Munich, Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Dusseldorf, Amsterdam, North Shields

Flying is dull. Airports are hell. There's always another way to get home. And anyway, Europe isn't all that big. That might sound silly, but if you've ever travelled by land across any other continent, you'll know what I mean.

I got home from Salzburg via two trains, three buses, and a ferry. About a week in all, which gave me time for a modest bit of sightseeing. Stuttgart was the pleasant surprise along the way: by the standards of the cities I've visited in central and eastern Europe, it was fairly unremarkable, but by the standards of cities in provincial England, it was pretty much heaven on earth.

The final leg, Amsterdam to North Shields, was of course via the ferry route that many of you will already know well. Previously, my only ocean journeys had been channel crossings as a child, plus more recently short hops from Helsinki to Tallinn and from Buenos Aires to Montevideo. This was the first time I'd ever been out of sight of land. It was also the first time I'd ever seen my home town from the east, having previously inspected it from all other angles, including from above (on a clear day you get a good view when the plane is approaching Newcastle airport). 

Admittedly I had always imagined a more exotic ending to my first ever night at sea. Venice, perhaps, or the towers of Manhattan looming through the mist? Instead I got grey drizzle and a short walk uphill to the Metro station at Meadow Well. Back to reality with a splat.

Well, anyway, I'm home now but not for long. This is just the end of part one for my 2023 travels. Part two commences in a few weeks. Plenty more to squeeze in before Christmas. Stay tuned.

Rosengarten in Stuttgart
At the far north-east end of the Unterer Schlossgarten

Stuttgart central library
Very impressive, but I still prefer creaking doorways and dusty carpets.
And withered old library assistants, looking at you disapprovingly over the top of their glasses.

On the left: that's not the most encouraging graphic.
On the right: I don't think I want to know.

Frankfurt

Looking west across Frankfurt from the top of the cathedral, 66 metres up.
328 steps of narrow spiral staircase to get this photo.
Note the combination of old town (centre) and new town (top right).

Vintage furnishings at my very cheap Dusseldorf hotel.
Note how the clock radio panel has come away from its mounting.
I wonder if it was an RAF bomb that knocked it loose.

Edd vs Food #127
Falafel and sundries
At the Kebaphaus am Feuersee, Silberburgstraße 151, 70176 Stuttgart

Sun rising in the southeast, while the ferry heads northwest

Salzburg, Austria

Somehow this trip seems to have become my Austria trip, without me planning it that way. I've now spent more time in Austria than in any other foreign country apart from the USA and Spain. It's good when life goes in unexpected directions. 

Not always, though. The most unexpected thing that happened to me in Salzburg was that I got stung by a wasp, in the shower. The little bugger scored a direct hit on my left nipple. (At first I thought I'd snagged a chest hair in my sponge). It was sore for more than a day afterwards. I derived some small consolation from successfully revenge-drowning my assailant.

Salzburg is one of those ridiculously neat and tidy picture-postcard chocolate-box places. It looks like an advert for itself, and inevitably it seems to contain more visitors than locals. For me personally it was good to complete my little Mozart pilgrimage: in Vienna I saw the house where he died, and now here I've seen the house where he was born. Incidentally, just round the corner there is also the geburtshaus of Christian Doppler, after whom the Doppler effect is named. 

However both of these two eminent figures are completely overshadowed by the fact the "The Sound Of Music" was filmed here. See pictures below. I think it's literally forty years since I've seen that film, but perhaps I'll watch it again in an idle hour sometime soon and see how many places I can recognise.

Overall Salzburg is a nice place to look at, but now, having looked at it, I don't feel like I need to stick around. The main impression that lingers in my mind is the sight of the mountains looming in the distance, and I realise with a pang that I've never hiked in the Alps and it really is about time I did so. Another addition to my to-do list. Sometimes I think the list gets longer, not shorter, the more that I travel. I ought to do it more often.

Mirabell palace

The Von Trapp villa from "The Sound Of Music"
It's now a working care home, so this is as close as you can get.
People actually go online and give it bad reviews because of that.

The pavillion from "The Sound of Music", at the Hellbrunn palace.
I am forty-seven, going on forty-eight...

Hellbrunn palace

Hohensalzburg fortress, seen from the west

Untersberg mountain, seen from the Almkanal to the north.
The mountain summit is actually over the border in Germany.

Another view of the Mirabell palace

Edd vs Food #126
Colombian arepa (kind of like a maize tortilla)
At the Bistro de Marquez, Schrannengasse 6, 5020 Salzburg
Pulled beef, cheese, tomato, avocado, spicy sauce.
The photo doesn't really do it justice. Trust me, it was lush.

Graz, Austria

So anyway, Austria. It's like Germany, but different. Exactly how is it different? Like all ignorant Brits, I hadn't ever really thought about it. According to the Austrians themselves, they're much more relaxed and spontaneous and less rules-based than their disdained northern neighbour. It's all a bit chip-on-shoulder really, and you can have great fun winding up them up by 'accidentally' forgetting which country you're in. Or you can be really daring and enquire how long the resistance lasted in 1938 when Hitler marched in. (Answer: not a shot was fired.)

And as for all that alleged spontaneity and chilled-out-ness? Over the past month or so I have often reflected on this assertion while standing at a pedestrian crossing, with the road stretching clear to the horizon in both directions and no vehicles in sight, surrounded by Austrians standing stock-still and waiting patiently for the green man to appear...

Another part of the Austrian character is seen in its famously grumpy waiters, as mentioned in my last blog; especially the older male ones serving in the more traditional cafés, who seem to regard all customers as but a frustrating distraction from their life's mission of keeping all the tables clean (and empty). A curious little detail is that tips here are given rather than left: when the bill arrives, you tell them what you're tipping, and only then does money change hands. Eg they bring a bill for eight euros, you say nine, you give them ten, they return one. It has to happen in that order. You can't just wait for the change to arrive and then decide how much of it to keep.

A more positive observation about Austria is the high level of order and public trust that's on display everywhere. There are no ticket barriers in the public transport system. You just get on the bus, or the tram, or the underground train, and you ignore the driver. It's assumed that you've already paid for your ticket or pass. I've paid for all of mine, but I needn't have bothered, because I literally haven't encountered a single ticket inspection anywhere in Austria.

One more thing. A lot of the toilets are in the disagreeable American style, where the bowl has a flat raised pan above the waterline. The idea being that after completing your necessities, you stand and turn round to inspect the results before deciding whether or not to flush. I'm not a fan of this.

Graz is very much a university town: it has 8 (eight) of them, and the list of notable alumni is impressive indeed. On a less exalted note, it's also where Arnold Schwarzenegger is from. There isn't as much tourist accommodation available as in Vienna and so I find myself staying in a spare bedroom rather than an apartment, which isn't too much of a hardship. I have a balcony overlooking the garden. See picture below.

My landlord is an itinerant Brazilian trombonist. Interesting chap. His girlfriend is away travelling and I'm in her room. From the decor and general bric-a-brac, I can tell that she's an arty type, but I couldn't help also noticing a hardback edition of Nietzsche's complete works. Nietzsche! Anything by that syphilitic proto-fascist is always a red flag. When Bertie Wooster got involved with a Nietzsche-reading young lady, Jeeves moved rapidly to put a stick in the spokes of their budding relationship: "You would not enjoy Nietzsche, sir. He is fundamentally unsound." I thought about having a word with the trombonist to that effect, but it might have led to a bad AirBnB review, and we can't have that. Always thinking ahead to the next place.

Looking south down Herrengasse

View to the south-west from atop the Schlossberg

Looking up at the Schlossberg...from Schlossbergplatz

Murinsel
Artificial island in the river Mur

Auster Sport-und-Wellnessbad
Sports complex with both outdoor and indoor pools
Here, unlike at the Vienna riverside, one's budgie smugglers remain firmly in place.

Herz-Jesu-Kirche
(Church of the Sacred Heart of Jesus)

AirBnB house in Eggenberg
I have the two rooms visible at top left, plus the balcony.

Edd vs Food #125
I totally failed to take any food pictures while out & about in Graz.
So we're back to my amateurish home cooking, I'm afraid.
Four-egg omelette with ham & cheese & chorizo. I thought it turned out OK.

Vienna, Austria (again)

Sometimes I can be quite capricious about deciding whether or not I like a city. Sometimes all it takes is a sunny day, and a smile from a cute waitress, to convince me that I've found my home from home. On the other hand, grey drizzle and a bit of surly service can quickly see me heading for the departure lounge. Brno (see previous blog) was an example of the latter.

It's rained heavily at times in Vienna, and some of the waiters have been pretty grumpy - in fact they're famous for it. Google 'Vienna grumpy' if you doubt me. And yet I've damned near fallen in love with the place. Top five at least. I've been in and out of the city throughout August, located handily as it is between Czechia and Slovakia and Slovenia, and now I almost feel like a local. I'm comfortably familiar with the U-Bahn (underground train), which by the way is wonderful, one of those networks where there just always seems to be a train pulling in at the very moment you arrive on the platform. And a full week of metropolitan public transport, across U-Bahn and bus and tram, is only 17 euros. Very different to the overpriced, tumbleweed-strewn lottery of delay that we have back home in Tyne & Wear.

Also, in fairness, it hasn't rained all the time here. The summer heatwave has been out in force too. At such times the local tradition is to head out of the city centre and down to the Donauinsel, a large artificial island in the middle of the Danube, containing several clearly-signposted FKK beaches. FKK stands for Freikörperkultur, which means 'free body culture', ie nudism. These beaches swarm with tanned, leathery old Austrians, disporting themselves in nothing but flip-flops, soaking up the sunshine and cooling off in the Danube.

Not all of them are Austrians, of course. Occasionally they're joined by untanned, not-yet-leathery English backpackers. Now more than ever, dear readers, you'll be relieved that this blog is a resolutely selfie-free blog. You can scroll down in safety to my pictures below. But I do recommend the FKK experience. We all like to feel the sun on our skin, so why not feel it everywhere? One minor moral quandary is that there aren't many toilets to hand. We all pee in the shower; most of us would pee in the sea; none of us would pee in a swimming pool. Where do you draw the line in a river that's about 200m across? We must all answer to our individual consciences in this respect. So long as it's all nummer eins and not nummer zwei.

Looking south at the Wiental Kanal from the Stubenbrücke.
Kanal means canal, obviously. Brücke means bridge, a bit less obviously.

Cemetery in Ottakring, to the north-west of the city centre

Steinhofgründe park. Within easy reach of the city centre. 

Graffito # 1
I think this joke works better verbally.

Graffito #2
True fact. See also "traffic".

My Vienna digs. Comfy little studio apartment in Ottakring.
For what it's worth, this is cheaper than anything comparable in Sunderland.

Edd vs Food #123
Schakschuka, or 'shakshuka' if we're not speaking German.
At Cafe Wortner, Wiedner Hauptstraße 55, 1040 Vienna
One of the oldest coffee houses in town.
Poached eggs, spicy tomato sauce, feta cheese, avocado, flatbread.

Edd vs Food #124
Chicken kebab & chips at Bahn Kebap & Pizza, Favoritenstraße 74, 1040 Vienna
Everything on. Note how you get both mayo and ketchup separately.
Served in bread, it's a bit over-heavy. I've switched to wraps (dürüm) since this meal.

Brno, Czechia

It's pronounced "ber-know". Similarly, the old Slavic name for Berlin was Brlo, pronounced "ber-low", and there is a craft brewery of that name in Berlin.

Brno is like Prague, only a lot smaller and quieter. Similar buildings, fewer stag parties, same cheap beer. Staff in bars and hotels and restaurants mostly speak English, but for more complex needs it can be a bit of a struggle. In my case, I visited a launderette, and my tentative enquiry of 'English?' was met with a rather melodramatic toss of the head and a dismissive snort of 'No' from over the shoulder. What annoys me about these over-ostentatious knockbacks is that you suspect - scratch that, you just know - that when these people go on holiday to Turkey or Sweden, or Thailand or Japan, they'll use basic English rather than bothering with the local language. I can't prove it but I'm sure it's true. (I have a much clearer conscience about these things since I acquired a second language of my own.)

There isn't much to see here, and nothing much has happened, so I'll turn my attention to a subject which never runs dry: food. This week there are two Edd vs Foods for your gratification ('eddification'?). The first is a lovely Czech meal which looked really naff in my photo so I've included the official menu photo as well. The second is from a bistro called Kalifornan, an interesting new chain where they don't have a menu as such. Instead they have a selection of fresh food all laid out on the counter - hot & cold, spicy & mild, meat & veg, wet & dry, it all varies from day to day - and they fill up a generously-sized bowl as per your specification. I had lunch there on two consecutive days and loved it both times. I think we need to bring this to the UK.

Incidentally I've called it 'Czechia' above, but in road signs and elsewhere you still see it referred to as 'Czech Republic', and indeed it's still called that in various official and diplomatic contexts. I've done extensive research (Google & Wikipedia) and it does appear that the point of the change is nothing more than that 'Czechia' is easier to say and quicker to write, especially when it comes to sports teams and tourist guides. Or at least it will be one day, after the 30 to 40 years it takes everyone to remember it. 

One thing that came out of my in-depth Googling and Wikipediating - am I the only one who didn't realise that France isn't called France? It is, officially, 'The French Republic'. I'm fairly sure we all knew that 'America' is really the US of A, and that our own homeland, much-missed in my case, is formally the UK of GB and NI. You can find more scintillating surprises here. I'll shut up now. Less is more.

Freedom Square

Gloomy clouds behind Dietrichstein Palace, overlooking the Cabbage Market

Church of St Thomas
Note the long-legged horse in blocker boots at the bottom right of the church.
Formal title: Equestrian Statue of Margrave Jobst of Luxembourg

Villa Tugendhat
At first glance it looks like a moderately unpleasant piece of contemporary architecture.
It was in fact designed and built in 1929-30.

Znojmo
(small Czech town on the river Thaya, just over the border from Austria, on the way to Brno)

Edd vs Food #121
Svíčková at Stopkova Plzeňská Pivnice
Pot roasted beef in cream/vegetable sauce, served with bread dumplings & Carlsbad dumplings.
The whipped cream melts into the sauce and oh boy it's good eating.

Edd vs Food #122
Consecutive lunches at Kalifornan (see blog above)
Left: beef, rice, sweet potatoes, spicy creme fraiche, etc.
Right: chicken, couscous, spicy green beans, hummus, nachos, buffalo mayo, etc.