The flash car outside the pizza shop was attracting a lot of attention tonight.
While I was inside waiting for my Chicken Calzone, there was a steady stream of people stopping for a closer look at the Silver Rolls with the personalized number-plate, “Rolln”.
I feel no shame in giving the number plate, by the way, as I figure the combination of flash car and personalized plate means you just want to be noticed.
Meanwhile I was sitting inside wearing my tracky-dacks because it was a tracky-dacks kind of day for me.
After a few drinks last night and an online chat with Sue, I hit the sack and slept most of the morning. Even though I woke and watched a little of The Simpsons, I went back to sleep for a while, eventually waking up just before lunch.
Today, frankly, I didn’t do much at all. “It was time for a rest”, I felt my body telling me.
I had a work-related matter to attend to this afternoon, but that was reasonably straightforward, so for most of the day I’ve been listening to music and watching downloaded television programs.
There were some current seasons episodes of “The Simpsons” – which were okay, not memorable – as well as a new HBO series about a male school teacher going through a mid-life crisis who becomes a male prostitute which is quite good.
The moment of greatest sadness, though, was that suddenly I’m no longer able to download Swedish TV’s nightly news program because they’ve detected my au i.p. address. I did, however, discover SVT Play which offers a variety of Swedish programs for online viewing, a bit like the ABC’s iview.
One of the things Sue is finding a little “confronting” about staying in “ordinary homes” in Europe is the “open curtain policy”. By that, I mean, the tendency for people to leave their curtains open at night, so pretty much everything in their houses is visible to you, and vice versa.
I noticed this first a couple of weeks ago staying in Stockholm. As I sat in my lounge-room at night and watched television, I could look across the street and see everyone else was doing pretty much the same. It was if we were in one big house together, separated by only a few metres. Memorably, one night I watched a bloke cook dinner wearing only his underwear. I tried not to let my eyes linger for too long.
I read somewhere it was common in The Netherlands, as a hang-over from the German occupation during the Second World War. They kept their blinds and curtains open so people could both see what was occuring outside and inside. I can imagine there might have been a similar reason in Denmark, though the rationale makes no sense for Sweden which remained neutral during WW2. Maybe there’s another reason? Maybe it’s just because they have a more “open” society than we do in Australia? Maybe it’s because people have lived together more closely for a longer period of time? Maybe we’re just not that accustomed to the intimacy of apartment living in Australia yet?
Backyard View – Stockholm
We noticed this “open curtain policy” again last night as we checked in to our apartment in Stockholm. This time we’re staying at an apartment in a suburb called Enskededalen, to the south of Stockholm. It’s a reasonably quiet neighbourhood (so far), perhaps due to our proximity to the beautiful woodland cemetery? As we arrived last night, I noticed the birds in the trees were having a wonderful time, keeping us entertained with their beautiful songs. It’s that kind of neighbourhood. Leafy. Green.
The apartment is in a largeish security block of maybe 60 apartments or so. We have a balcony which overlooks the backyards (and loungerooms) of nearby houses. Inside, each apartment has its own little internal balcony, and overlooks a large central area with plants and trees. In some ways, it feels like we’re staying in a large hotel, though much more intimate as it’s actually someone’s apartment.
Apartment Garden
The apartment is about ten minutes from T-Centralen on the Farsta line, and then only about a three or four minute walk from the T-bana. So it should provide a good central basis for the next couple of weeks. Sue is here until just after Easter, and I’m here for a few days longer, before heading off to Reykjavik.
Even though we’ve had a couple of days travelling by train now, the travel hasn’t been overly stressful. Sure, we almost missed our train yesterday, as we didn’t fully understand the signs at Copenhagen Central. But otherwise, Sue’s been reading books and I’ve been listening to podcasts.
I’ve woken early on this Tuesday morning (up at about 0500), and as I look out my window the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and I’m happy to be back in Stockholm.
The limited edition (10) artwork by Blak Douglas (the 2022 Archibald Prize winner) sold out quickly. Fortunately, my friend Andrea managed to secure one—a fridge magnet to complement a poster she already owned.
Personally, I acquired three magnets. However, one is earmarked for my friend Kate, currently in Victoria and unable to attend the exhibition. I selected a Mambo-themed magnet for her, given her sister’s past association with the brand. For the most part, they all cost $50, though the larger ones sold for $95, and they all came with a certificate of authenticity. Great stuff Damien.
You might recall I recently bought one of the new eeepc’s – 1008ha seashell – which means I can now surf the web (and blog) from my bed.
Well tonight I bought some more technology: a digital radio specifically for my bedroom.
I’ve been holding off on buying a digital radio, believing all of those on the market so far have been over-priced. With an entry level price of around $129, and most priced in the $200-300 range, I’ve been holding off on making a purchase. It’s my personal view, they’ve been unnecessarilly overpriced. I mean, how much do the chips inside actually cost?
I’ve been holding off on a proper purchase for the lounge-room. And I’ve been looking at a nice radio tuner (which combines a wifi service) in the price range of about $500 which would integrate nicely with my home hi-fi. For my purposes, the wifi integration and home hifi is pretty important.
So I’ve been holding off on buying something cheaper because I’ve been waiting for something really cheap for the bedroom or bathroom, as well as the more upper-level receiver.
But then last weekend I spotted something at Dick Smith at Rhodes which I thought would offer me something “entry level” for the bedroom.
It’s a Kaiser Baas DAB+
DAB+ Band III with FM (87.5 – 108MHz)
Auto and manual Scan
10 presets for favourite FM and DAB+ stations
Two line backlit LCD Display
Dynamic Range Control
In my bedroom, I don’t need a high level sound-system. And I don’t need anything with big speakers that are only going to annoy the neighbours. I need something small and clear.
And at $84 this is about as good as it gets (at the moment at least). I still think they’re over-priced, by the way.
But tonight, I’ve been lying in bed tuning around the dial.
And now, with an eee and a digital radio (and a lovely breeze coming through the window), I feel as though I may never have to leave my bed ever again. :)
Except of course to go into the lounge-room to watch The Walkleys. I need a better television in my bedroom :)
So which airport would you like me to describe first? Today, I’ve visited three different airports in three different countries: Latvia, Belgium and now the Czech Republic. And although it sounds like a bit of a drag – all in the name of a cheap airfare – it was actually loads of fun.
My first mistake though was joining the queue at Riga Airport this morning. By the time I’d arrived – 75 minutes before my flight – the queue was already out the door. What I hadn’t realised was that wasn’t the queue I needed to join. My queue had only 5 people in it by the time I’d realised the error of my ways. When I told the woman on check-in how long I’d been waiting in the wrong queue, she just smiled. Maybe as some form of consolation, she gave me an excellent three-person seat all by myself.
Riga Airport
Airport security at Riga was fairly intense. Much tougher than anything I’ve ever seen in Australia. I’ve never, for example, been asked to take my belt off as a matter of course, since I know my belt is “airport safe”. And that’s when I thought to myself, I’m glad they’re being tough as “Riga Airport” sounds just like the kind of place for a hi-jacking or terrorist plot in one of those page-turning novels you pick up and read on planes.
Still, all of this queuing wasn’t so bad after all, as I had time to look around, check out the people flying, all of that stuff I love doing. The only unfortunate thing about the waiting time in the queue was having to listen to the inane ramblings of an awful American bloke behind me. “Did you bring your pretty red shoes?”, he said in a syrupy-manner to his Latvian-born wife at one point. And then when he told her he loved her because she smelled pretty, and began singing a little made-up song about how why he loved her because of the way she smelled, I just about vomited.
Brussels Airport
Meanwhile, in Brussels, there were two poofs sitting close to me in the departure lounge. I didn’t recognise them as poofs at first until I noticed one of them was wearing gold sneakers to match his black t-shirt with gold printing. Case closed, I thought to myself at that point. He looked over at me and smiled and then said something to his friend in that secret code “the gays” (as Andrew likes to call them) seem to have.
I slept most of both flights, so by the time I arrived in Prague I was feeling well and truly rested. Getting into town was smooth – I used one of those mini-buses – as was getting a week-long public transport ticket. Thirty dollars or so will cover all public transport for 5 days. And the hostel. Wow, it’s so clean and modern. And so far, everyone I’ve had dealings with customer-service wise has been so incredibly friendly. After some of the grumbles and sneers (and incompetence) I’ve found in other places, it’s been a really welcome change.
Prague Airport
Here at the hostel, for example, the staff have been tremendous, offering maps and advice. Everything you could want. There’s an English bloke here who has also offered a few tips along the way.
I haven’t seen enough of Prague yet to make any serious judgements. What has surprised me, though, is how “western” the place has become so quickly. The big firms like H&M, Tesco, Marks & Spencer have all moved in to dominate retail. And McDonalds is EVERYWHERE. The contrast between the two previous Soviet states and this one could not be more extreme, in terms of their transition to capitalism.
Also, I absolutely agree with the assessment that Prague is a beautiful city. I’ve only walked around a little of the city, but the ornamentation on some of the older buildings is heartbreakingly beautiful.
Me in Prague
I’ve been lucky with the weather too. It’s shorts weather today, and the evening continues to be warm. I was thinking of doing a three-hour historic pub tour, but a text message from Damo talked me out of it, when he conveyed how expensive it really was. I’ll probably just spend the night here at the hostel looking for lots of lovely things to do tomorrow.
I’ll have something more sensible to say tomorrow, I’m sure.
The first funeral for a former Prime Minister I remember, was the funeral of Sir Robert Menzies. It was many years since he had been the Prime Minister, and I was only a young child. Since then, in adulthood, I’ve remembered the deaths of Malcolm Fraser and Gough Whitlam. I’m sure there have been others along the way, but Hawke was a “giant” in that he was the longest serving Labor PM, and, in the words of the current Prime Minister, he was a “father of modern Australia”.
Though I wasn’t old enough to vote in the election which brought the ALP to power (in March 1983), Bob Hawke was the PM for most of my early adulthood.
We scored excellent seats through the public ballot.
Through the public ballot, my friend Judy and I scored excellent seats for today’s State Memorial. We were close enough to the stage at the Opera House to be able to watch what happened there live, and to observe the more intimate moments through the big screens.
We were also able to peer down at all of the politicians below us. It was fascinating to see the wife of a well known politician physically recoil when she thought they might be sitting next to another politician. (My lips are sealed, though I might be inclined to tell you over a couple of Hawke’s Lagers).
Looking down on the politicians in the stalls below us.
From Linda Burney’s Acknowledgement of Country at the beginning, to Blanche’s thank-yous at the end, it was a really terrific experience to be part of. A bit of history.
Great speeches. Lots of emotion, and lots of laughs, too. Kim Beazley’s story about the Cabinet meeting on board a Navy ship was very funny. There were speeches acknowledging Hawke’s legacy (Medicare, Apartheid, Antarctica etc), but also acknowledging he wasn’t exactly Saint Bob either.
I wandered over to Victoria Street this morning for a coffee at the lovely little French patisserie there. On the way back I came across a street I’ve never been in before, Little Oxford Street. Well, not knowingly anyway, as it’s the kind of street you might pop into late at night for a quick pee with little care for the neighbours.
You know what I mean: it’s too far from home, you can’t be bothered going into a pub, no one’s looking, so you pop down a little side street and relieve yourself. Not that I would do such a thing myself, nor would I endorse such behaviour of course. Especially since there’s a little laneway near where I live which most days has a unique aroma to it that tells you most men see the world as their own personal urinal.
That said, it must be a real problem being so close to Oxford Street, not only for blokes relieving themselves, but for all manner of other unsavoury behaviour. Anyway, in the daytime it seems like a nice little street.
