this is how i ended up in a spanish hospital a couple of weeks ago.
I was in Barcelona. I went to a club with a friend I met in Tokyo, the music was good (minimalist German Techno, apparently). I had just come from the beach, and was wearing flip flops.
the club was packed, everyone was smiling. I had a drink and a dance. I fell asleep somewhere for a bit. danced again. then wandered back to the dance floor and around the club a bit. by this time (about 4am, i think) the floor was thick with broken glass, i was trying to pick my way through it and up the stairs when i felt a sharp pain in my foot, and looked down to see it bleeding everywhere. someone came over and asked if I was ok, i think i must have looked a bit forlorn and just said 'no'. so he carried me down the stairs, blood dripping everywhere and took me to the entrance of the club. then some english girl came over and helped stop the bleeding. I was very convinced i should get my foor hgher than my heart and was trying to stick it up in the air. then i started to feel really giddy and puked everywhere. it was so very pretty. everyone was really calm and lovely about it. somebody made me a tourniquet out of the strap from my bag. and we tried to call my friend (pretty hopeless mission considering we were in a club). suddenly they were announcing that they had called me an ambulance. through the haze i remember thinking this was really unnecessary, but the whole thing seemed to be out of my hands. a kind girl in a headscarf took over from the other people, someone bought over a huge wad of cotton wool. my friend arrived. and then the ambulance did. i was very embarrassed that they'd called the ambulance, thinking the foot was really not serious. thought they would just patch it up in the ambulance. they did but then the ambulance started moving.so that's how i ended up in hospital racing around in a wheel chair (pretty good fun, actually). they tutted about me going to the discoteque in flipflops. put iodine on the cut. gave me a tetanus shot. my friend wheeled me down the corridors and we walked out of the hospital. the sun was rising and the sea was sparkling.
the next day I had to get my flight to Sardinia. I was on the metro on my way to the airport with all my bags gazing vacantly around me (still a bit weak from the lack of sleep and loss of blood) when I happened to look down at my bag. a hand was creeping into it, the way the hand moved was like an animal. it was a strange, fluid motion and made me feel sick. i couldn't speak. i slammed my hand down on my bag and looked up at the woman the hand belonged to. she looked away and withdrew her hand as if nothing had happened. I didn't know what to say. I don't speak Spanish, and I'd have hated to yell in English. I didn't think it would do any good, anyway. but there was an intense moment where we made eye contact, and she must have seen my shock and whatever it was.
I only had two euros anyway, so it wasn't exactly a very profitable enterprise for her.
I felt really unsettled after that, I'm not sure why considering that nothing was taken.
Other than the mishaps, I loved Barcelona. It was really good to catch up with my fellow higashi-funabashi inmates again. The city is really cool, I loved all the Gaudi stuff. I want to go back at some point, perhaps for more than 4 days, next time.
Also loved that the beer is really cheap and it's warm at night and all that...
Clearly I had some really insightful observations. My other one was that Spanish people seem to look cool in most clothes, even ones that would make English people look sort of dated.
OK, I just re-read that. Clearly it's time I wrote my own travel book. Hello Lonely Planet, you better watch out.
Seriously, LP should sort it out. They're such a great idea in theory, but in practice they're always a bit shoddy.
and that's all I have to say about that.
Saturday 30 June 2007
I'm back!!
I haven't posted anything for ages because there has been no wireless.
During this time I have been-
getting a tan
having lots of minor mishaps, mostly involving injuring my feet
experiencing something akin to torture by food in Italy
coming to terms with my hair
discovering my scary face/voice and using both to disappointingly limited effect in my teaching
drinking a lot of spumanti and peach juice
bragging
realising the power of facebook
addicted to coconut flavoured yoghurt
wearing blue mascara so much it's starting to seem like some kind of statement
having strange and epic dreams
being bitten a lot by fookin mosquitos
During this time I have been-
getting a tan
having lots of minor mishaps, mostly involving injuring my feet
experiencing something akin to torture by food in Italy
coming to terms with my hair
discovering my scary face/voice and using both to disappointingly limited effect in my teaching
drinking a lot of spumanti and peach juice
bragging
realising the power of facebook
addicted to coconut flavoured yoghurt
wearing blue mascara so much it's starting to seem like some kind of statement
having strange and epic dreams
being bitten a lot by fookin mosquitos
Monday 4 June 2007
Elastic Taboos
I went to an art exhibition yesterday. It was Korean art, the concept behind the exhibition was supposed to be how Korea went straight into the post-modern era without experiencing the modern era. I didn't really get that from it, kind of too high falutin' intellectual for me.
It was amazing though. When I first went to Korea I didn't know anything at all about the culture, and as I walked around this exhibition I realised just how much I'd experienced Korea on my own terms because of that. Although sometimes, I must admit, my ignorance just meant I didn't 'get' things like I might have.
But I was really touched by what I saw yesterday, I really got a sense of the country and was gripped by the desire to go back again. There was one painting in particular (I didn't note down the artist - sorry - just not that much of a culture vulture, yet...) which was very full on, it was about 10 metres long and represented Korea's history. It was very disturbing, a lot of it was very graphic and violent and it showed the way the country has been influenced by western culture, which was sobering for me because as an English teacher (spreading the good old English bug) I was undoubtedly a part of that. It really contextualised just how alien we were there, the background of suffering and invasion and how that might have caused some of the attitudes which coloured my more negative experiences of the country.
Or maybe I'm just talking out of my arse... a distinct possibility!
Anyway, outside the art gallery there was music, and outdoor cafes. They also have these seats, which are like blocks carved into a slanting U-shape, they're big enough for two people to sit in. There were a lot of people chilling out in these seats, even though it was raining a bit. There were also kids using them as assault courses, and a really cute couple in one who just made me go "ahhhhh....". Young love!
After the gallery I went and sat in a cafe (which I think has to be the best caf in Wien, it's called 'phil' and it's just off Theobaldgasse, in case you're interested). It's really cool, they have a DJ playing all the time, wireless internet and a consistently funky, interesting looking crowd. Plus, they do a really nice bowl of muesli, fruit and yoghurt for a couple of euros. I was particularly taken with an entrancing young lady who sat opposite me wearing bright red lipstick and a retro hat, she had something of the Scarlet Johanssen about her.
It was amazing though. When I first went to Korea I didn't know anything at all about the culture, and as I walked around this exhibition I realised just how much I'd experienced Korea on my own terms because of that. Although sometimes, I must admit, my ignorance just meant I didn't 'get' things like I might have.
But I was really touched by what I saw yesterday, I really got a sense of the country and was gripped by the desire to go back again. There was one painting in particular (I didn't note down the artist - sorry - just not that much of a culture vulture, yet...) which was very full on, it was about 10 metres long and represented Korea's history. It was very disturbing, a lot of it was very graphic and violent and it showed the way the country has been influenced by western culture, which was sobering for me because as an English teacher (spreading the good old English bug) I was undoubtedly a part of that. It really contextualised just how alien we were there, the background of suffering and invasion and how that might have caused some of the attitudes which coloured my more negative experiences of the country.
Or maybe I'm just talking out of my arse... a distinct possibility!
Anyway, outside the art gallery there was music, and outdoor cafes. They also have these seats, which are like blocks carved into a slanting U-shape, they're big enough for two people to sit in. There were a lot of people chilling out in these seats, even though it was raining a bit. There were also kids using them as assault courses, and a really cute couple in one who just made me go "ahhhhh....". Young love!
After the gallery I went and sat in a cafe (which I think has to be the best caf in Wien, it's called 'phil' and it's just off Theobaldgasse, in case you're interested). It's really cool, they have a DJ playing all the time, wireless internet and a consistently funky, interesting looking crowd. Plus, they do a really nice bowl of muesli, fruit and yoghurt for a couple of euros. I was particularly taken with an entrancing young lady who sat opposite me wearing bright red lipstick and a retro hat, she had something of the Scarlet Johanssen about her.
the scent of purple on a midnight hill...
Oh forgive me.
I'm getting a little poetic.
I also have more to say about being arty in Vienna. I found a really cool shop here, got chatting to the proprietor who was a very sweet smiley woman. She told me it's a concept shop, the entire stock changes every month or so. They feature fashion from all these different countries like Bulgaria and Poland by small independent designers. The clothes were amazing, really quirky and unusual, but a little too expensive for me, unfortunately. Not crazy expensive, probably in the region of 100 euros, but that is too much for an English teacher on a budget.
I saw this dress there in March but it was a sunday and the shop was closed. Alas! I think this would have been the dress to give me magical powers...if ever a dress would do such a thing.
In which the Lady finds Vienna just arty farty enough and becomes a potential culture vulture
This is the third time I've been to Vienna.
And I'm starting to love it more and more everytime I visit. It's funny how that seems to happen with cities. I was actually a bit nonplussed at first, I thought it was a bit grandiose and cold and I wasn't that bothered about the cakes.
But I have to say it has rather educated me. I went to the opera for the second time last night. I love opera. It's marvellous, and going to this big posh opera house in Vienna to see it is a real treat, even if you do spend all your time hunched up sitting on the floor (of which more later).
I already knew I loved opera, when 'O mio babino caro' (a really famous bit of a puccini opera) seemed to follow me around for a few months, I was hearing it everywhere I went which seemed very romantic to me.
Then I went in February, and queued up for standing room in the freezing cold for about 2 hours. When we (a teaching buddy and I) finally got in to the opera house we paid 2 euros and headed up to the gallery. When we got there, we found there wasn't even any standing room left (it was covered in scarves, you have to mark your place with a scarf when you arrive and then you can go and have some overpriced booze and pay 3 euros for a bit of bread and cheese until it starts). So we ended up sitting on the floor against the wall unable to see anything until the first interval. But even that was beautiful, I just sat on the floor, closed my eyes and soaked it up. Half way through I got a standing place, which is really good because you get a little screen with English subtitles. I love understanding what is going on. Opera, I discovered, is often very funny. It can also be really mundane, which is also really funny because it turns out they're discussing minor domestic stuff like "Your socks are in a box under the bed and I've left the key on the table. I'll be back at 5 to put the tea on...".
Last night's opera was Don Carlos. It's five hours long, so we left halfway through. I got a really good standing place, I could see everything which was wicked. But I still ended up squatting on the floor out of tiredness, and because the man in front of me had severe halitosis and every time he turned to say something to his wife I would get this gush of foul air. The guy behind me was sweet and offered me his posh looking tailored jacket to sit on so I wouldn't get my dress dirty. I was already sitting on the floor at this point and I am really beyond caring about making my clothes dirty, plus I would have felt guilty to have messed up his armani or whatever it was, so I turned him down.
And I'm starting to love it more and more everytime I visit. It's funny how that seems to happen with cities. I was actually a bit nonplussed at first, I thought it was a bit grandiose and cold and I wasn't that bothered about the cakes.
But I have to say it has rather educated me. I went to the opera for the second time last night. I love opera. It's marvellous, and going to this big posh opera house in Vienna to see it is a real treat, even if you do spend all your time hunched up sitting on the floor (of which more later).
I already knew I loved opera, when 'O mio babino caro' (a really famous bit of a puccini opera) seemed to follow me around for a few months, I was hearing it everywhere I went which seemed very romantic to me.
Then I went in February, and queued up for standing room in the freezing cold for about 2 hours. When we (a teaching buddy and I) finally got in to the opera house we paid 2 euros and headed up to the gallery. When we got there, we found there wasn't even any standing room left (it was covered in scarves, you have to mark your place with a scarf when you arrive and then you can go and have some overpriced booze and pay 3 euros for a bit of bread and cheese until it starts). So we ended up sitting on the floor against the wall unable to see anything until the first interval. But even that was beautiful, I just sat on the floor, closed my eyes and soaked it up. Half way through I got a standing place, which is really good because you get a little screen with English subtitles. I love understanding what is going on. Opera, I discovered, is often very funny. It can also be really mundane, which is also really funny because it turns out they're discussing minor domestic stuff like "Your socks are in a box under the bed and I've left the key on the table. I'll be back at 5 to put the tea on...".
Last night's opera was Don Carlos. It's five hours long, so we left halfway through. I got a really good standing place, I could see everything which was wicked. But I still ended up squatting on the floor out of tiredness, and because the man in front of me had severe halitosis and every time he turned to say something to his wife I would get this gush of foul air. The guy behind me was sweet and offered me his posh looking tailored jacket to sit on so I wouldn't get my dress dirty. I was already sitting on the floor at this point and I am really beyond caring about making my clothes dirty, plus I would have felt guilty to have messed up his armani or whatever it was, so I turned him down.
I don't have any pictures of the opera house so I'm just posting one of Vienna instead.
Greetings from Austria
Gruss Gott!!
That's like 'good day' or 'god bless' or something in German, in case you didn't know. For those of you who did know, I am well aware that I'm a patronising wench, and what can I say... I'm working on it!
I enjoy saying 'gruss gott' very much because to me it sounds like 'great scott!!' or 'gross gut' both of which are equally entertaining to me. So when I'm walking around the corridors at the school I'm working at I'm barking 'gruss gott' at people (mostly Austrian teaching staff) all over the place.
Of course, they love it. Actually that's a lie, they just look a bit bewildered. I suspect Austrians may not have an equivalent of the banal British 'Alright!'. So it just weirds them out to have this Englisher barking 'good day' at them and grinning, especially as most have no idea who I am.
That's like 'good day' or 'god bless' or something in German, in case you didn't know. For those of you who did know, I am well aware that I'm a patronising wench, and what can I say... I'm working on it!
I enjoy saying 'gruss gott' very much because to me it sounds like 'great scott!!' or 'gross gut' both of which are equally entertaining to me. So when I'm walking around the corridors at the school I'm working at I'm barking 'gruss gott' at people (mostly Austrian teaching staff) all over the place.
Of course, they love it. Actually that's a lie, they just look a bit bewildered. I suspect Austrians may not have an equivalent of the banal British 'Alright!'. So it just weirds them out to have this Englisher barking 'good day' at them and grinning, especially as most have no idea who I am.
Le Premiere..post
Hello ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys.
I am starting this blog mainly as a place to record my experiences while travelling. I'm slightly regretting that I didn't start it two years ago (when I started travelling, I've been on the road ever since then wouldya believe it...?) which was very remiss of me. I'm therefore going to use it to write about what's happening now but also to record memories of fantastical things which have happened before.
I have no idea of the other ways in which I might abuse it, I may even - god forbid - post some poetry on here. Or some stunning examples of my blurry, wonky photography. You lucky buggers.
yours delightfully,
Lady Arbuckle
I am starting this blog mainly as a place to record my experiences while travelling. I'm slightly regretting that I didn't start it two years ago (when I started travelling, I've been on the road ever since then wouldya believe it...?) which was very remiss of me. I'm therefore going to use it to write about what's happening now but also to record memories of fantastical things which have happened before.
I have no idea of the other ways in which I might abuse it, I may even - god forbid - post some poetry on here. Or some stunning examples of my blurry, wonky photography. You lucky buggers.
yours delightfully,
Lady Arbuckle
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