Friday, November 29, 2002

new words
been hearing a huge number recently from my english friends, who seem have a colloquial term for everything. here is a sample:

"awlll rright" hello, how are you
"battered" one more term for being very drunk.
"getting involved" participating in anything, from becoming amorous with someone to agreeing to go out to lunch.
"pulling" Warning-potential for misunderstanding. pulling as the english use it is a generic term for getting together with someone, "hooking up", "snogging" or "being with someone". in Oz, pulling is the shortened version of a very specific action of "pulling off". can get people in trouble when talking in large groups.
"minging" simply, in bad taste.

a typical conversation with my brittish friends: i was at the frog and the princess the other night, and i got completely battered. i went up to this fit guy and said "awl right, i wouldnt mind getting involved". but after i pulled, i woke up to find he was minging.

sometimes i need to translate one of their conversations. here is the same one in australian (adelaide) english: i was chilling at the frog and the princess the other night, and got completely hammered. i went up this this lush chick and said "g'day, your place or mine". but after i was with her, i woke up to find out she was a hagus.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 1:18 PM

Wednesday, November 27, 2002

borgogne
i have now mastered the art of travelling light- with my guide book, my journal, deoderant, and moisterizer, and changes of underwear and socks-all wedged into my small day bag that zips onto the front of my rucksack-i am able to get down to the basics of travelling. disposing of my huge ruck sack has been a joy-and i recommend it top any travellers when possible: i have all my things on me at all times. as i dont have to drop my back pack anywhere, i am not bound to any place- i can change my mind about in which city and hostel i want to sleep.

and when you are resigned to the fact you have to wear the same clothes for three days, you find out that it is not so bad after all.

my little weekend trip to burgandy (ou borgogne en français) was just about travelling light and freely. i travelled without the weight of expectations or a fixed plan, alone, and although i already knew the places i wanted to see, for the most part i let spontenaeity and interest carry me along.

dijon, mustard capital of the universe, turned out to be a beautiful old french town with a lot to offer a traveller. its buildings and streets mix a very dignified historical air with the current energy and weath from its sucessful wine industry. historically it has always been economically stong -it was the former capital of the borgognian empire and has thrived thru different epoques as a trade link between the mediteranian and the french empire and northern europe. in the 14 and 15th centuries it was bigger than the entire french state: so big that the french state was almost absorbed into it, rather than what eventually happened. today it remains an artistic city, and there remain some excellent paintings and art from its former glory days in the in the musee de beaus arts.

it is also a young artistic city: the large artistic school in the centre gives the ancient town a youthful studenty air. perhaps this is why the people of dijon, though much more friendly than in paris, are raving mad....

i arrived quite late on the friday night after i caught the TGV from paris, i started thinking about an early night. i was opnce again lost in the centre of town-the streets of these old french towns, unlike the well planned adelaide, are always maze like and it is impossible to orientate yourself- so i asked a passer by for directions, and started to chat. he was a student at the university, and lived just opposite. he invited me round for a beer.

i thought that you have to make the lost of your opportunites when you are travelling-even if it seemed a little strange-and so why not.
it turned out to be an epic night. the place was boho at its most grimy, out of control and crazy. paint was on the walls, on the floor books, ash trays and empty bottles.
four people were living there, two illegally. despite the dubious conditions, they were incredibly friendly, pointed out the sofa i could sleep on, then got down to the buisness of getting trashed.

they truely were a strange group of people, living in the moment, philosophical, anarchists, and alcoholics.

at about 5 am the police came in to say that the musique was too loud-hard core-goa techno wasnt helping the neighbours sleep. it was the fourth time they had come, and they had no money to pay the fines. i make had no illusions for these guys-at that point in their lives they were on a downward spiral. but when i left afterwards i still respected them- they were a bunch of people on a totally different (destructive) path to me, but nevertheless living what they thought. and very friendly and generious when they didnt have to be.

i left asap and instead went looking for some of reality. at the musee de beaux arts i met another crazed dijonaise-confirming my impression they are all very friendly but fou. a security guard, interested in speaking french with the australian, being dijonaise, decided to show me his aikido moves in one of the main rooms of the museum. after several painful holds, kicks and maneovers, i began to worry for his sainity too-but he assured me that he was normal. the old people hurrying past didnt think so.

i left dijon and headed south to go into the famous area of the cote d'or (the coast of gold), where even naminging the little villages along this strech to a serious wine buff will get their mouths watering. the funny thing was that at nuits st george, where i stopped for a quick walk, it was surprisinly humble and not very self important.

after some quick tasting, i next headed for beaune, the capital of the cote d'or, and without doubt one of the most famous wine cities in france.

other than wine, there is the famous 15C Hotel Dieu It was one of the first medieval hospitals built, and today filled with gruesome old surgical instruments and a colourful roof from its flemish architect. inside is the famous wall size painting, The Last Judgment Polyptych, with graphic pictures of the future for the sick and unfaithful:

after such religous guilt producing stuff, i delt with it in the normal french way-went wine tasting. in the centre of town was a 12C cellar, that until a few hundred years ago housed the bodies of people who had fallen victom to the plagye. then i discovered the giverny chamùberlain. a borgogne pinot, the very last one of a serious of 18 wines that i tried. it was delicious. afterwards i found out that that one was was napoleons favourite , and has now become known as the wine of the kings, so i was feeling pretty elite. the price of course bought back the reality of my peasant reality. despite the arrogance, the archaic systems, and the other problemes in the french wine industry, they are good for a reason-they taste delicious.

i left the gastronomic delights of beaune and instead tapped into some older historical currents further south: the cluny abbey in south borgogne. it was built in the 10C as the centre power base for the benedictine monks. At its prime it had over 1000 abbeys under its control from england to italy. more impressive still was that it had the biggest church in the world until st peters basilica was built in Rome. sadly most of it was dismantled during the revolution, and very large foundations are all that are left to drive the imagnination. but the intensity of the life of a monk in the middle ages, the overwhelming wealth, and the beautiful country side were fascinating. it made me think of The Name of The Rose. (3d reconstruction)

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 7:13 PM

Sunday, November 24, 2002

in burgandy this weekend.

dijon has been fanstastic, and the mustard IS good. but got to go and catch next train. no time for stories

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 2:28 PM

Tuesday, November 19, 2002

i was looking at the medieval source book today.

this was the course guidelines for medical studies at the sorbonne in the years 1270-74 :

"The course of study is as follows: he ought to have reard the Medica twice in the regular courses and once in an extraordinary course with the exception of Theophilus On Urines, which it is sufficient to have heard once in either a regular or an extraordinary course; the Viaticum twice in regular courses: the other books of Isaac once in a regular course, twice in extraordinary courses, except the Particular Diets, which it is sufficient to have heard in an extraordinary or regular course ; the book of Antidotes of Nicholas, once. The Verses of Aegidius is not required. Also, he ought to have read the books on Theory and Practice."

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 8:14 PM

Monday, November 18, 2002

i was at the match where the ball fell over.
i never really watched much rugby before. in south australia we watch and play australian rules. in fact, it was only after i arrived in europe that i was properly aware that australia is the current world champion team, after the 1999 rugby world cup. some years australia wins too many things, and i forget.

but that all changed on sat night when i saw france take on NZ at the stade de france, in a hyped battle billed as the world cup final for 2002. it was up to the kiwis to win for the southern hemisphere after both australia and south africa lost their matches. southern hemisphere vs the northern hemisphere.

we shouldnt have been there, as seating had been sold out for months. but over surply of scalpers around gave us the chance to get some for only a 3 euro mark up. even more surprisingly the tickets worked, and our seats were well placed, in the middle group of seats at about 4 oclock around the stadium.(virtual tour). the stade de france was pretty pretty impressive. it was built for the 1998 world cup, which france won in fairy tale style. it is truely a sight to see: massive, and a modern design with new materials with a circular roof which looks like a flying saucer . and well organised, although a drunk kiwi guy noted in the packed male bathrooms "whats the point of a state of the art stadium when i am pissing in the sink".

the prematch hakka(?) by the kiwis team was loved by the both supporters.

our multinational group of english, wales and australia had important decisions to make in regard to support. i decided to bury old transtasman rivalry and barrack for NZ and the southern hemisphere and after all, the 1000s of kiwis that were around the place all sounded like australians anyway. almost. the others decided between the historic anti french tradition, and the more recent anti southern hemisphere sentiment that has grown out of the fact that we kick their arses all the time.

the final result was a 20 all draw. a mutually dissatifying result. france would have won though except that the ball fell over at during a simple penalty kick about 5 mins before the end of the game.

the group of french supportors wearing berets and eating cheese and drinking wine before the game made the whole night well worth it.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 6:21 PM

the next day i went to chateau fountainbleu so that i could continue to experience my journey thru france, thru different epochs, regions, and europe. with hangovers.

it was quite different to the better known versailles. both are extremely lavish, but where as versailles is titanic, fontainebleu was much smaller and more on a human scale. i found it much more digestable.

it has been filled with the whos who of french royalty since it was first constructed in the 12C, and it was here the mona lisa hung for about three centuries before being moved to paris. the french also hid alot of the paris art here from the germans during the occupation in WWII.

unfortunately my hangover meant my brain was working a little too slowly, and the doors creaked shut just as i arrived, despite my various pleas like "i am going back to australia tomorrow!!", "i came to france especially to see this!!". all bullshit. but one less mean security guard took pity on me and my french and opened the gate to the pretty gardens and lake. and my major interest for going to fontainbleu was out side anyway: Le Cours De Adjieu (click here for a spify panaramic view, picture 2), is a large court on one side of the chateau with a horse shoe stairs well and immaculate french grass (dont even thin about walking on french grass-they can even read your thoughts about it). the place is famous cos it was here napoleon had to denounce his claim as emperor of france after a horrendous loss of an entire army in his unsucessful russia campaign. during his final address, his bad arse soldiers, veterans from countless horrible battles that he had lead them thru in the napoleonic wars, were said to have openly cried, and refused to admit defeat. a special human moment in his brutal career, and perhaps describes why french people are still mixed about him today: he embodies frances glory, but also its defeat and the death of around one million lives.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 5:15 PM

Monday, November 11, 2002

"the country house"
i finished this trip in a small village near Argenton in the middle of Normandy, when i met up with my english buddies in "the country house". stone walls, wooden fires, bedrooms with slanted roofs, normandy cheese, wine, a village of five houses, and paddocks of thick juicy green grass with cows with udders like beach balls. it was the perfect realisation of the luxurious life in northern france.

it made me miss McLaren Vale.

i mentioned it to dad on the phone this morning, and i think he couldnt help but point out that mum and he did a similar trip many years ago, but for them it was very different: sleeping at night in a small Renault, they would go into a small cafe for breakfast, and take it in turns washing and shaving in the basin. "back in my day.......". fair enuf

it feels good to be in paris again, back in the energy and the diversity. but straight away the crowded metro and the muggy air got to us all.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 8:29 PM

20 mins away from caen was bayeux and there i saw in a humble museum the famous tapestry. in it is the story of how the duke of normandy used a series of favourable chances to become the king of england. The battle of Hastings in 1066 is meant to be the only historical date brittish people ever remember, but they never know why. but my guide book ventures that it is because it was the first (and last) year the proud english were conquered by another king.

the tapestry itself was much smaller and less elaborate than i expected- 70 meters long isnt that long when you put it in a big museum, and the embroidery isnt notably delicate or intricate. but i suspect there is a bit of the mona lisa factor- the massive reputation makes you imagine it to be so much bigger than it really is. but it was very alive despite being 900 years old, and the part when harold (the young defeated english king) gets an arrow thru his eye is particulary enjoyable.

this is another good scene when william sets out to cross the english channel towards hastings

later in the after noon, and back again in this century, i saw a memorial for 4600 dead soldiers from the battle of normandy. it was very very moving. 4000 brittish soldiers lined up in rows, 40 canadians, 17 australians and a new zealander. about half were under 25, and about 10% were 19 yo.
4 years younger than me.

it was the numbers of the dead that i never could grasp. 100 000, 6 million or whatever-they are just big numbers. but in a grave of only 4600, i was shocked to see that beneath each tomb stone was a man, with a different name, a different age and place or origin, and a incomplete family. i still cant put it together, but for the first time i appreciated it a bit more.

next to them were the graves of 400 Germans who also died in the fighting. a german couple next to me looked just as reflective and sad as the english.

WWII suddenly felt very real. my mums parents fought in this war.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 7:27 PM

Friday, November 08, 2002

well i made it to normandy-it is so quiet here, and i can actually breathe the air.

most of this trip will be alone, but i am am kinda happy about that. already i feel an echo of history is so strong in normandy that i think i will spend most of my time living in past anyway. for such a small area it has had it fare share of french and world history.

this afternoon in Rouen i saw the square in which joan of arc was burned at the stake for heresy and witchcraft in 1492. the rouen cathedral was also used by monet in a series of paintings, but when i arrived i couldnt work out why he chose this one and not any of the others in france.

i left there after two hours and trained it to Coen which has some 1000 year old ruins left over from the the duke of normandy who later became known as william the conqueror (and william the bastard during his life). the two abbeys where already shut by the time i arrived, but i walked around the fortress at night time and it was creepy to think someone else was doing the same thing on a night 1000 years ago.

i would go home to sleep but the only room i could rent for under a million euros was the tiny loft of a small out of the way hotel. infact, the roof is about 4.5 foot high, so i have to put 1.8 foot of me somewhere else.

almost all of the city of caen was completely smashed to pieces in the bombing raids in the battle of normandy (by the allied bombing and the retreating germans). so except for the above ruins, everything was either 1950s or old building architecture with a new glossy shine. blah.

the highltlight for me though was the recently built WWII museum,Le memorial. A truely excellently arranged museum that explored the D day landings and battle of normandy with excellent selected examples and video, all in a surprisingly unbiased way (it had a whole section about La Collaberation of the french with the nazis, something that you have to search out in other museums that prefer to highlight La Resistance). and being more than just a historical museum, it had an entire wing devotoed to peace, how to attain it, why it good and how to keep it. a very good musuem.

and normandy is so englishy. all the towns i have seen so far have the unmistakable marks of the english streaked thru: old houses with wooden criss crosses under the windows (the ones that make you think of shakepere), large pubs rather than the salon de thé, stone houses, and english architecture. thats the trade off for being the country with the biggest geographical area in the centre of europe, and having such a massively complicated history. in the east the town are more german, and in the south more spanish.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 7:57 PM

today pip leaves The City of Light and will continue on her "window shopping journey of europe-i stop when something interests me". the week has been like an action movie on fastfoward, but filled with some really great moments that have already become great memories-like her rissoto and the italian chianti wine last night.

we both agreed that dj shadow last tues was one of, if not the best musical performance that we have ever seen. afterwards no superlative was good enough.

he is one of those performers that gets it just right with his crowd. an idea is introduced, like the sample of a really well known track, and then removed. the crowd begs for more, and after waiting just the right time, he brings it back with perfect timing.

Most of the music he played was his own (especially preemptive strike, entroducing, also his new album). but all of the old tracks came back, modified, improved, brought foward to 2002. his live improvising of organ donar was unbelievable.

he also played infront of three large video screens filled with dreamy and interesting flashing images that added to the mood hugely. and he managed to link images to the different sounds of his music, creating huge flashing images that overwhelmed. it was all new and stuff.

i could keep going, but i suggest you all check him out yourselves. (he is in adelaide on dec 1st).

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 7:55 PM

Thursday, November 07, 2002

the long weekend beginning tomorrow was ripe for france travel exploitation, and then came the offer to stay with some mates in their parents' normandy house.

i think i will arrive there on sunday, which gives me two days to see some of the other parts of normandy:

the D Day landing sites

the Bayeax Tapestry

Mont St Micheal.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 7:00 PM

computer nerd gangs suck
cyber cafes for the traveller are as much a necesscity as lonely planets, stories about being ripped off, and mcdonalds. now living in paris, rather than visiting it for a month, i have had to choose where i plan to read my news, send filth to helen, and tap tap tap away on my blog.

the first cybercafe cafe i considered are the spiffy ones around chatelet; brand new flat screens, zippy connections and headphones included. and all the while sitting on beautifully soft, leather desk chairs that would impress even a CEO. they are the deluxe, well located, and filled with CEOs.

for mortals there are tiny ones around le jardin de luxembourg, dodgy ones around monmartre, and the last option is the ezy internet places that are popping up around europe more and more. the last is the one that i have finally settled with, and the St Germain ezy internet cafe is where i am sitting at the moment. the best thing about these is their monthly passes; 7euros unlimited access is too good to ignore. but then you do get what you pay for.

here is a sample of the things around me at the moment that are shitting me to tears. firstly the guy on the other side of the wall. what is it with angry young men who like to play angry young mens music so fuckn loud that EVERYONE has to hear it ? (the same fuckers are always offending on the metro). he is wearing wear black, bit chubby and needs a shave. he is probably the "quiet guy" that will go on to blow something up. ie trench coat style. then there is two sets of couples that use TWO chairs per computer. all they do is talk and never seem to use their computer. the right button of the first mouse i used didnt work. and finally, this level is filled with gangs of computer nerds: now these guys shit me. they think place is thier own home (and basically is cos they never do anything else) and are behaving accordingly. loud, abnoxious, and never seem to put on deoderant (have you ever noticed how much these places smell like adolescent stinking boys?-maybe they should go to sex ed class more often). basically fucken geeks. if i was a school i would go and bash them up on the oval during lunch time. their forté is playing quake esk type communal shooting games, 10 at a time and squeeling and threatening as they go, and of course, internet porn ( "hey guys", he he, "check this out" he he he. they all crowd around: he he he he he he he).

give me peace!!!!!!!! si vous plait

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 5:15 PM

Monday, November 04, 2002

pip arrived here two days ago. she has just come from italy and croatia, and before that turkey. i took her to my appartment where she is staying for the week, made up an especially strong brew of coffee, and we chatted about all her experiences since sept in Spain. She has cheap rugs from eastern turkey, she saw iraq from a hill in turkey, gallipoli, and told me about some very friendly man that was spanking the monkey at the roman ruins in Split.

now in paris, i have had to admit that i cant show her everything- my tour services will have to be more controlled now thta i am at uni during the day. and she has alot of "must see" things to visit which i have already seen.

so instead of daytime touring, we will meet up at night for some fun.

and it all begins tomorrow with dj shadow. shhhhhh.

on the weekend we began the task of paris nightlife by checking out Le Batofar, a nightclub inside a barge (un peniche) that floats on the river seine. the label diamond traxx were showing off all their djs that saturday and the music was outstanding. pitty that no one seems to have told these guys that you need to mix the music too.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 6:04 PM

new word:
"boho"- ie your sooooo boho. short for bohemian- brought over here by the english exchange students

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 4:26 PM

Christian and Lauren are engaged!!
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!.

it just happened after they left paris and were somewhere in italy.

the wedding is a while off.

.: posted by aidan burrell @ 4:10 PM