modern art: 1, Ian: 0.

Salzburg has been an interesting experience, like the chance to learn how to type on a German keyboard, the chance to see rayband-sporting Mozarts (yes, plural) rocking out in town square, or the chance to drink in a giant church devoted to by-the-litre beer consumption.

We#re staying at the super-keen all natural good times family funhouse and youth hostel (jugend and familiengasteshause!). They show the sound of music everynight at 8, but what gets me every time is that each of these viewing is packed. The place feels like an all-ages summer camp, a sort of depressing wholesomeness powered by rootbeer and pizza parties.

Salzburg is gorgeous, all medieval architecture and what 'ave you. I've toured castles, looked at old things and generally have been impressed all around. I'm in the midst of the Salzburg music festival, its a Mozart orgy!

Speaking of (best segue ever), I decided to tour the Salzburg gallery of modern art. I've been reading some mad The Fountainhead, andf the exhibit as devoted to the influence of art on architecture (stage design). It was great, I toured, learned, dropped words like "cubism" to impress people, stroked my chin and looked just disinterested enough to appear confident. Then I came to the final room. All of the others had been oh so quiet, oh so modern. Still places I felt I had mastered. Then I opened the door, I entered a space that#s hard to describe...european? Austrian? High-octane-facehammer-chocolatebunny-hitler fighting an ostrich-furiousMozart-meatexplosion-rotating-chamber of perverse and immoral leprechauns?

Well played modern art, well played...

Tomorrow I fly Ryan air to London, then one more day in London before I head to Gatwick at 6 for my flight at 10. Following some keen time-travel, home at around noon-something.

Time to veroffentlichen this post, see you soon.

Ian

Taste the Vlatava!

Made it to Ceske Krumlov safe and sound. The town is astonishing. Hell, its adorable, all tiny castles and windy streets. We toured the castle a bit, but decided to rent a boat, and spent the afternoon rafting down the Vlatava rive which encircles the town and then head into the country side. Tomorrow we leave for Salzburg. I'm pressed for time, so all the best. I have to stop checking my inbox, its making me anxious, but you cant do revisions on the Vlatava.

"The truth will set you free"

When I sat down at the computer, the menu suggested the above as a header. Who am I to argue with the legacy of Jan Hus?

Prague continues to astonish. I'm going to miss the winding cobble-stone streets and radio that flits between Czech pop and the hits of Toto (the hit of Toto?). I spent today finding secreted coffee shops, drinking coffee, and practicing my eight new brooding-poses (one of them was invented by Franz Kafka - EXTRA BROODY-POINTS!). One more full day left in Praha, and then I follow Cam-Ron's posse to Cesky Krumlov. Unfortunately we won't have much time there (two nights) as we will catch an early train to Salzburg. Yeah...I know. This is the first time I've ever written the word "Salzburg", but now I'm going there...to Salzburg, Salzburg (just practicing). The magic of european airways makes Salzburg my best bet for getting into London (leaving Salzburg on the 29th at 9 pm), plus its all laden with peppy Austrians and Salzburgian charm (Seven different "The Sound of Music tours"? Swoon!).

I confess to having done no background research into Salzburg, so any Salzburg or Sound of Music related jokes to test on the locals would be appreciated (all I remember is the song about goats who yodel, and that can only carry you so far in life).

Eight more days and I'll be in London...then I geuss I'll be seeing you all pretty soon, but first, yodeling goat jokes!

Jig easy,

Ian.

Pittura

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Some of these need rotating...but all mz rotation menus are in Czech, so use your imagination. I§ve included a picture from the bone church, cause it was creep-tastic! Right, time to meet Cam. Peace.

Ian.

Praha

Italian tourists. I live in a perpetual cloud of italian tourists. Not the soft-spoken, friendly kind that I roomed with, but the loud, immaculately dressed, pushy kind that mysteriously light a cigarette in front of you every time you inhale. I know, I'm a tourist too, I'm sure I'm performing a number of really irritating Canadian things (like perpetually thanking people, they don't do that here), but why are they so loud and critical of my clothing?

Still, nothing could ruin Prague. This is a phenomenal city with an amazing history. So far I've spent my days touring the city (extra-touristy style), I won't get into the monuments and history because there's too much to talk about (plus you all have mad google skillz-Czech out the Zhukov TV tower. A communist monument hated by the people and decorated with creepy metal infant things silent-hill style). Old town Prague has just the right amount of broody atmosphere to balance an area lined with curious shops and fed by cheap beer (70 cent pints). The newer areas of Prague, where the tourists don't go, have a different atmosphere (Darker, more grafitti, way poorer, but still many interseting neighbourhoods). This is a town that spent years building a gigantic monument to Stalin, only to blow it up and replace it with the Worlds Largest metronome. You catch yourself going "is that a metronome, a big firccking metronome?" Yes my friend, it is.

I'd love to post some pictures (especially of the metronome) but all of the computers are tamper-proof. I'd need compter hacking skills or a Macgyver-esqe ability to fashion a USB port out of beer bottles and duct tape.

I've noticexd that whenever I say Canada, people either say "Vancouver?" or "Degrassi!" (demonstrating what amounts in my mind to two distinct levels of familiarity with Canadiana). It's amazing really, last night I found myself in a catacomb like bar (normal on the top, but 5 basement levels that each look like caves) being asked by a Scotsman whether I thought the new series lived up to the old one (Uh, No.). I'll have Canadian back up soon, as I meet up with Cam in a couple of days. Then probably off to Cesky Krumlov and the maybe Vienna.

Hope things are well back home, thanks for all of your comments. Did anyone notice that the second I started talking about giving metaphors the finger my Grandma posted (love you Grandma!). Oh interweb...

Mental note - when I get back I have to tell the story about fighting the drunken Chelsea fan who thought I looked like Dominique Monaghan.

Praha

Made it to Prague! 1 Hargreaves + 1 phenomenally lovely backpack ensemble. Had to arrive at the airport and queue for two hours before I could join the queue, and I think I'll write easy jet advising them on training their staff to show a little more calm during medical emergencies (the stewardess was holding both sides of her face stammering "Oh my god, oh my god" - a lady passed out duringlanding) but the Gatwick experience was pretty painless, and the mandatory patdown was pretty racy for england.

Prague is lovely. Time to explore.

Emphatic gestures and onomatopoeia.

I'm feeling pretty good, karmically I mean. I gave four separate buskers mad coinage (extra-mad coinage for the much appreciated slide guitar), which should put me in the black enough to hesitantly suggest that I might be getting over my cold. By tomorrow, I will have busted out the giant middle finger to this illness of mine (imagine Dave Grohls hand in the "Everlong" video, but in FINGER FORM!) sending it rocketing into the hills like a foot-clan ninja just hit buy the Turtle-van.

Whether my Karma extend to airport queues is another question. Tomorrow I leave for Gatwick airport, intending to arrive almost 3 hours before the two hours before I'm suppossed to arrive (were I not in a nation under the "siege of terror" - stole that from a paper I did). My intent is to make my 11:35 easyjet flight to Prague (pronounced Praha). So far (since Yesterday) easyjet has actually been flying its flights (so good!)...so fingers crossed. In the worst case, I may be spending an extra few days in England, or perhaps shelling out big bucks for a trainride. If it's the former, I'm going to give the selfsame emphatic finger to London, and head to place worth loving, Brighton. Me and London. We had a thing sure. There were moments when we couldn't get enough of each other. But the glamour wore off, and now London sees me for the science-loving, adjective abusing, squirrely ninja-referencing fool that I am. Nothing to mourn, we are just looking for different things right now.

Brighton...I'm a bit of a fan of Brighton. Its a town that radiates cool (and creepy, but only in the one creepy sector which isn't bad). Sipping beer looking out over the ocean, bikini beach volley ball tournaments and the coolest shops I have ever encountered (in droves). I think it would be an amazing place to spend a weekend.

Saw a Fulham football match the other day. It was exciting (even though it was just a friendly game). Unfortunately, while Fulham did win the Premiership (in days past) they were unpredictable yesterday. For the spectator, this meant that there were some truly brilliant football moments, the perfectly placed long cross, off the mits, neatly tucked in by the offense, but there were far more crummy moments. Inconsistency doesn't work for Fulham.

Right, last night in London, I'm all packed, I've literally set up my things so I'll injure myself on things before forgetting them...time for a beer.

I had a wonderful epiphany...no, not an epihphany, but a moment of hazy to off-hazy insight that I'll save for Prague. In any case, my best to Calgary, I'm not used to being out of the basment this long, maybe I can write some practice abstracts for magazine articles in the departure lounge.

Hoping I get to Prague yes?