Bloggen Ohne Worte

I have decided I do not give Mendellsohn enough credit, nor did I realise quite how involved he was with Leipzig, so I'm listening to his Lieder Ohne Worte as I write this, making my way from Leipzig to Weimar.

Leipzig has been just wonderful! I arrived on Saturday into this magnificently musical town. Following Julia's directions, I found myself wandering down RiemanstraBe (sorry about all these Bs, I can't do umlauts on this keyboard) and discovered her flat to be just the other side of the street from a huge neo-gothic church.Ringing the bell (of the flat), I was greeted at the door by Julia, a very friendly girl who took me in and had me sit down in this rather magnificent flat of hers while she made me some tea. I was feeling a little dopey, but not too bad - this intense travelling has left me in a rather permanent state of sleepiness - and so after chatting for a bit, I decide to let her get on with some work while I go into town.
To the Thomaskirche I went for the motette - the German version of evensong. Alas, it was not the local boys choir, oh if only!! But we had the Valparaiso University Choir from the USA doing bits of Bloch, Handel and finally one of Bach's Cantatas - as would be obligatory in the place Bach spent the majority of his working life and produced the most music. The service itself was alright, I did feel a little like Mr Bean as the vicar droned on and on and on in German, leaving me unsure whether to look the part I should nod in affirmation or shake my head with a look of "oh how terrible". And monotonous English is bad enough, when there's no change of pitch in a German voice except for a very gradual rise and fall, well it does become a touch soporiphic. Still, he eventually stopped and the choir broke into the cantata. Having finished that, some people filed out and quite a few stayed to mill around the church, myself included.
It was very pretty actually, with some impressive stained glass. One window I loved because the top looked like a pair of angel wings and the other, of course, has Bach on it.
The was also a large piece of brass set into the stone just before the altar. It was Bach's memorial. I felt rather touched by it, and then greatly angered by all the people around me who just seemed to walk up, take a photo, go again. Why can't they just take a moment, just take one short moment to reflect on the unimaginable influence this man has had on music. No Bach means no Beethoven, no Beethoven means no Romantics, no Romantics means no Wagner, lack of Wagner means slower development of orchestration, so no marching military bands as we know them, then that means no jazz, no jazz means no recording technology, no recording technology means no electronic instruments, meaning no rock and roll, nor pop. It matters not what one listens to, it all goes back to the roots! And these people just take a snap to show they've been there and leave! One despairs! And I bet there's no-one standing by the memorial for Pythagoras with the same sentiments, it was afterall his theories that gave birth to any harmony at all.
After calming oneself and smiling at the lovely statue they had erected of Bach outside, I proceeded to the Bach museum, the time now being much later than I had expected. Nevertheless, I'm assured that I should just about be able to get through it in the hour and a half before closing. And I did, but only with mere minutes to spare!


It was an impressive museum actually, I do rather wish that I had more time to savour it as there was just SO much to take in. Later in the evening I was asked "So what have you learnt about Bach?" and I could not answer! If that was for tiredness, the fact it was still filtering through my mind or if it was inebriation I know not, but I do feel I've come away feeling better acquainted with Bach and more familiar. It did appear to me that he was remarkably family-orientated, despite having so much family to orientate himself upon! It appeared he was very supportive of his musical sons, though of course we will never know if that was pushy parenting or gentle co-ersion, and also that he was an extremely astute business man, and a very good self-promoter. The number of noblemen and dignitaries he managed to ingratiate himself with was quite extraordinary actually, and the way he managed to keep himself in favour (and employ) with so many of them simultaneously, particularly when it involved holidaying with them. With I think it was either Leopold or August, he went to Karlsbad - now Karlovy Vary, where I shall be on Friday! That should be really interesting, there's a square where they've always had folk bands perfoming, I'd be interested to see if any of it managed to enter into Bach's music - similarly, I'll be curious to draw comparisons between them and Dvorak.

It did also have some very interesting sections on how an editorial is made from the original score - a very valuable bit of knowledge when choosing what to conduct. There's a lot of disparity between the composer's score and the parts that were issued to the orchestra, for example. One then needs to ascertain which should be the more trusted source (as Bach would have inevitably made changes during initial rehearsals) or to go with the composer's score as that is less likely to have been changed outside of Bach's authority. They have infact now got a method to see when the markings were written, using x-rays to analyse the ink, so maybe over the next five to ten years we will see extremely authoritative editorials being issued.

After almost being kicked out of the Bach museum, I wandered back to the flat. I sat down with Julia and Lea over a mug of tea and we chatted of this and that. I was interested to know, having heard that there was still somewhat an economical divide between East and West, if a cultural difference was still felt, seeing some comparisons perhaps to be drawn between the North and South of England, and apparently very much so, for now. If one looks at voting patterns, there's a general trend to the right in what was West Germany and to the left in what was East. But this, they tell me, is very much generational. The flat is made up of people born on both sides and one can only tell a very slight difference, just what was passed on from their parents. Typing this does make me rather feel I should watch Goodbye Lenin again, but they were saying that with the next generation, the difference will be negligable.

Very off-topic, but listening to these Lieder Ohne Worte, I've just noticed where Mahler got the theme for his 5th Symphony from!! Listen to the opening to Mahler's 5th, then listen to Lieder Ohne Worte, Book 5, op. 62 - Andante Maestoso. It's uncanny :)

So after some chats we went up to Jacob's flat for a barbecue on his balcony. I took on grilling responsibilities and we had lots of lovely food and a few beers while all of us having a good time. There was Julia, Lea, Jacob, Phillip and two of their flatmates from downstairs. Julia left us a little early to go and find a friend at this party we were going to later on as she hadn't seen her in ages and wanted to catch up. Lea, Jacob and I finished eating, cleared up and then went to a do being put on by the local music and arts students. It was formal, but not rigidly followed so we dressed stylishly but not fancily. Three floors, there were, each with their own band and music. We started at the ground floor where there was a big band doing lots of jazzy numbers which was great fun, and then the drama students did a dance display, doing lots of different styles, some of which was really impressive. Back to dancing, we're all having a good time and then the MC says something in German. I turn to the girl next to me and ask what he said. "Now they're going to do a slow waltz." - "Oh.." - "Ja.... You know how to waltz?"
Do I know how to waltz? Well, it's just in three, isn't it? Simple. Oh dear Fred, now look - any gentlemanly grace you had posessed you're now leaving all over the dancefloor with each bump into other pairs and general malcoordination. I must must MUST get dancing lessons, that's one thing I am now convinced of. I will join a dancing society at university. It is decided.

Next floor up was a bit funky, we walked in on them doing a rather original James Brown cover and it was fun but not terribly dancable, so another floor up we went for good beats and tunes. Danced for a while and then it was time to go, so we got on our bikes and cycled towards the outskirts of Leipzig. We cycled and cycled and cycled until we found ourselves in this abandoned industrial-age district with loads of abandoned warehouses and broad, deserted streets. Eminating from up a darkened alley somewhere nearby was the throb of bass and of people. After feeling our way around in the dimly lit roads, we happened across this outdoor party with lots of people, a large stereo and a couple of fires for people to stay warm around, as well as some dancing. It was such a friendly environment, and apparently the police just don't care! They warned the organisers last year that the streetfestival (it's an annual event) was getting a little too big to go unnoticed, so would they kindly scale it down this year so they can go on ignoring the fact it happens :) Thing is, the entire place is devoid of any residents, no-one's actually being affected by it, so no-one to press any charges nor make any complaints! And what's more is that the atmosphere is just so relaxed and friendly and open.During the daytime it's very family-orientated, Leipzig families take their children along for facepainting and bouncy castles and generally playful things, then in the evening all the students come out for a long long night out! We left to go home again at about 5ish, by which time the sun was almost up! Cycling back, I got to bed at twenty past five only to have to get up at half past nine. What sheer commitment this man has, limiting himself to four hours of sleep just so that he can go to the concert at the Gewandhaus for 11am! It was brilliant though, I had to get a ticket and just inside the door was a nice local lady selling her ticket because her husband couldn't come. Not knowing how many tickets were even left, I thought I couldn't leave it to chance and so for €15 I found myself once again directly behind the orchestra. This time, the programme consisted of Fauré, Poulenc and Berlioz!

Pelléas et Mélisande opened the concert, played absolutely wonderfully, it was just so delicately done, I really was transported somewhere else with that Fauré, and I was really rating the conductor, plus he did it without a score. Shame then that the Poulenc came around. I enjoyed the musical side of it, but again it's these dratted soloists who keep spoiling it. They were two sisters performing Poulenc's Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra, one of whom was quite alright but the other was just ridiculously OTT. She screwed up her face at everyone when it was at a particularly dissonant/loud/fast section, and whenever she hit a loud chord, she sprang backwards and upwards into the air before landing on the stool again. Entirely superfluous, she's not gaining anything from playing like that and it's just very distracting. What's more is that the audience started sniggering at her!! And one could see why, she looked utterly ridiculous! What's more is that it wasn't forgivable eccentricity as it was all just so so insincere, all of her expressions and actions just meant nothing, and you could tell in her face it meant nothing to her either. I'm flummoxed as to how she hasn't been throttled by her sister yet, I could not bear to tour with such a person as who clasps her hands together to praise the orchestra with such blatant flamboyance and lack of feeling. Alas, this rubbed off onto the orchestra and conductor who began doing similar. By the Berlioz, everyone just started to think they were the absolute bloody best, the yardstick in music whilst trying to look hip. The leader kept rattling his head around as he played, the bassoonist was no different, it was more than a little cringeworthy. The sole saving grace was the fact that I love Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique so much after studying it in school. All it needed was the last two movements to send me out with a big smile on my face and energised for the day ahead!

To the Mendelssohn-Haus I went, and I must say what a great place it was. At first you're unsure whether it's actually open or not - which I think is just a German trait, they like to keep doors closed! - and then one goes through into what used to be his flat. I was greeted by a kindly woman who gave me student price and let me borrow some information in English. The first room I came to was his study, where I was rather touched to see that as he worked, he had a bust of Goethe and of Bach watching over him, two men he greatly admired.


In a ponderous mood, and thinking maybe I underestimated Mendelssohn, I listened to Lieder Ohne Worte as I strolled between there and the Schumann-Haus. Upon arrival it was a little embarrassing to have nothing by a €50 note for a €3 entry, but I got in. Really, I should have done it the other way around and seen Schumann first, it was much smaller, just three rooms, the rest having been handed over to a primary school. How inconsiderate that these children should want to be educated! What's more was that very little information was available in English, just a succinct summary in the leaflet they give you on the way in, no translations of what the various artefacts were, but they did do a lot on Clara Schumann as well, which was nice to see as she often gets overshadowed by Robert. But also there was very little about what happened to them AFTER Leipzig which was a little annoying. I think it's more of a chamber music venue with some niceities added on rather than an actual museum, really.
Walking back, my body realised it didn't actually need to stay awake anymore and so I staggered home, found the sofa and was brought a tea by my lovely host who took pity on me :) After a bit of recouperation we all headed out to the nearest bakery where I tried the local specialty, Leipziger Lerche - it's shortcrust pastry casing, shaped like a bun, then it's filled with a bit of jam at the bottom and lots of nutty loveliness filling it up, with a fair old amount of almond. It was looooooooooooovely! I tell you, Germany appears to me the absolute worst place to try and lose any weight, what with kuche und wurst und bier und schnitzel. I still haven't had saurkraut though, but it sounds horrible so I'm not in any great rush!

Back from our culinary adventure, we cooked up some supper and spent the evening just chilling out, all of us feeling a bit dopey after last night, particularly yours truly who had less than half the sleep to recover than anyone else!! Next morning brought my departure and I am now in Weimar, will probably try and take a daytrip to either Erfut or more likely Eisenach tomorrow. Via the hairdresser, there's a place here for €6 or something, though I might wait until Bayreuth where it might just be warmer with any luck, although even then that's only as far South as Cherbourg..

We apologise for the delay...

Tearing through the countryside, I was eagerly anticipating arrival in Lund. Changing at Copenhagen, I got on a train sat with two nice Danish ladies. I got out my Dr Zhivago and started reading, when one of them starts talking Danish at me. Grinning, I apologetically ask if they speak English, and the result was to be expected really, except that after saying "Ah, no..... But good book, veh good book!" one of them then has herself a toffee and gives me two! How lovely! And actually they were chocolate eclairs, I went to town on those bad boys, much to the ladies' delight.
By this point we were gliding over the water between Copenhagen and Malmo, across the bridge that we desperately tried to avoid hitting in the 2007 tall ships race, followed promptly by diving into the water only to pop out again in Sweden. I got into Lund after 6h40min on trains and exited the station to see Loz at the bottom of the escalator!
How lovely it was, two great friends in as many days. We had a brief wander before boarding a bus bound for his house on the outskirts. Such a nice house actually, despite being near a main road, you don't hear anything, and all around are fields and the odd farmhouse dotted around here and there. Towards the horizon can be seen the occasional church spire, so typical of Swedish design.
Making our way upstairs, I was given a lovely greeting by Hanna, Loz's girlfriend and several of their flatmates were there to welcome me in, all of whom very sweet in nature! We relaxed with a cuppa and chatted before cooking up a bolognese. We decided to stay in, all feeling a little sleepy, so it was myself, Loz and Hanna, and then their flatmates Felix and Isobel who I got along with very well. Felix is a passionate socialist, in the funnest possible way! And from a man who has Swedish royal blood in him, too - surely he's destined for elitism and not the complete antithesis of monarchy!
Loz and Hanna really looked after me, they made up a bed on the floor using a spare mattress and sheets and it was just delightful! Next morning brought a breakfast of boiled eggs and Hanna made some scones for us which were utterly sublime, I would have gladly eaten the last one had I not already been stuffed with the amazing food I was being plied with. We walked into town and savoured the lovely cobbled streets weaving their way between some gorgeous architecture. Oddly despite being Swedish, a lot of the architecture is Danish. What's more is that thanks to historical oddities, Lund university is Denmark's oldest university... In Sweden. Basically, the Danes had a lot of that land just before Sweden became amazing and very powerful, so they built a town and put their first university there. Sweden came along and said "We're having that" so the Danes pushed off and now Sweden has stolen Danish intellect, leaving Denmark a little less intelligent than before.

Heading into the university, I found an entire shelf dedicated to me. Flattering, to say the least. Turns out Fred means peace in Swedish - rather nice! And then Platt means 'flat'. Not quite so lovely, but I have heard before that Platt means field; perhaps it's a surname of Viking origins?
I was even taken to the local butcher/delicatessen and my goodness was it extraordinary. All these absolutely magnificent meats and cheeses were on display, it was a feast for the eyes, and for the nose. After salivating for a few minutes we had to leave and so we had a spot of lunch, booked my place on the sleeper train to Berlin and then on the way home visited the 12th century cathedral. Having gotten ingredients for a Swedish supper, we wandered home and got cooking after a cuppa - and a check on emails, I only got a host in Berlin very last minute, thanks to a lovely man called Christoph - but more on that in a bit.
I tried my best to learn from Hanna how to make this superb Swedish sausage stew, but despite asking at least three times I have still managed to forget the name of the sausage itself. Sorry Hanna. But it was essentially finely chopped onions, chopped sausage, both of which were fried up before adding chopped tomatoes and seasoning and allowing to simmer for a while and reduce a little before adding some cream. I feel like I'm missing out a vital ingredient, especially as it tasted so incredible. It really was so lovely, and we made far too much, so Hanna put some in a little pot for me, along with some rice as a packed lunch for my journey, and presented me with a fork. Just so lovely that they thought of me so much and fortified me for the travels that lay ahead, I came away so touched.
Alas, it was time to gather my things and take my night train. Really sad to leave Lund actually, despite only spending a relatively short space of time there I just fell in love with the atmosphere, with the food, and everyone was just so lovely, and of course I was blessed to have such a wonderful reception from Loz and Hanna, I was just blown away by their constant generosity :)

Loz took me to the railway station to find a large school group on the platform making a lot of noise. Hoping I wouldn't be in a carriage, let alone a compartment, in their company I boarded to find my couchette. The people in my compartment were very sweet actually, although I was still a bit miffed to be in a couchette at all. I'd read that one can get seats for €4 but no, there were none so I had to get a couchette for 230kr. This combined with noise all night and lack of sleep, and just a general disorientation - at one point we realised the train had in fact boarded a ferry and we were stationary on a boat just completely threw us, but we did enjoy the novelty! - meant that when I arrived in Berlin at 0630 and left the station to find myself in a drab, grey city under a leaden sky, I already detested being there in the first place. I reassured myself that a city this large must have things going for it, and so many people come away from the place full of praise, so I just galvanised myself and started to wander.
I made my way down to the Reichstag and the Brandenburg Gate. Not really knowing of any composers from Berlin - unless I'm very much mistaken - I decided that there were two choices for Brandenburger Tor, namely Beethoven's 9th or David Hassellhoff.Tight though it was, I erred in favour of Beethoven and started walking. Thing is though, I know it sounds a little odd but in my tiredness I'd confused Brandenburger Tor with a landmark which I think is in Vienna, and so I was a little disappointed and not even sure if I really had found the place at all. More walking and investigation confirmed that it was infact the place, and by this time I was tired again, losing patience, and it still wasn't anywhere near 8am when the Reichstag opens. After several ages passed, they opened the Reichstag and I joined the queue to go up the dome. I must say, I was quite impressed by the design, and they had a fair amount on the history of the building and also on how German parliament works, which I very nearly understood.

From the rooftop I spotted a cluster of pretty looking buildings out in the distance and made note of which direction they were in (I was without a map) so upon leaving I set off in pursuit of nice things. I happened upon the library which I loved and thought was quite beautiful, but they denied me access and wanted to charge me for a month's membership just so I could go up and look at the music section for an hour or two. Even more miffed now, I carried on towards the centre and soon found myself at the foot of the Berliner Dom, and generally admiring the pretty buildings around there, including the Staatsoper, the Humboldt University, various churches, including one which had been turned into a gallery of marble figures. I found a bust of Goethe which I found quite exciting, and then there was an unidentified lady lying down, I could have sworn I saw her breathing. Maybe another sign of tiredness?

Still, I carried on regardless and eventually gave up at about 2 in the afternoon by which time my legs were agony and just refusing to work, and it felt much more like 7 in the evening. I was starting to feel a little better about Berlin, but not much. I went to meet Christoph, a man who helped me out when I sent out a last minute appeal on CS for a place to stay. He's a really nice chap, in his late forties, and an avid fan of classical music! His cd collection rivalled Dad's and he also plays the flute and sings bass. He was working from home, so after a brief chat I took the opportunity to take it easy and try and fix the fact my host in Weimar had to cancel, as well as catch up on other bits of correspondance while he carried on with his list of things to do. Needing to find an electrician I walked down to the nearest shopping centre, about 15min walk into Charlottenburg, where the bombed out church is. Quite extraordinary to see this place with the windows blown out, the spire generally missing, that sort of thing. A rather chilling reminder as it was so visual.

I certainly haven't seen such well preserved examples of bomb damage in the UK, and it's so easily forgotten how forcefully we retaliated to the Blitz.
Later in the evening Christoph and I had a couple of beers - LOVE German beer now! - and chatted of one thing and another, particularly music. A very kindly man, and one doesn't feel uncomfortable in his company, but he isn't always terribly responsive and so it felt a little one-sided at times.. But not in such a way that it felt awkward, he was still very smiley and a nice chap, and showed great interest in what one had to say.
Next day he lent me his bicycle. Now, I have always had a deep hatred of bicycles, being from Bath must have made me extremely prejudiced, but as I pedalled through the Tiergarten on my way to the musical instrument museum, I really started to see what people love about them. Berlin is flat, easily navigated and there's almost always a cycle lane provided. If I lived on the continent, then maybe that'd be the way forwards. That's the only way though.

So, musical instrument museum! I went MAD for this place! My jaw was fixed in the open position with sheer awe at these beautiful and very old instruments, ranging from violins to organs to hurdy gurdies.

I fell in love with one clavichord in particular, the mahogany-keyed one above, though the photos didn't come out terribly well. The brass instruments were all so ornate, one even having precious stones set into the bell! There were various keyboard instruments going as far back as 1568 and I was just blown away by the entire thing, I was in my element. I must have spent about three hours there, just agog, before carrying on by bike to Potsdamer Platz to see the Sony Centre - a recommendation made by the other surfer staying at Christoph's. And yes, it was quite impressive by scale, but not terribly pretty. I then made out a route to go home via Checkpoint Charlie which was a bit of a disappointment, it's just a box in the road with a couple of Germans dressed as a Frenchman and a Russian. Not much else to it. I cycled through it and went back home through the Tiergarten again to chill out before the incredible evening that we had planned.....!

Berliner Philharmoniker. Kitaenko conducting. Bartok's Hungarian Sketches, Glière's Horn Concerto and Scriabin's 3rd symphony. Utterly unbelievable. Christoph and I got the cheap seats just behind the orchestra which was actually fine - the horns and timpani were a little loud to begin with, but one's ears adjusted and being on bench seats we had ample legroom, and it meant I could watch the conductor (dirigent in German!) do his thing. I really liked his style actually, I found it very easy to follow, everything was clear and precise and yet still expressive.
The Bartók was wonderful, my experiences of his music is limited to Duke Bluebeard's Castle - which I adore - but this must have been an earlier work, it was very organic whilst still remarkably virtuosic for the players. It just didn't last long enough :)
After that was the horn concerto. I must admit I'd not heard of Glière before, a Saxony man born in Kiev, but his concerto was lovely. And the soloist was a very accomplished player, but didn't he just know it. Radek Baborak his name was. He kept gesturing at the orchestra when not playing and grinning and nodding at the horn section. That's not your job, you stupid man! Stop looking so unprofessional and put a tie on, you're with the Berliner Philharmoniker! And stop distracting the horns, they'd probably play it better than you, they certainly wouldn't need the music infront of them. Do you even realise how much you look like Robbie Coltrane you silly jowly man? And the moment that comparison arose in my head I just couldn't get Nuns on the Run out of my head and kept picturing Baborak in a habit. It suited him, actually. Certainly better than a faded black crew-neck and a french horn. And much better than his cadenza suited the piece. For a piece written in a post-romantic style, he proceeded to play his cadenza as for a classical concerto. Stop running up and down scales! Be at least a little melodious, please.. But the stupid man kept going until the very very end of the cadenza where he did do the odd variation upon the main theme and then did some clever effects with the horn, but the whole thing just felt so clichéed.
Everyone seemed to love/pity him so he got lots of applause and did an ok encore, but then it was time for the Scriabin!! I know no Scriabin and so throughout this piece I was completely transfixed by this extraordinary symphony. As I write this I am exceptionally tired so I am struggling to express myself, but I essentially forgot where I was. I was not bothered about reading any programme notes, about what time my train is tomorrow, anything like that. It was one of those performances you come away from slightly out of breath, with a broad grin across your face!

Christoph and I had a beer back home to order our thoughts and bring ourselves back into the room, as it were. I settled down for bed feeling exhausted but excited about my departure for Leipzig the next day.

Naturally, travelling to Leipzig I could only be listening to Bach. His B Minor Mass kept me company as the InterCityExpress (ICE) took me there in no time at all. Not enough time to write this blog, certainly! Playing catch up right now :)
I think I shall leave it at that for now, Leipzig will have a seperate entry, otherwise this would just be of ridiculous length. I do think I'll start doing blogs by destination rather than every other destination however. It's getting to that point where I'm just doing so much, each two day period in each place feels like a week and there's endless amounts to report on!! Expect the next installment tomorrow evening.

Again, apologies that this entry took so long to do, and also took so long to read!!
Much love to all at home xxx

Das Wandern ist des Müllers Lust

On train from Kiel to Lund - crossing two borders as I go!
Listening to: Brahms's 1st Piano Concerto

What can I say, except that the German people at large have so far been some of the most welcoming I have ever experienced. The first contact I had was giggling with a German man when I heard something funny coming from inside my bag, turned out the baggage handlers had set off my beard trimmer, then when struggling with the ticketing system on the S-Bahn, someone behind me asked in very good English if I needed a hand. Realising I wasn't going to be able to even begin to fathom what ticket I needed, I gladly accepted his offer and before long found myself on the Reeperbahn, of all places. An elderly gentleman showed me to Kristansainallee where I was met by one Lucas Berg, my host for the next two nights.He appeared at the door looking more than a little dazed. He explained that one problem with living so close to the Reeperbahn was that he was always being invited out and getting phonecalls at silly o'clock in the morning. Sounds utterly horrid. He made me feel right at home, showing me to my bed - a rollmat and a duvet on the floor, but a sleeping surface nonetheless, and poured me a drink while I collected my thoughts and we had a good chat. Asking me what plans I had, if any, I said my only plan was to see the Brahms museum, other than that I had none. Feeling rather ashamed he knew nothing of one of Hamburg's prominent citizens, he declared he would join me, and then show me around Hamburg afterwards.As we walked up the Reeperbahn, he pointed out his favourite haunts and some of the landmarks around the area, and we chatted about all sorts until we found ourselves going down this rather picturesque little alley (PeterstraBe) and up to the door of Brahms's house - very luckily escaping the war unscathed. An extremely friendly woman welcomed us in, and gave me a student price despite my lack of any ID. Also there was Stephan, an American gentleman who spoke fluent German and had a huge interest in Brahms - so much so that he unfortunately took it upon himself to regularly interrupt our absolutely charming guide to give us some facts, often of little importance, or even relevance, but he chatted with us a lot and had good intentions. The museum itself was small, but definitely worth it for €3. We were shown various artefacts of the Brahms family, including prizes he'd been awarded. Rather than a bottle of wine or flowers at the end of a concert, on the odd occasion he was presented with silver laurels, or even a silver ribbon with engraving on it to show people's appreciation of this compositions. Rather lovely a though, and the silver ribbon was particularly lovely I felt. They also had an antique piano, for anyone to have a go on. This piano had belonged to the family of one of Brahms's pupils. I forget the name of the type of piano, but I shall look it up in my guide. It was a sort of baby grand, but the strings ran parallel to the keyboard. I sat down to have a go, plonking my way through some Chopin (alas I know no Brahms and I barely know Chopin) I laid my fingers upon those very keys Brahms himself would have demonstrated with, and started playing only for nothing to happen. The keys were remarkably heavily weighted, it took an enormous amount of effort to sink one of the keys down far enough to strike the strings, so there was this delicate Prelude in E Minor being forced out in fortissimo just to get any sound at all. Didn't help that I made lots of mistakes either, and I soon gave up, still happy that I'd managed to get a go on it!
Stephan suggested we go for a drink and I tried my best to be civil despite my exhaustion - 3hrs Wednesday night, 5hrs Thursday, 4 on Friday night. I was flagging to say the least. It was, however, a pleasant hour spent in his company where he showed us his ipad, we talked about music, about things not to do with music, he mentioned his neice, he showed me a photo, said she lives in London and we should almost certainly meet up. Naturally I said that would be lovely, not really thinking he would take it any further (although she was stunning so I wouldn't say no) but he then brought out his camera, took a photo and said he would send it to his neice. Oh my. I must admit, while I appreciated the sentiment, I do feel awkward in such situations. She hasn't ASKED to be introduced to me, I'm sure she already has plenty of friends in London and she'll be thinking "what on earth could this man want to do with me?" Especially as last night I checked my email to find Stephan had CCd the email to me, with the photo, where I look an absolute wreck. I do indeed look like I have been up for days. Still, she'll hopefully just think "well, that's just like my uncle to do something like that.."


It was now early afternoon, we bid farewell to Stephan and walked down to the harbour. Getting on a boat, we went upriver to Lucas's parents' house. They were away, but oh my what a house. An old mariner's place on the riverbank, it was extremely picturesque and we had some food before walking further along the river to a park where his friends had situated themselves. Lovely lovely people, they'd set themselves up with some speakers and turntables and were basically DJing for an outdoor party in the late afternoon as the sun went down. There weren't many of us there, it was more a test run to see if the equipment would work if they had a larger scale event the next day, but it was a very pleasant affair, and they were all very interested to hear what I was up to and how I found Germany. Some beers later we went back home to change before meeting up with some more people in the evening - namely Sammy and Emily. Sammy was a very spritely girl from New Zealand, who would have been couchsurfing with Lucas had I not gotten in there first, and I think it was a similar story with Emily who was really really sweet, she was from switzerland and was travelling Germany before beginning her studies. However, lack of sleep had now caught up with me and I just had to excuse myself and go to bed before I fell asleep in the bar. I was back home at 2300 and slept for 11 hours which was just what I needed. Shame I couldn't stay out, it sounded like a great night they had - Lucas got back at about 6am having stayed out all night and then gone to the fischmarkt for breakfast. Gentleman that he is, he got up at 10 when I woke and took me around Hamburg again, showing me to the harbour and all the old customs houses, as well as the new development they're doing, which is on a massive scale, was pretty impressive. All the time I couldn't help thinking it'd be a good place for a Tall Ships Race once it's finished :)
Met up with Emily again, outside the rather impressive Rathaus. Having bought ourselves icecream, we made our way over to Brahmsplatz, via the opera house where I saw Lohengrin was on that very evening, starting at 5. The time was 2 and the box office was shut, so we carried on and visited this place which is full of squatters, all of whom are artists. Some companies and the council wanted to redevelop the area and these artists said absolutely not and now they populate the buildings, spending their days making art, having time to themselves and leaving the doors ajar for people to wander in and look at their work. It felt really bohemian, I loved it! And most of the art was really clever actually - one or two were less so, but a lot of them obviously took a lot of lateral thinking to come up with :)

We went back home so I could change, and Lucas would stay there so he could catch up on sleep. Donning my navy jacket and cream chinos I strode out into Hamburg once more, ignoring all the local laws about jaywalking which I knew nothing of. Good thing I didn't get caught, I discovered yesterday one can be fined up to €60 for it... Utterly illogical though, it only applied when crossing at traffic lights, anywhere else on the road is fine, and what's more is that it works like Vietnam, when the man turns green, the traffic can still flow across your path if it's turning right. Still, I found a bus and in my best German said "Oper, bitte" which wasn't understood so I wrote it down and he nodded in assent. When I tried to pay him he just gestured me to sit down and not worry about it. After ten minutes we were just around the corner from the place and he told me where to go and sent me on my merry way to the box office. They were very helpful, and tried their best to find an English programme or libretto but unfortunately had none. Had I thought ahead, I would have printed one out beforehand, but it was all a bit rushed when it came to leaving the house. Anyway, I bought my ticket for a seat in one of the boxes, third in from stage right. What a brilliant choice that seat was, I found myself with a completely unrestricted view of the stage, and of the surtitles, unhelpfully still in German! A lady came and sat next to me and started chatting away in German. I apologised profusely, stating I couldn't speak German and "sprechen sie Englisch?" As it happened, her English was amazing on account of having lived in London for a few years. We chatted endlessly about music, she asked me if this was my first opera, I said it was my first Wagner, she asked what I was doing in Germany and it was all lovely. The lights were about to go down and the woman infront of me asked (in German) if my view was ok and to just tell her if she blocked it at all during the performance. Seeing the lost expression on my face she repeated it in English and it was rather touching that she should actually care - uncommon for most audiences I have been part of.

The orchestra started playing, and thus began four hours of absolutely wonderful Wagnerian goodness. Trying my utmost to make sense of the plot, this is what I ascertained - man and woman want to marry. Other man and woman don't want them to marry. Other man and woman suppressed during wedding. First man and woman regret marriage later that evening. Man kills other man. Everyone celebrates. Woman chastised a bit. Other woman sort of forgotten about. Man goes away somewhere. Thus endeth the opera. What I'll do is look up the libretto when I actually find an internet connection, see how close I was! I kept staring at the surtitles, thinking the longer I gazed at them, the more likely it would be that I'd suddenly understand what was being said. That sadly was not the case, although I did pick up odds and ends from when I'd been studying German lieder, some words had stuck in my head! What's more is that in the final act - of course my suspicions of this being "that" Wagner opera were confirmed when they broke into Here Comes The Bride, but the climax for me was when the offstage trumpets chose where I was sitting to play. There was one to a box, and I was at the edge of my box so two metres infront and to the right of me was one trumpeter, with another just two metres behind and to the left!! It was absolutely enthralling, it felt fantastic! I strode back home, buzzing with sheer elation that this trip is one of my best ideas in a long while :)

I was introduced to Lucas's friend Tom on my return, a really nice guy who joined us as we went out for drinks in some of the lesser known (and cheaper) places. 3am rolled around and we thought we should probably be responsible and go to bed owing to a relatively early start the next morning to get my train bound for Keil. After he'd cooked me some scrambled eggs in the morning, I just just made it in time. I sat down with plenty of space all around me and feeling a little guilty I hadn't listened to enough Brahms whilst in Hamburg, my journey was filled with Ein Deutsche Requiem. Sublime, and fitting given the horrible weather that took me by surprise after two beautiful days over the weekend.

Arrival in Kiel saw me reunited with my good friend Ollie, who's studying there this year. We had a brilliant and long chat about all that's been going on, we walked through Kiel (where both Woolworths and C&A still survive!) and along the waterfront, where I spotted our rivals from last year's race - Peter von Danzig!!! No-one was on board though, so we continued until we found this cafe by the name of Louf. Ollie treated me to a beer and a waffle, which I had with cinnamon and sugar and it was loooooooovely!!! Also tried some of the cherries that came with Ollie's waffle, thinking it all looked very Germanic and lovely, and indeed it was! Wandering back, we collected my bag from the Hbf and found a bus to take us to Ollie's flat, attempting my best German to ask for a ticket there. Dumped things, checked email very quickly, then I collapsed for a nap while Ollie did some French work. And hour or two later and we were having supper with his friend Marcus and later on, drinks with them and their friend Laura. Earlyish night and we went home and straight to bed. Awoke thismorning for my train journey to Lund - all six hours and thirty nine minutes of it - where I am now. Seat 67 on the ICE enjoying what rural sights Denmark has to offer me. As we left Kiel we were surrounded by lovely countryside and the sun came out, inspiring me to listen to a little more Brahms, opting for his 1st piano concerto owing to it's lovely organic sounding introduction. Certainly fitted with the rolling fields spreading from the tracks. But alas, this is as far as we have come! I am coming up to a change, so should get the laptop put away and I will upload this along with photos a bit later.

Much love!
Freds xxx


Quick update - going through photos as we go from Copenhagen to Lund. Don't have any Swedish composers on my ipod so I'm listening to Grieg first, then Sibelius. Being geographically either side of Sweden, surely it balances out.....? Although the Grieg is being played by Lief Ove Andsnes who I think might just be Swedish.. We'll see.

And another edit - been having a lovely time with Loz in Lund - a very pretty town, but I shall write about that when whiling away the hours on the night train to Berlin!

One week later

So, I've been back a week now. It feels... peculiar, despite the familiarity. I left Vietnam when I had become well adjusted to life there, and well adjusted to the climate! So much so that when my mother offered me a cup of tea after lunch, I shook my head and did that rocking of the hand gesture that one is forced to employ to deter street sellers, taken to mean "don't bother, I actually live here and have everything that you could possibly have to offer, I'm not a tourist."
My poor mother, I quickly realised what I'd just done and apologised, but it did give me the realisation of just how normal and automatic Vietnamese life had become. Or rather, the life of a travelling Englishman in Vietnam :)
To reacquaint myself with the home life I wandered around Bath for a bit, I sat myself infront of Jeeves and Wooster and set to consuming cottage pies, toads in holes, etc etc. I did weigh myself upon returning home to find myself the lightest I've been since I was 16 - a mere 13st 6lb! But this will barely last if I carry on as I do, gorging upon carby, fatty foods. Which reminds me, I'm yet to tuck into some Sainsbury's caramel slices! I'll find an excuse to drive down that part of town later on :)
Two things really shocked me as I re-entered life here. First was petrol prices - sorry, but what on earth happened that brought them up by 10 pence per litre?? Secondly, we're apparently having some sort of election? That's what I've been told, anyway..
Having been dropped in it, I've no idea who to vote for, who I actually support or anything. Driving up North Road, I see a mass of blues and oranges (no red, labour has never been popular in Bath since they allowed lots of development in the 70s.) all the way up. Lib Dems, Conservatives, they're everywhere!! And my house is sandwiched in it all without a sign outside it. Well, I'm tempted to get a white diamond-shaped placard in my window and write in big, bold letters - "APATHY" and see what the neighbours say :) One of them can't get too angry, he's basically placed his tory sign right infront of our place instead of his! It's like he's embarrassed to be conservative.. Which is understandable, of course - Oooooooooooooooooh, controversial!!

How do I feel about Vietnam now, then? Vietnam is still a stunningly beautiful country, with incredible food and some amazing experiences to be had. It has, however, changed on an extraordinary scale, as can be expected for a developing country. And what I disliked was how the people now perceive Westerners. Four years ago I felt welcomed by almost every single person I met, they were so happy to have us there and treated us splendidly. Now, however, people were trying to swindle me at every single given opportunity. There's a very corrupt side to the culture now, which I was not expecting to see after my last visit. It is, however, a notorious difference between people in the North and people in the South. People in the North have, for millenia, been constantly invaded by the Chinese, and more recently the French, the Japanese, the French again and the Americans. This has turned them into a much more introverted people, and maybe that crosses into an inherent...... well, distrust is maybe a little strong, but they look after their own and everyone else is an outsider - and don't they know it. I really don't think it has been helped by tourism though, it's rather what I've come to call the Top Gear Effect, as I think I described several posts ago.
Look, I still had a phenomenal time though. It was extraordinary, I am thrilled that I spent the time there that I did, but I warn people reading this that it will not stay that way for much longer. For heaven's sake, go to Vietnam before it's turned into a gold course!!



So what next? Well, May 22nd sees me fly out to Hamburg to begin my travels around Europe. I must make a spot of money, I must get my Russian visa, I must make an insurance claim, I must make my student finance application, however I have already made my halls application, I have emailled a scan of my music certificates to Soton so my offer is now officially unconditional, I have done all sorts! But I must carry on with the same momentum I began with. I have to get so much done, AND I have to get this Bach committed to memory and sounding decent for my scholarship audition on the 14th.
But I must must must make some money!! But how? How do I make lots of money with very little effort?? Suggestions on the back of a postcard, sent to...........


oh, and this blog will continue when I start travelling around Europe :) Until then, have a lovely month of May!