little now. Never mind! Mere is promising gluwein later on and the famous Christmas markets at night. And there is bok choy in the house! And Aussie wine! And a veritable mountain of jars of vegemite.

So I've learnt a lot in a couple of days. I can distinguish between a Buddha subduing the seas and one subduing the relatives. Also one subduing mara which I take to mean the world in general. Buddhas are very good at subduing.

we are getting about 8 hours of daylight and it's now clear why I have this fair skin. It's perfect for absorbing the few skerricks of vitamin D available. Only thing is I'm not sure I'm tall enough to compete with the locals for my share.

Festive in Frankfurt

Tomorrow,Right Foot and I head off to Germany to spend Christmas with Mere, Matt and Mads. We have already had Christmas with Hil, Rob, the Unborn (aka Bisleri Fruitelle) and Rob's mum so this will be our second dip.

I've heard so much about the wonderful Christmas markets in Germany and at last get to see them. Mere says they are a bit cheesey but I'm up for a bit of kaese, kein problem. I've been making a late run on learning a bit of Deutsch. For some reason the phrase 'Wan es fruhstuck' (When is breakfast) has stuck in my brain. I'm not sure why it has such importance: I've had the same breakfast (vegemite toast and tea) for fifty years and don't expect that will change because of 5 weeks in Germany. I notice that they have not one but two words that mean dog's breakfast and another one for donkey's breakfast (I think I'd prefer that - there may be some vegetable matter involved). I'm a bit worried about the German food, all blood sausage and chocolate tortes. Hwmm. I wonder how you say bok choy in German? And tofu? And 'Lose the salt for Pete's sake!!'

A few more pics of Madeleine's holiday in Melbourne

The Mummy Car

The Heiress named it the mummy car because it was usually Mummy who drove her around in it. The mummy car made many a trip between Collingwood and South Melbourne in the peak-our traffic, with Grumpy Girl desperately trying to keep The Heiress amused by singing, playing word games and telling stories.

I bought the mummy car when Grump and Matt took The Heiress to Germany seven weeks ago but, owing to what Kinsley Amis called a “Bum Recital” (AAMI bum, roadworthy bum, VicRoads bum, City of Port Phillip bum, man-across-the-road-bum …) I only drove it for the first time today and will have to drive it home (in the dark) tonight.

For 40 years I have driven a manual car: the mummy car is automatic. There doesn’t seem to be enough for me to do. What have I forgotten? Gears? Clutch? Hardest of all is the leap of faith required to believe the car won’t roll back when I take my foot off the brake. Can it be true? I have done my last handbrake start? Corner of Toorak and Tooronga – bring it on!



I was very nervous this morning, grimly clutching the steering wheel and not daring to put the radio on (that’ll soon change – can’t get home without Francis and Ox). Then I tuned in to the good vibes left behind by Grumpy and The Heiress and knew I was safe. The wheels on the car would go round and round, round and round and the person in the car would be protected by familiar mitochondrial DNA, notwithstanding the driver behind going toot, toot, toot! Toot, toot, toot! All the way to town.

Endless weekend

Our third weekend without The Heiress and definitely the worst. The first one was spent cleaning up the aftermath of 3 extra bodies and their stuff in our small apartment and the second one was Easter with its distractions. But yesterday the Great Nothingness descended. What did we do on weekends in the olden days before Mads was born?

We began the day at Camby Market which Dr Shed loves and I tolerate once per decade. We left there with a supply of rusty washboards, useless tools and fresh colds.
From there it was off to DFO for some el cheapo tees, whose relative newness was the only thing distinguishing them from the dejected-looking clothing at Camby.
This was followed by a walk around Albert Park Lake throwing thawing cake at the ducks. (I had at last found time to clean out the freezer).

The afternoon loomed ominously ahead. Half an hour on Skype talking to Grumpy Girl made me feel both better and worse. It’s fab technology but there’s no bod to bod. Grandparents need cuddles.

The Heiress has gone. To live in Germany. So have her mum, Grumpy Girl and dad, Matthew. Dr Shed and I have lost our first born daughter and our only grandchild. It is very very depressing. What’ll we do on weekends now? No more play parks, babychinos, Hooble Dooble DVDs, bath toys or playdough. No more singing nursery rhymes in the car, no more tram rides along St Kilda Rd pointing out the floral clock, the Arts Centre spire and Mummy’s old school (VCA). No more lying on the floor of the Great Hall, choosing our favourite colour leadlight in the ceiling.

No more chirping little girl voice, no more warm bod to bod cuddles, no more kissing the cheek of a sleeping angel.

Grumpy Girl has now sold 400,000 copies of her 17 books. Here is a picture of her and her little family on the night of the launch of her 18th. Note The Heiress in her Madeline outsuit (as she calls it)

Parking Schmarking

Because Dr. Shed has the garage stuffed with a wild variety of objects, useful, not useful, bizarre, unidentifiable and just a bloody nuisance, we cannot get either of our cars in there. We have to find two parking spots in the street and when we nab ones close to home we become extremely reluctant to move our cars at all, preferring to walk, catch a tram or a taxi or simply stay home.
We try hard to avoid moving both cars at once and if one of us leaves the other lines up behind and zips into the spot quickly so that no passing random grabs it.
The trickiest time is after work. There is a window of opportunity between 5 and 6 when the St. Kilda Road office workers head back to the ‘burbs, and the neighbours arrive home. I never get home before 6 and often have to park illegally. We then spend the evening competing for any spot that opens up. We have a slight advantage over most of our rivals. From our apartment we can see empty places out the window and can hear car doors slam and ignitions start. We react like Pavlov’s dogs: leaping to our feet, grabbing our keys, running down two flights of stairs and dashing across the road, often to be gazumped by a neighbour who lives on the lower floor. When this happens we act nonchalant and pretend we were just going out to collect something from our car so that we don’t look as foolish as we feel.
Some nights we are feeling quite satisfied with the spots we have until one of us makes the mistake of glancing out the window. A spot closer to home represents an irresistible Upgrade Opportunity and we are compelled to dash down again to secure it.
On the weekends the problem is different. The Blow-ins from Baysie arrive to enjoy some of St Kilda’s sophistication which, unfortunately, never seems to rub off on them. It’s maddening to lose a spot to a Bayswater bogan. I much prefer the classier visitors to the Indonesian embassy a couple of doors down. They are very sedate and always go home early and sober.
Then there’s the Grand Prix, the Million Paws Walk and the extraordinary intrusion of the Melbourne Marathon. Don’t get me started.

Limerick for a departing campus nurse

Oh, how we will miss our Nurse Trout!
She keeps us from growing too stout
She checks out the fannies
Of girls, mums and grannies
And tells them they’re all up the spout!

Pools

There are four swimming pools in my life: the ‘Fred’, the ‘Harry’, the ‘Jock’ and the ‘Albert’ each with its own unique ambience.

The daggy old Fred was originally called the Fred Dwerryhouse Swimming Pool but now has the far less interesting name, Ringwood Aquatic Centre. I swim here to avoid the peak-hour traffic on my long trip home. The Fred has truly bizarre showers - the water is on a timer and each cubicle is different. The most generous allows you a minute but the one I was in earlier this week gave me only 7 seconds.

Visiting the Harry, the ironically named Harold Holt Memorial Swim Centre (it turned out he couldn’t) is like taking a trip to Lourdes. There are lots of very elderly and infirm folk drifting along hoping for a miracle. The lanes aren’t labeled Fast, Medium and Slow but ‘Visible Signs of Life’, ‘Float Like a Lotus Blossom’ and ‘I’m Not Waving, I’m Drowning!’

The Jock is the pool at Melbourne High School and it’s for serious swimmers. You rarely have to share a lane here and can swim unimpeded. I occasionally get to swim beside budding young AFL players, usually from Richmond so I’m keeping a lookout for Ben Cousins. There are one or two things I’d like to say to him.

The Albert, aka Melbourne Sports and Aquatic Centre, in Albert Park, in an unpredictable place. Ordinary mortals are regularly excluded because of competitions or even if Leisel, Libby or Eamon feel like training that day. But if I do get in I’m treated to a cacophony of sound and light, waves, water slides, fountains, music, aerobics and sometimes the hilarious sight of synchronized swimmers practicing their routine on the side of the pool. If you think it looks funny in the water, wait ‘til you see them doing it on dry land. Great entertainment.