scatterbrook

The big three of Milan, La Scala, the Vittorio Emanuel Emporium, and the Duomo, stand together in the middle of town. The Duomo is totally overwhelming. But then, it has had quite a few hundred years to arrive at this point.

It is very nearly complete, a couple of blocks of marble still await conversion to sculptures. Meanwhile, natural forces are working strongly in the direction of decay. Inside and out, teams of hard hats work high on the scaffolding, restoring and repairing. Such is the program of their work that they have to continually move on, leaving the ornate marble only partly cleaned and restored. It is likely to be some time before the Duomo stands clean and complete, free of scaffolding and hard hats. At the top of the Duomo, the heavy marble roofing tiles sit in stark contrast to soaring spindly spires crowned with statues of the saints, not teetering, just comfortably at home in the sky.

Given the reputation of La Scala, we expected nothing less than the best with a performance of Mozart’s Idomeneo. We played our part by dressing for the occasion. The grand auditorium is geared to acoustics and performance, and succeeds brilliantly. If the audience is physically a bit uncomfortable, that is a small price to pay. Of course, Idomeneo must be sung by the classical tenor and the bad guys by baritone or base. That means that Idamente, the gentle son, must be sung by a higher voice. The obvious answer is by an alto, yes, a woman. Puzzling at first, but it all works out OK.

At the majestic Vittorio Emanuel II Emporium, a sea of shoppers and lookers swells past the boutique salons, while we sit in the smug comfort of the famous Camparino Bar, sipping Aperol Spritz and Italian Sours. And further along the street it is possible to lounge, sipping and supping on the rooftop of the swish La Rinascente department store while checking out the Saints across the street on their spires of the Duomo.

The Science museum in Milan has much in common with other similar collections around the world. The Milan Museum stands apart by emphasising the leading role that Italy played in development of gadgets of all sorts. Leonardo certainly got them off to a good start. So, there is a display of Leonardo designed things produced by an army engineering team. Then there are the planes, boats, torpedoes and trains. Italy did it all first, and so much bigger, faster and better than anyone else.

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The Italian Lakes, Como, Maggiori, Garda, Orta and so on make a great playground for the rich and famous. The Borromeo family had control of much of the area till Napoleon marched in around the year 1804. Napoleon kindly left them with the Borromean Islands on lake Maggiori. The palaces of Italy often changed hands over the centuries due to squabbles, wars and bankruptcies, but the Borromeans have managed to hold on to theirs through thick and thin to this day.

The architecture, the art, the furniture, the tapestries, the gardens have been continually maintained and developed through the centuries. Groups of about forty people are ushered through the grandeur of the Isola Bella palace and then into the terraced gardens with proud white peacocks. The vast gulf between this glittering excess and the lives of ordinary people may be obscene. But the enterprise employs a huge army of staff. The resources available to the gardening staff must make this one of the choice gigs in the country.

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The Tyrolean alps of the Sound of Music spill over from Austria into Italy. Politically it is Italy, but the food, the dress, the manners, the language and rococo church decoration are totally Austrian.

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In a church we came across the ultimate confessional. If you have something serious to confess, this is certainly the place to unburden the guilty conscience.

Access to the yodelling hilltops is by funicular railway and cable cars. The contrast between Alpine street music and Milan street music is revealed in the video clip.

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The Pinacoteca di Brera is the serious gallery of paintings in Milan established in 1809, by request of Mary Therese of Austria. Later, at the direction of Napoleon, the collection became a museum with the intention to show the most important paintings plundered by the French Army, paintings from the churches and monasteries of Lombardy were added to the collection, as were other confiscated paintings. At the heart of the Brera is a towering glass enclosed laboratory where the public can watch as master works are meticulously restored and repaired. Paintings as high as 6m are mounted vertically and the restorer sits in a comfortable work station, traversing the painting on a sort of gantry. They have only one painting by Caravaggio, but it is the brilliant Supper at Emmaus depicting the moment when the resurrected but incognito Jesus reveals himself to two of his disciples in the town of Emmaus only to soon vanish from their sight.

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Arrived in Venice in soaking rain, confronted with a sea of umbrellas. A ten-minute sodden trudge found us at our new home. And in the middle of the action, only five minutes from the Rialto. Happily, on the ground floor without any stairs at all. Ground floor in Venice is sometimes beneath the waves. In our case ground-floor is above the waves most of the time. Blocks under some of the nicer furniture and tell-tale rust marks reveal the need for caution at very high tide. There is now provision at our front door for inserting a temporary barrier. So it would be theoretically possible to open the door inward and step out over the barrier into knee deep water. Worried? Never! We have wifi and hot water in-house. Wonder what the super mart, deli and cafe will do?.

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The Venetians have ways of getting things done in spite of the difficulties imposed by the canal system. The only wheeled vehicles on the islands are wheel barrows. So, everything has to be delivered by boat, by wheel barrow or hefted over the shoulder. Building materials, groceries, tourist nick knacks, rubbish. Everything. Our personal gondola launching pad has been taken over by a team of builders. The scaffolding and planks dumped on the landing, to be man-handled away by the hard hats. The building next door seems to need roofing repairs, some four or five floors above the river – depending on whether or not the flooded basement is counted. Point is, there is nothing but water on which to base the scaffolding. The solution is to bolt the scaffolding onto the wall, about 3 floors above water level. Missed seeing them install the brackets. Sky hook? 30 ft. ladder on a row boat? You have to believe that they know what they are doing. Oc. health and safety is hard hats and waving the tourists out of the way.

Arp at the Peggy G

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In Venice for the Biennale, where artists aspiring to be best in the world come to show their wares. We come here to be challenged, confronted, educated, amused and inspired. It is exhausting work but we have succeeded. In no position to compare and contrast the value of the material. Sometimes not sure what is an installation and what is just a piece of machinery in an empty room. Some the video presentations were genuinely moving, with others, the camera might have just been accidently left running. Maybe that is actually sometimes art. Nah, don’t think so. The following notes record a few of the things that moved us.

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Ghana, the first black African country to achieve independence, this year was the first black African country to have a pavilion at the biennale. An enormous expanse of wall hanging with hundreds of thousands of tiny elements painstakingly joined with fine copper wire by a team of 25 workers. Speaks of skill, patience, persistence, cooperation and vision. In the next room photos of many proud, well-mannered, civilised matriarchs presents another aspect of Ghana culture.

At one installation, there are three large round glass topped pedestals. Shoes off, you can stand on the glass and have the optical illusion of looking through mirror glass past repeating bits and pieces down into a bottomless hole. Curiously, in the third pedestal, the bits don’t repeat and the display appears to actually end very deep beneath the floor. Optical trick or using an actual hole in the floor?

Jeppe Hein placed his sculpture out in the open. With no obvious title, the public were often not aware that it is an exhibit. Grown ups found many comfortable places to lounge and the kiddies were also impressed. Definitely art.

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A simple variation on the Moebius loop caught our eye. Ingeniously made of 2 colours of hose pipe to confuse as to what is actually happening. Again, ticks for concept, execution, confrontation and humour.

By contrast, the Polish exhibit was an actual plane turned inside out. Probably a twelve seater to give an idea of scale. The artist Roman Stanczak had been mulling over the idea of turning a plane inside out for about 30 years, mainly as a technical challenge. Eventually a plane became available and he used the exercise as a tribute to the fatalities in a presidential plane crash in Smolensk, Russia in 2010. And as a comment on the rift that troubles Polish Society.

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.Still with planes, Yin Xiuzhen constructed a believable life size copy of part of a large jet plane landing gear. On looking closely, it is mostly composed of common domestic hardware. Like little wire handles, a hair dryer and shelf brackets. Would have used a sink plunger, but Dr Who already did that. Perhaps an unusual thing for a woman artist to do, but she likes to work with kitchen bits and pieces.

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wagon heading uphill to liberty & freedom

Title of the Biennale as a whole is May you live in interesting times. The Americans titled their show Liberty. In view of their history – interesting. They showed a number of works expressing the idea of liberty as well as entrapment or slavery. The most telling exhibit was a sort of comfortably upholstered cage. The attendant laughed when it was suggested that this represents the comfortable prison in which many Americans live.

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The Russians and Italians, as usual, put on big displays. The Italians built a Labyrinth where it was possible to either focus on the art work or on how to find a way out. The Russians played the Hermitage card by way of inspiration. But clearly said we would be disappointed if we are looking for trinkets from the Winter Palace. Upstairs, a heavily emotional multi-media portrayal of the return of the tear-away prodigal son to his proud long suffering father. Downstairs, a ballet with 18 life-size shadow puppets operated by noisy hydraulic lifting shafts. Accompaniment – simply the hydraulic noise.

But is it art?

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An hour from Lucca, by a slow train following the river out into the country. Robert and Norma live high on a ridge in a villa in a village confusingly called La Villa. So high that in the morning it is above the clouds. Over a decade ago Norma bought the abandoned shell of an old house. In the course of a couple years of inspired “grand designs” activity it was transformed into their very romantic home. For us, Lucca is presently home away from home, so La Villa has become home away from home away from home. Waking to breakfast outdoors on the terrace out above the clouds. The mountains across the valley look something like a sound of music film setting. In La Villa there are two churches but no shops. The two churches compete to define Garfagnana standard time by striking the hour about three minutes apart..

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Towers, food and wine. The important Tuscan things. As in many places and cultures, the food and wine here varies from the ordinary to the sublime. The range of available Gelati flavours is mind and palate blowing. Our favourite Gelateria is La Crema Matta on Via Fillungo opposite the Torture Museum. We have become such regulars that the boss asked us to put a review on trip advisor. Sweetiepie’s favourite is Zabaglione, mine is Nocchiola con Crema Antica. We’ve been told to say Nosheeola not Knockeeola. Equally good is Dondoli in San Gimignano who twice won a gong for best gelati in the world. Chocolate and Vanilla is always good for a benchmark, and Dondoli produced the most intense death by chocolate ever. A common Tuscan tipple is Aperol spritz – Matta have even produced Aperol Spritz Gelato, Quite OK as a sorbet, but we’d usually prefer a conventional spritz.

Tiramisu is always good here. So many variations on the theme, all with thoroughly enjoyable exquisite creamy taste, but my own with Rutherglen Liqueur Muscat is still hard to beat. Current favourite cheese is a creamy soft Gorgonzola. Goes well with fine ham which the deli slices so thin it is translucent. The Chianti is jolly, sometimes cheaper than Coca Cola, comes in anything from a plastic bag up to the classic raffia wrapped bottle. Tomatoes loom large on the Italian food horizon in many forms. Came across these strange shaped tomatoes which are very tasty. Rather empty inside like a capsicum. Possibly called ‘Costoluto Genovese’.

View from atop the Guinigi tower

It seems that in Italy every self respecting Lord and tyrant must have a tower. Because they can. To impress, to imprison, for defence and for the view. In Lucca, Siena, San Gimignano, Prato and Pisa alone there were over a thousand towers in the 15^thCent. The emblem of an establishment family was their tower. The taller the better. Paolo Guinigi even had a garden with oak trees on top of his. Now open to the public, who, after climbing 232 stairs, face a sign saying (in Italian) please don’t climb the trees or stand on the wall. The video shows some of the current indoor steps. Back in the olden days the steps went up the outside. Easier defence? The families squabbled a lot way back then. The Montagues and Capulets were mild compared to some of these guys. Paolo Guinigi was locked up in prison by his enemies for being a tyrant. He died there two years later. It was normal practice for the winning family to knock down the loser’s tower. Which is one of the reasons why there are so few still standing. However, Paolo’s tower still stands, not sure if the trees are original.  What is it about this tower thing? Is it some sort of blokey phallic competition? In the video clip, these are just a few of the towers still standing. Accompanied by a couple of the resident buskers of the Anfiteatro, whose music inspired me to take a few liberties with the lighting.

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In Florence, The Uffizi, the Academia and the Duomo have their followers and enthusiasts, but for me The Bargello is a stand out benchmark for world class sculpture and decorative art. The Bargello is one of those grand old palaces that begged to be repurposed over the centuries, rather than used as a quarry for masonry as was the Coliseum in Rome. In 1261 the building now known as the Bargello served as the Palazzo del Podestà, the oldest public building in Florence. In 1574, the Medici dispensed with the function of the Podestà and housed the bargello, the police chief of Florence, in this building, hence its name. It was employed as a prison where torture and executions took place in the Bargello’s yard until they were abolished by the Grand Duke in 1786. It remained the Florentine police headquarters of the until 1859 when it became a national museum, and today, the reason for a short, day trip to Florence on a fast train.

What can be said about a fantastic fountain where water pours from the most unlikely orifices.

Me and Brutus at the Bargello

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Booked in advance on-line to by-pass the anticipated throng. As predicted, that ploy advanced us to the head of the queue. Surprisingly, there were only three people ahead of us, but the attendant made them stand aside as we were clearly much more important guests. There were many visitors, but usually only a few other people in each room

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Ah, the Donatellos of David. The bronze of the totally naked David, with a marvellous, slightly androgynous body, wearing only a pretty hat, gazing at the head of the slain Goliath. Such is the humour of his triumph that he might equally have been wearing nothing but a pair of gumboots.

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Donatellos boy David

Then there is Donatello’s famous marble take on David. This is plainly a boy on a man’s job. Nothing at all like Michelangelo’s Hero. And the boy humbly succeeded. The Bargello also has Verrocchio’s David, also brilliantly emphasising youth, in his case more the naughty little boy than the Donatello bronze

The Donatellos were the main attraction for us, but the current temporary exhibition is a long- awaited selection sculptures of Christ by Verrocchio, the master of Michelangelo. In the crucifixion, Verrocchio portrayed Christ as a strong man in a weak body. A man who has given his all and is not broken, but totally spent. Photos allowed everywhere else, but not in these rooms. In the event a photo would have been inadequate.

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This is the place to come to see the giddy heights to which the decorative arts can rise. The decoration of the massive St Paul’s cannon is surely over the top. Was this cannon something like the elegant parasol that the princess was reluctant to use, lest it get wet? Surely an enemy savaged by such a weapon should consider itself well and truly beaten.

Weapons of all sorts were the currency of the day. From Cannons down through guns and swords to the tiniest dagger, all enjoyed the finest decoration, often in ivory, sometimes in gold. Difficult to imagine who was doing all of this decoration, the time and skill involved.

Over-the-top decoration was wrought in all available media. This wall display below is an example of Majolica carried to the extreme.

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Who was the knight proudly riding into battle atop this gilt saddle with its twin golden holsters supporting elaborately hand tooled pistols. How peeved would he be to be shafted from his mount by shabby pike-man.

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Also on display, from the other end of the decorative range is this 17^th cent. set of surgical instruments resembling a precursor of the Swiss Army knife. More functional this time, but still not able to resist a little decoration.

Ghiberti and Brunelleschi submitted panels in a competition to decide who would get the contract for the high profile baptistry doors. The panels are now side by side in the Bargello. The judges awarded an equal first to both guys. The judges wanted the two to co-operate in  building the doors, but Brunelleschi sulked and retired to work out a method for building the dome of  the adjacent Duomo. Here, Sweetiepie is standing in front of the Ghiberti doors. An impromptu visit to the Duomo might have been on the cards, but the four deep queue stretching around the corner, around the next corner and out to the horizon was enough deterrent to leave something for next time.

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The Lucca Italian School

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First week of our Tuscan adventure has been given over to a week of deep immersion at the marvellous Lucca Italian school. Where the only non-Italian sound to be heard is the occasional furtive English whisper.

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The Students

Great crowd of enthusiastic students of varying ability. Myself a rank beginner and Sweetiepie an Intermediate. Outside the class-room the students gather for cultural, social and gastronomic stuff. My key phrase for the week is “sfortunamente boh” which apparently means “unfortunately no”. Somewhat reflecting the progress to date. But it has been very entertaining. Italian should be simple. I try to follow the Italian example by waving my arms about when talking. Good for the circulation and exercise, doubtful for communication and bad for knocking things over.

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Top of the Wall

Key feature of Lucca is the famous wall. Current wall is the fifth after the original Roman wall enclosing the Amphitheatre, where we now roost at the top level surveying the action below. The wall is about 5 km long, 12 metres high and for the most part about 12 metres wide. There is a wide road on top between a continuous avenue of trees. At intervals around the wall there are ten “Ballurados” – fortifications that accommodated troops, ammunition and weapons. The now grassed area of most of the Ballurados is large enough to allow football fields.

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The outside of the wall is sheer brick, surrounded originally by a moat. The inside of the wall is a grassy slope down to the inner road. Somewhere about a million 6 x 4 trailer loads of rocks and dirt would have been needed to build the wall. Not to mention the bricks – Can you imagine the sort of brick factory that would have been needed? And who did all of the sweat and blood? You choose. Slaves? Certainly! Check out & download a 471 page PDF on medieval Italian slavery. Possibly hungry serfs also helped, and maybe a few people who might have been nervous about the advancing Florentine army.

View from our apartment on high

For the next two weeks we are in a quirky artist’s apartment, high above the iconic Anfiteatro. Quite likely the best foreign accom. we have had. Ever. But there is a price to pay. The stairs are steep and narrow. No front door onto the main tourist drag, but the dark steep first two flights are enough to discourage any would be ne’er-do-well. The next flight is even steeper and narrower, so steep that it is safer to come down backwards. The final eight steps from our front door to the living area would need pitons, crampons, hard hats and ropes for proper occ. health and safety. But once inside, totally wow plus! Comfy sofas,  hammock to lie in and take in the action below, Shower – tick, kitchen – tick, fast wifi – tick, heating, cooling, bed – tick tick tick. Previous tenants were not so keen about the noise from nearby Osteleria. Hey! This is party time! and anyway, the noise eases off by 1 am. Deli, Gelati, Supermart downstairs and just ’round the corner.

The fast Lucca to Prato train stops at about 5 cities and takes only an hour. About the same time as the Belgrave to Flinders St. service at home. Spent the day in Prato with a dozen classmates from the Italian school, taking in the ancient history and the current culture. Many Melbourne people know about Prato because of the campus of Monash University here.

The sacred girdle is the deeply venerated belt of the Virgin Mary, a relic kept in the Prato Cathedral. A narrow strip of gossamer fine wool brocaded in gold thread has been for centuries the city’s most precious treasure. Legend has it the belt, consigned by the virgin to St. Thomas at the moment of her assumption, was brought to Prato from the Holy Land around 1141 by the merchant Michele and donated on his deathbed to the church. Very soon the relic became the subject of extraordinary veneration. Outside the cathedral is a copy of an immense pulpit designed by Donatello and Michelozzo depicting the story of the belt. Five times a year the girdle is displayed to thousands of the devout from the pulpit on high. Down in the crypt, the remains of the real pulpit can be seen by the public, along with a copy of the girdle displayed under the pictorial narrative of the event painted by Bernado Daddi around 1337. The real girdle is kept somewhere secret in a strongbox locked with three keys.

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Sleek train down to Rome, which goes as fast as 300km/h when the quality of the track allows. From base camp off Via Veneto, around the corner from the American embassy, planned to just walk around and see what happens. Lots of tiny cars parking in impossible places. Have to get very skilled at un-parking. The pic is a Photoshop synthesis of a real situation. Physically, couldn’t actually photograph both ends of the middle car at the same time.

Leave a normal space between cars, and when you return there will be a motor bike or Twizy in the space.. The Twizy is a little Renault which makes a Smart car look like a truck. Carries one person, no passengers. Deluxe version has folding windows. Intermediate has no windows and the standard version has no doors. But it did attract more attention than a nearby Lamborghini. A reviewer who was lent one said he would prefer a bike.

Settled on a nice little nearby restaurant, Locanda Bocca for everyday evening food. Lasagne, spaghetti, scaloppini and baked yellowtail made by a real Italian Momma out the back. Through the day it is just prosciutto, olives, cheese and tomatoes with funny bread from a cute deli in the next street. Lots of fancy boutique shops, but they don’t seem to be big on department stores. The mild spring weather encourages mooching about the streets or just sitting in cafes doing coffee and gelato. People here, as anywhere, make such a marvellous zoo-like passing parade.

Caught the underground over to the Colosseum for a bit of tourist flavour. Difficult to appreciate the normal scene as there were an additional 60,000 people milling about on a breast cancer awareness walk. The Colosseum? Yep, it’s big, maybe even bigger than the ‘G’, certainly higher. And all around, the touts are selling stuff. This year the item of preference is coloured selfie sticks. The ticket sellers get around on Segways.

When in Rome, don’t do as the tourists do. Bought on-line tics for the Vatican museum. Happily avoiding the worst of the queues, got straight in to the action. However, although forcing time-slots for tickets, a sardine-like density of people is allowed in. In the Sistine Chapel the whispering from the sheep-pen of the densely packed crowd would steadily increase till the loud P.A. announcement “Silenzio. No Photos”.

Grand pope mobile

The most memorable part of the Vatican visit was a display of Pope Mobiles over the ages. From people powered to horse powered to an assortment of exotic motor vehicles with accommodation for one person on a throne in place of the back bench seat. He was also given a very limited edition Ferrari Formula 1, which was auctioned for charity.

humble pope mobile

They say there are 7.2 kilometres of galleries in the Vatican Museum. Found the density of people along the way exhausting. Nowhere to sit and ponder. Mopping the brow, asked a guard if he minded if I sat on the floor. Beckoning me to follow, he unclipped a barrier and pointed to a comfy chair, indicating that I could take my good time. One of the benefits of looking old, I guess. Couldn’t help smiling a little as the envious tide of young and old swept by. Imagine that the pope might have similar feelings from time to time.

A less crowded visit to San Pietro at seven in the morning, accompanied by the devout and the true believers. Marvelled at the grandeur of the architecture and the Swiss guard with their Halberds.

Shortly after the Borghese family relocated from Siena to Rome, Camillo Borgese was appointed as Pope Paul V. And friends and family found themselves in positions of advantage. A nephew of Paul V – Scipione Caffarelli was named as Cardinal and set about establishing Villa Borghese, an extensive garden estate with a palace and gallery. Arrangements for visiting the Borghese gallery are much more civilised. People/art ratio just right. Brilliant collection of the best of the 16^th and 17^th centuries. Particularly impressed by the Raffaellos, Carravagios, Berninis and more. Our favourite is the Bernini where Pluto, God of the underworld is set on having his way with the sweet Proserpina. Convincingly, Pluto’s fingers can be seen to press into the yielding milky marble flesh of the fair maiden.

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The Opera of the moment was Alban Berg’s Lulu. Composed in 1937 in 12 tone style, it doesn’t have recognisable catchy tunes, but it is emotionally very engaging and powerful. As is the story line. Lulu, you see, is a free spirit who drives all of the men to distraction. Lulu having an affair with a countess doesn’t help matters. The men die of heart attacks or by being shot. Lulu and the countess are stabbed to death by Jack the Ripper. Really. Lots of counterpoint surrealist action. A great show, although there were times through the three hour performance when we wished they would just get on with it.

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The Trevi fountain is so romantic. Spring was in the air. The crowd were joyfully doing selfies and throwing coins in the fountain. €3,000 a day is collected and given to Caritas. In the short time that we were there, the crowd applauded as a proposal of marriage was accepted. Marvellous vibe. Continue reading →

The following pics and video extracts allow a peek at some of the things that could be seen in the course of a couple of days at the 2017 Biennale at the Giardini and the Arsenale in Venice.

New Zealand offered an animated history of the invasion by the British

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Tracy Moffat’s photographic sequences encouraged creation of a personal narrative.

Cop and Baby

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By train from Vienna. Up the hill to Innsbruck. Through the yodelling country and the Brenner Pass, and down past the Dolomites and grape growers into Venice. We all know that Venice has lived for over a thousand years in a converted swamp, but it still comes as a surprise on coming out of the train station to not see any roads, busses and taxis. Instead, a tangle of boats bouncing on choppy green waves smelling of the sea and fish. A thirty-minute ride on Vaporetto No. 4.1 lands us at the Arsenale terminal, a short walk from our Airbnb home for the week. Wifi, tick etc. etc.

Venice rule #3 – “Those who walk naked down the streets and fields can be fined.” Venice rule #5 – “The dirty dog must have a master who cleans.” On the island there are, of course, no cars. As well, cycles, skate boards and skates are forbidden. The trams, trains and motor vehicles that use the causeway between the mainland and the island are all quarantined in a sort of marshalling car park. Contrary to Vienna, where people are quiet and orderly, at the tram terminal a crush of boarding passengers tries unsuccessfully to enter the tram before the sardines on board can dismount. The low slung three carriage trams curiously only have one rail. We think the rail is use for electricity and guidance and that they must have bus tyres secreted somewhere.

In Peggy’s Garden

Had the good fortune to meet up with old friends Norma and Corrie and their ex-pat friends who all have real estate here. They introduced us to Aperol spritzers at the Glass house, Squid ink pasta, proper tira-mi-su and the good life. Ellen, a Dutch woman, has a sculpture exhibit at Palazzo Mora in an event associated with the Biennial. Requested a route from Maps.me to take us from home to Palazzo Mora, half an hour walk away. All good until the dotted line crossed a canal where there was no bridge. We didn’t reach the Mora on that day, but with the benefit of woman’s intuition we did find our way home.

A couple of days later, took advantage of a Vaporetto day ticket to visit Peggy Guggenheim’s collection on the other side of the canal. Although she died over thirty years ago, her collection of surrealist, abstract and impressionist art continues to grow. Many of the works by Pollock, Picasso, Klee, Kandinsky, Chagall, Brancusi, Braque, Rothko, Giacometti and husband Max Ernst that she collected soon after the war are still on show. Then on to the Mora to seek out Ellen’s sculpture.

Ellen’s Sculpture

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In and around Berlin we had our fill of Grand Royal palaces. Winter palaces, summer palaces, palaces for the Empress, palaces for the kiddies, palaces to impress the neighbours. But in the end, as Frederick the Great said, “A crown is just a hat that lets the rain in”. The monarchy went steadily downhill and people found other ways to amuse themselves.

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On our last night in Berlin, what better preparation for travelling back to the Vienna of the golden days than replaying a DVD of The Sound of Music? The train trip to Vienna gave us ten hours, travelling at up to 220 km/h, to build up anticipation of the good old days. Many things in Vienna have been put back just the way they were before the war. Try to ignore Starbucks, McDonalds, Subway and Bodyshop – concentrate on the elegant boulevards.

Gave the taxi driver the address of our Airbnb apartment. A quarter hour later he stopped outside what appeared to be a disused plumbing shop. In disbelief, I looked up and down the street for something more promising. Sweetiepie had more faith in the system. The hostess, Christina had sounded so helpful. There was, however, a combination lock on the door pillar and the given code allowed entry. In the mid 19^th cent. Ferd. Schremmer established a plumbing business in a Biedermeier style complex. A pair of shops sat either side of a carriageway that gave onto a spacious garden courtyard. The residence above and around the courtyard has now been turned into comfortable Airbnb apartments. We were guests above while below, the plumbing business still operates at a very gentle pace.

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Returning to the 19^th floor apartment of Uta and Andreas on Leipzig Strasse after three years was just like coming home. The Augustiner beer hall around the corner and the Brandenburg gate a ten minute walk away, Lidl downstairs for breakfast supplies and spring in the air.

in the Reichstag Dome

Entry to the spectacular Norman Foster designed dome of the Reichstag is free, but the price to pay is a long wait in a queue to gain entry in two days time or on-line booking for three weeks hence. Worth the wait. Marvellous views and a history of the site. The automatic audio guide comments on the view from wherever you are standing and prompts you when to move on. The building is said to be ultra enviro-friendly. Apparently rain and snow can’t enter the enormous hole in the centre of the top of the dome because of the force of exhaust from the ventilation system. Seems to work, because there is no evidence of weather damage on the polished wooden seats inside the dome.

The bear of the Berlin coat-of-arms appears life size around the streets in many media and guises.

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On this quick whizz through Amsterdam, managed to avoid the famous red light district in favour of the slightly less famous Rembrandt house or huis. He was able to buy the house at the height of his career following the famous Night Watch commission. A later commission Conspiracy of the Batavians was not so successful.

His Burgher clients were not impressed by his venture into what was later known as impressionism, refusing to accept the work. Rembrandt angrily took a knife to the painting, the remains of which are now displayed at the Rijks Museum. He didn’t entirely fall from favour, but he was unable to pay the mortgage on the impressive huis. The house and contents were sold to satisfy the creditors. The list of contents compiled by the creditors enabled later restoration of the house as it was in Rembrandts time. Continue reading →

In coming to Granada, the focus of our Andalucian campaign was to visit the fabled Alhambra. Fabled, due to the very popular Tales of the Alhambra written by Washington Irving in 1829. He was an adventurous writer and diplomat (American ambassador to Spain) with an entertaining economy of truth. When Irving visited and stayed in Alhambra it was a romantic ruin that had been trashed by Napoleon when he was forced to retreat from Spain. Irving’s writings put Alhambra on the tourist map and the Spanish government undertook repairs.

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Cordoba is the loveliest place at this time of year. Busloads of tourists are easily swallowed up and dispersed among cute little blue and white alleyways. There is always space at the corner tavernas and cafes to sit, lean back, close the eyes, and after a pause, open the eyes, lean forward, enjoy a café con leche or copa rosada and repeat. There is little sign of plant life along the tall narrow streets except the occasional window box of geraniums. Continue reading →

The move from Morocco back to the other side of the Med was quite easy as we are travelling light this trip. Encumbered more by technology than underwear. Touched down in Malaga for a couple of days. In a strange town, why is it that I am always attracted first to the Cathedral/Mosque/whatever? From the perspective of a bloke, it is probably fascination at the technical challenges, rather than being overwhelmed by the spiritual element or Stendhalismo at the beauty of the art-work. Sweetiepie thinks that better use could have been made of resources if more attention had been given to health, education and welfare of the poor and less to the grand architecture. But then, if they had been better educated, they mightn’t have been so inclined to spend lifetimes chipping and stacking stones. And we wouldn’t have anything to remember them by.

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High on the *Buttock list has been a return to Barcelona. The intent was to reprise all of the delights of a visit 15 years ago. Of course some things have changed. The mantra – “Barcelona, Ah, beware the pickpockets!” has not changed. But this is an orderly, polite, high tech city. Where the trains are clean, cheap, frequent and punctual. Arrival of trains is accurately counted down in seconds in Barcelona, rather than the vague, sometime today, expectation of Melbourne trains. When young (30ish) people in crowded trains rise to give us their seats, we are reluctant to admit to such venerability, but politeness dictates acceptance. What a lovely place.

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The Germans are famous for being good organisers rather than good lovers or good cooks. But being good followers gets them into trouble from time to time. Think WW II. More recently the lack of progress on the new Berlin airport has been an embarrassment. Since ground was first broken in 2006, almost everything that could go wrong with Europe’s largest airport construction project has gone wrong. Just three and a half weeks before the grand opening ceremony, with posters already up around the city, came the announcement that the fire safety system wasn’t working, and the airport’s first flight would be delayed indefinitely. It emerged that the person in charge wasn’t an engineer, but people thought he was, so he didn’t bother to contradict them. The project has already gone a staggering €3.5 billion over budget, and the latest bail-out will push costs to almost €6 billion. Completion not in view at all.

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Ah Berlin! Where beer is cheaper than water. Staying in a 19^th floor apartment on Leipziger Strasse for 2 weeks. Midway between the Brandenburg gate and Check point Charlie, near to the action. So prosperous and trendy, so much to see and do. Food options range from donner kebab street food to classy restaurants and a Lidl supermarket next door. Must say the transition from Salmon and single malt to Sausage, kraut and beer is a bit of a jolt, but we are managing nicely.

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