paralyzedbynotcaring

Rain rain go to Spain

Despite cooling temperatures and the ever-present nagging of anxiety about my ATM replacement card, which did not arrive today, I was able to take a fairly productive walk in my neighborhood in Prague. I came across this church, the Church of St. Ludmila.

Here is an artistic side view of the church.

Here is a building nearby that I suspect is a theater or opera house.

After all that walking, which included a series of endless stairs (Prague is not flat like Amsterdam), I deserved a nice salad.

But they brought out these pork ribs and what’s a girl to do.

I reading Lonely Planet’s guide to Prague and am still reading Daisy Miller.

“Fortune does favor the bold and you’ll never know what you’re capable of if you don’t try.” ~ Sheryl Sandberg

Travel day

Another day another country. Taxi to train to metro to tram to walking in the rain to not being able to discern a few characters on the hand-written wifi information card.

Oh, and guns.

This is a picture of two well-armed German policemen checking documents at the Dresden main train station. Someone with a bigger camera is taking a film of it between me and the interaction. I have to say that the police in Europe carry far larger weaponry than police on the beat in CA. The police guns here have to be held with both hands.

The sightseeing tour bus in Prague has some pretty scathing reviews on TripAdvisor so now I really can’t wait to check it out.

Czech out this body of water I saw from the train.

Now observe how scientifically I failed at reading numbers and letters.

I couldn’t figure out what the wifi code was. That’s right, my conclusion was “?”

For those of you who don’t know, my dad is planning on meeting me at the end of July or beginning of August in Copenhagen. He does not have the internet, so all of my logistical questions are being funneled through lil bro, who has to call dad on a LAND LINE and ask. I am not sure why this isn’t the system everywhere because there have been no misunderstandings and we all love each other VERY MUCH.

I am reading Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg and Daisy Miller and Other Whatevers by Henry James.

“Hang ‘abroad’! Stay at home and do things here.” ~Henry James

Everything Was Beautiful, and Nothing Hurt

After I was bailed out of debtor’s prison, I made a Billy Pilgrimage in the rain to find where Kurt Vonnegut was imprisoned during the bombing of Dresden.

It rained quite a lot and I used both an umbrella and a stunningly flattering plastic poncho. I had only vague directions to the location as the tour guide was on vacation this week and blogs about finding the location were not encouraging. Along the way I found an old friend.

Ahoy. I avoided puddles and cross referenced cross streets for a total of almost 6 miles, all the time thinking that if Billy Pilgrim could survive being navigated through space and time, I could tolerate a bit of rain.

After many dead ends and incorrect assumptions, I found the building complex where the Slaughterhouses used to operate. You can tell because the last remnant of the meat industry is in the parking lot–a small statue of a cow.

The complex as a whole looks like this.

According to some blogs, there is a small sign commemorating Kurt Vonnegut somewhere on the street, but I never found it. There is also supposed to be a room dedicated to him and Slaughterhouse-5, or The Children’s Crusade: A Duty Dance with Death, which I was also on the hunt for.

I approached the gate with the same rain soaked shuffle that has become my summer stroll in Europe, passed by the security kiosk, and began looking in windows like a proper trespasser. Germany has done very little–nothing, really-to encourage tourists or any member of the literati to visit this site. In fact, I was told to leave. Yes, as KV and PB were forced to stay, I was forced to leave. Luckily I have an uncomfortably convincing dumb blonde expression and this, as it has may times, allowed me to do what I wanted. I found the door to the slaughterhouse.

It looks upsettingly similar to the door I took a picture of in Amsterdam, though this time I could stomach a selfie.

Yes, when I found the door, the rain cleared and the sun shone on it and the security guard permitted pictures despite my wet hair and soggy feet. I wanted to stay and try to find the room with all the historical information and KV’s quotes, but Germans are not overly welcoming and German security guards mean business.

So it goes.

God and art and banks and tears

Today I went to the gallery in Zwinger, which is three stories of paintings and sculptures. I was unsure if pictures were allowed, so I had to take the obligatory snap of the best painting of Jesus on the DL.

This is baby Jesus accepting a pimp cup from the Magi. Magi know how to get down.

There are lots of other pieces of art I liked. One in particular was painted with very dark colors and impossible to take a pic of, but it was of Beatrice hiding and listening to Hero and Ursula “talk.” It was refreshing to see a) a story I knew well depicted and b) not Greek or Christian.

This portrait of Our Lady of Decadence also caught my eye–Marie Antoinette of course.

Notice how the painter included me in the background–so modern! Let’s not forget that she charmed European countries into helping us bloody colonialists fight the British. Respect the cake.

This museum is known for this work by Rafael. Does it seem familiar?

Does it?

I’ll let you think about that while I go to dinner and have dumplings.

German food is delightfully salty and filling. I also enjoyed the decor.

Unfortunately when I ordered NOT mineral water, I got SPARKLING mineral water, which is doubly bad. It tastes like medicine for the disease of life. I drank it anyway because while I was in the museum, I left my pack at the coat check and someone went in there and loosened the water bottle cap and let it leak all over my everything and so I had no water. Soggy train tickets are stuck to my umbrella now.

After this glorious meal I visited the Church of our Lady. It is quite a building. Here it is with Martin Luther and another one of his damn books. I decided to climb to the top of the dome (only 8 Euros!)

It’s not as tall as the tower in Bruges, right? I’ll be fine, right?

I start out and it’s going pretty good. Look how new and reasonable these stairs are.

Ok go a little farther, and it gets a bit narrower. No big deal.

Now ascend the ramp around the perimeter of the dome. It’s only a 60 degree angle what’s you problem why are you panting and sweating and crying?

You better woman up because now there is a ladder.

Ladders don’t take any shit, believe me. And you’ve got to be close, right?

Yes, just a few of these ellipses and

Don’t look down and

Boom! This view of Dresden–

And this view of the inner dome.

And of the teeny tiny people attending the services below.

The view from the top is pretty spectacular, and no one else was up there so I got to enjoy it without photobombing some other tourist’s panorama.

Across from the church and down a bit is the Opera, with that statue of a horse and a man I’ve posted before.

Nearby is the Hilton, which has an ATM in its lobby. I went to make a withdraw but was denied–this was particularly irritating because yesterday I had the same problem and called my bank and was told the hold was lifted. Also, I am lower on cash today than I was even yesterday when I had a super fun panic attack. Another call to the bank (3 actually, because my international phone kept dropping the call) revealed a significant amount had been drained from my account, and I had to do an unemotional reckoning for all my transactions for the last week. It was not fun and someone in Berlin has a lot of my money. A. Lot. Let’s delay the rage about how this person could access my money but I could not, and the righteous indignation about how this person will likely never be caught. Just keep that smoldering in your pocket for now and deal with the logistical issues–how do I get cash? Many places here are cash only, notably the taxis and buses, which I will need to travel into Prague in two days. My bank has no international relations, so I am totally on my own until a new ATM card is delivered to my airbnb in Prague. I did make the bank lady cry, so at least I have that.

This post is dedicated to RS for coming through with a wire and remaining cool as I turned into a ragecake.

This picture is for her.

Time to call Dr. A!

Water that’s gone a bit off

Today I wanted to hike to the Church of Our Lady which is one of those ancient romantic buildings Dresden is known for. On my way I stopped at an ATM to make a w/d but my card was declined. It was declined again at the four subsequent ATMs. Instead of being rational and postponing panic until I’ve called the bank, I start sweating and breathing like I’m in a marathon (though an argument could be made…). I sit at a cafe and order a water.

They bring me this abortion.

… Mineral water? Are they trying to kill me? Mineral water is especially evil because at first it seems like everything is okay in your life. You’re sitting in a nice cafe in a beautiful city in an ancient country. You’ve had some financial issues but it’s ok you have some emergency cash. It’s hot as Hades but look, you have this

this

… what is this. I didn’t know water could go bad. Oh, it’s mineral water. It’s water with minerals. Basically it’s mud. Served in a wine glass. Who are these people. Where am I. What am I doing with my life.

Walking around ad looking around: Dresden

On Sundays things close early despite the fact that everyone knows that I sleep in on Sundays and every other day I can sleep in. So the store was closed and probably the museum so I didn’t even bother. Instead I went to the Großer Garten and found a restaurant.

Luckily I was early enough that the soccer crowd had not yet assembled fully (France and Portugal, I think?) and I was easily able to point to something on the menu. Then this arrived.

Meat, potatoes, salad, like God intended. Then, more strudel.

This strudel came with watermelon slices, which were a happy surprise.

I exited the biergarten before soccer started in earnest and walked through the adjacent park.

The sun is out, people are roller blading like it’s the 90s, and when I think the park is perfect, I come to the front of this craziness.

No big deal just sitting here in the middle of a huge public park. That’s my shadow to prove I’m artistic.

I have no idea what this place is. There is no fence around it. Someone could live there for all I know, though I doubt it. I was going to check it out more closely but look how far away it was. And it’s Sunday so you know whatever it is is closed anyway.

I hate to break it to you but literally all I did today was walk around, eat, walk around more, and come back to my room. I liked this walk particularly because there were benches in the park. The world needs more benches.

Before you go thinking all is well, observe:

You can’t really see, but the Captain is saying “Story 3000.” I don’t know what this means but I’m afraid the DEMON has taken a new shape. Stay vigilant, my friends. Stay vigilant.

I am reading Daisy Miller and Other Stories by Henry James and Surely You’re Joking Mr Feyman by Richard Feyman.

I’m drunk here’s some pictures

Today I walked a bunch of miles in the wrong direction and finally asked a human how to get to the theaterplaz. She spoke hurried German, pulled a cheese cutter from her purse (I swear), grabbed my arm, and then pushed me into the street.

It gets weirder.

I later realized that the bus stop I wanted is nicknamed “the cheese” which semi explains the cheese cutter, but how was it in her purse? Really?

Just now I’ve come back from the Italian restaurant down the block and they have martinis there that come garnished with a tiny orange tomato every time. Consequently here is a picture-heavy blog post.

First here is the crown on top of the zwinger.

Here is a fountain and a head.

Happy to be on the bus tour.

Here is a somewhat elaborate timepiece.

Here is a two-horse power contraption that our bus was trapped behind.

Technology prevailed.

But they like horses here.

I think this is a guy with a 1st gen ipad and the tiger from the Hangover.

And Jack Skellington asking What’s THIS?

Here’s just a regular house no big deal.

And I didn’t see the DEMON but I did find this hood rat.

I broke two nails trying to unlock my airbnb door so here I go to lie down before more tragedy.

Inter-German travel

You may recall I mentioned that my train ride from Berlin to Dresden would be short and not have any transfers. These are both true, but it also managed to be the most uncomfortable train ride so far.

I know, I can barely believe it myself. It ended in tears before it even began–err it began in tears. It doesn’t matter–it made an old lady cry (not me).

At Berlin HBF (main train station) I stood around the departure board for an hour waiting for my train to display which track it will be departing from (no benches). It wasn’t listed until about 25 minutes before departure. This is not convenient for me for so many reasons, no the least of which is my get-there-early neuroses. Another of which is that this station is four stories and full of stores. It’s basically a mall with trains. So you could be three stories away from where your train is going to depart and have only 25 minutes to fight the crowd, lug your suitcases, figure out where the track is, and get there. If this seems like plenty of time, you’ve never seen my walking pace.

When the train finally displayed I had that familiar problem that my ticket had only MY destination, not the train’s destination, so I had to do some cross referencing and no-internet research (aka talking to people). Don’t forget to schedule that into your 25 minutes. After I’d been waiting at the platform (standing, no benches, can I just complain about how there are so few benches at a train station? Don’t people get there with bags and crap and then have to wait? How are there not enough benches? People were sitting on the floor. It was not ok. Put in some benches, good grief) and an echoed German PA reverberated across the tracks. Some people in my crowd started shuffling away. An English translation followed: the platform for my train had changed. Time to move again! Yay!

The train was late and people were clamoring to get on. I had an assigned seat on car 259. I wish the cars on the train were more numerically sound (idk, maybe #1-12?), because 259 wasn’t that easy to find and I didn’t have a lot of time or space to look. The crowd was bottle-necked between the train and the staircase and everyone was sweating like this was some other German train. I had to run down the platform after breaking away from the crowd and push my way on to the train before the doors closed. Everyone else did the same. No one was on the right car. The narrow aisles within the train were jam packed with people trying to pass each other with all their gear when the train started to move. The lady behind me, old enough to be my grandmother, had a tissue over her face. She was shocked the train would leave before she could sit down. I was pretty indignant at the lack of organization myself, but now I am far too jaded to be shocked. I looked at her ticket and discovered we were heading in the same direction, so I told her she could follow in my wake of destruction. She didn’t laugh so she must be German.

When I finally pushed and ducked and jumped my way to my seat, people in the area near me were complaining that more tickets than seats were sold, so that is why the aisles were crowded with lingerers like on a rush hour subway commute, except with luggage. Germany totally wins for most disorganized country. It took me about 40 minutes to push my way to my seat, so the 2 hour ride passed pretty quickly once I was sitting with my luggage in my lap (there was no room on the racks and the aisles were already full of people).

I did manage to bail off the train in Dresden (no easy feat with the aisles still full) and found not only sunshine but a delightful lack of crowds. It is even less crowded in my airbnb where I have been recovering my nerves.

I miss having a car.

The wall

Today I went back to examine the remains of the Berlin Wall. It’s not in good shape. It’s falling apart.

Parallel to the wall is a walkway with a timeline describing pivotal social and political happenings in Germany in the 30s and 40s. It wasn’t a load of laughs. Nearby is Checkpoint Charlie, which looks like the entrance fee kiosk of a lesser state park, except with more tourists. On the building overlooking the checkpoint was this love note to Vladimir P.

I also visited the East Side Gallery, a part of the wall decorated by artist. Unfortunately a lot of the art was defaced by graffiti, so most of the gallery had a chain link fence around it, ruining the effect of the different artwork.

Much of Berlin is covered similarly with stickers and graffiti.

I took several more shots of the East Side Gallery and a few of the checkpoint, but my wifi in this airbnb is weak and my high tech way of getting pictures from my phone to my computer–emailing them to myself–is not cutting it.

Berlin has been the most modern city I’ve visited but also the city most impacted by history. One particular message spray painted on a hotel wall read “The past is OVER.” Clearly people are not over it.

Tomorrow I travel to Dresden, which is a short (no layover) train ride away. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it an “easy” day–let’s not get ahead of ourselves–but I won’t have to switch trains, and that is a welcome change.

Germany doesn’t seem to celebrate the 4th of July

Which meant everything was open as usual. I continued with my bus tour (I’d purchased a 2-day pass) and it wasn’t so bad today–not because the stops were predictable or announced, but because by now these irritants were familiar. I love familiar things.

As promised I went to Museum Island. Now, erase the image of a round island with beaches sloping up towards a ring of five museums. “Island” is a technicality; these city blocks are bordered by a river and a few canals. And, after having seen the Mississippi River, the Spree is really just a large canal.

Once on this island, I decided to visit the Deutsche Museum.

I think this is a picture of the outside of the museum. I took a lot of pictures of a lot of old style buildings today and they start to look similar. Sometimes I wish the tour guide would say, and look, a totally modern and unremarkable building! I’d take a picture of that.

Germany’s history is really just European history, so I saw many elements similar to pieces in Dutch and Belgian museums; however, there were deffo more weapons here.

I got to touch a chain mail tunic and it was certainly not mithril. It was heavy AF and all the inter looping chain pieces pinched my arm hairs. Being a knight was no joke.

Probably my favorite exhibit was the old books section. This is one of the bibles that Martin Luther translated into the common tongue. That guy was super cool.

I can’t read it but it was open to a page with a picture so it was like Jesus was speaking right to me.

My favorite of my favorites was this religious liturgy book.

Isn’t it so so pretty? What aren’t books like this anymore? It’s got to be cheaper to manufacture them now than it was THEN. Come on people. No wonder reading is on the decline.

A painting that caught my attention was this portrait of Marie Antoinette’s mom.

She was on fire her whole life, too, it seems, being in charge of all sorts of stuff and things and then trying to give advice to Marie A and her NINE other children. Can you imagine? All while dressed like this? What a multi tasker. What an inspiration.

A German museum wouldn’t be complete without a huge statue of Victory.

I did a slight google and learned that the large, golden Victory statue I posted yesterday was in reference to a war with Prussia. It’s easy for me to forget that there were loads of wars and country reorganizations before that fateful day in 1776 exactly 240 years ago TODAY.

There were more modern pieces of pop art in this museum, too, but things get a little dicy when recording 20th century Germany and I opted to skip it and head for the Brandenburg Gate, which is the gate to Berlin.

It is closed.

I am trapped.

Well they’ve walled off this gate. I stood there in its shadow but all I could think is that the statues of the four horsemen reminded me of Angel season 5. The structure is impressive though the effect was diminished by the restricted area. I am not sure but this might be due to SOCCER. That sounds right. I’m going with that.

I tracked down the bus, but unfortunately it was the last bus of the day, so I didn’t stop at the wall. I did take a picture from the bus.

That’s the wall in the middle of the frame. It is fenced off so you can’t walk along it, but you can drive just along it outside that fence. On the right side of the fence is a memorial. Down on the other side of what remains of the wall is Checkpoint Charlie. I did not get to investigate this area yet, but I did see an American flag and that made me feel better about being abroad on the 4th.

Here is a statue called “Berlin.” The locals call it the Dancing Noodles, but it is (I think) supposed to be broken chains/liberty/freedom/etc.

Never mind, it’s spaghetti.

The tour guide went on and on about this new(ish) government building. I am not sure if it is the parliament or just another parliament-ish place, but the glass dome on top allows anyone to peer down into the offices of the government officials. The symbolism here being that the common folks are above the government, not the other way around, and that government work is transparent. The guide did end by saying this is purely symbolic because he’s never been able to tell if people down there are working or just playing on their computers.

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This is a pretty cool building what with all that symbolism (I’m a sucker for that) but my favorite building so far has been this one.

To the right is the TV tower. This gorgeous grey and green giant is the Berlin Cathedral.

I am still reading Catherine the Great. I caught a painting of her in the museum and I recognized her by her eyeballs and jewels. Both are stunning.

Author: paralyzedbynotcaring