Tour 2008

Whitechapel Bell Foundry

2008-10-20T18:53:00.000-07:00

Saturday afternoon I booked a tour at the Whitechapel Bell foundry. Whitechapel is a area immediately east of the City (London proper, which is actually quite small). The Bell Foundry is the oldest continuously operating business in the UK, started in 1570, but has roots even a bit further back into the mid 1400's. They cast bells of all descriptions and sizes, from small bells for doors, to big bells for tower clocks.

The owner was showing us around, he's the third generation of the current owners, and has worked in many of the workshops at the foundry. It has been located here since the mid 1700's, and the building is designated heritage building, so can't be modified too much. Sloping wooden floors, open rafters, steep narrow stair-cases, and 'primitive' conditions are the order of the day. In the casting room there were three bells which had been cast on Friday and were still warm on Sunday. These are medium sized bells of between one and two tons each.

Tuning bells is tricky. They're cast to be flatter than the pitch desired and then tuned 'up.' If they go to high, there's no way to bring the pitch down. Larger bells have five dominant tones, and after being cast the five tones can be out of tune by different amounts. To bring all the tones to the correct pitch at the same time, material is removed from the bell at different points on the inside of the bell, using a giant lathe.

Whitechapel also make handbells for choirs. They actually make a set which is the full range of a piano. These are cast in a different way, cut on the lathe to bring close to pitch, and then polished to a high finish that brings it to perfect pitch. This is the only section of the factory that is air-conditioned -- the hot summers have driven the temperature in the attic (where they finish the bells) so high that the accuracy of the pitch was being affected. The owner joked (sorta) that the priority was the bells, not the comfort of the staff!

It's rather neat to see the workshop with bells of all sizes just stacked like cord-wood. Many are old bells being brought in for 'service.' Bells don't require repairs or service in the usual sense; unless they crack or break, they're good for ever. But often the pitch was not accurate, and they're brought in for tuning accurately using modern equipment. The other task is removing the yokes on old bells for more secure mounting. The yokes are liable to breakage, and are also no suitable for change ringing.

Whitechapel has been making bells for all over the world. The new set of bells of St. James Cathedral in Toronto was a recent installation. One of their biggest bells at 11 tons was installed in Montreal, and the biggest and most famous bell is Big Ben, at over 13 tons.

London

2008-10-18T01:07:00.000-07:00

I've been in London since Thursday, staying at the Anglican Communion office in Westbourne Park. Thursday and Friday much of the day was spent at the British Library doing some research, and in the evenings I went to a number of plays Everything is very expensive in London, with the exception of theatre, which you can see at a reasonable price.

Thursday night was a new version of Noel Coward's 'Brief Encounter,' a rather successful integration of elements of film with stage. The actors provided the spoken parts and singing, but also playing instruments for accompaniment. Other parts of the play were projected on a screen, in the style of the original movie.

Six Characters in Search of an Author is about six characters from an unfinished novel who appear to a different writer, wanting her to finish the book so they can be 'complete.' This version, based on Pirandello's orginal, blurs the lines between fantasy and reality. "So many layers it would give an onion an inferiority complex!" was one review. Instead of being an author, this one is a video producer doing a documentary about a euthanasia clinic. The broadcaster doesn't think it's 'authentic' enough, so they hire actors to impersonate the original family. That's when the six lost characters come in.

My last night in London I went to see "French & Saunders: The Final Farewell Tour." If you don't know them, it's the comedy duo of Dawn French (well-known for Vicar of Dibley) and Jennifer Saunders (Absolutely Fabulous). They're hugely popular in the UK, and I was lucky to get a single ticket at Theatre Royal Drury Lane (or as they say, Dreary Lane). It's one of the biggest theatres in London, and it was all-but-sold-out.

Township 2

2008-10-18T00:58:00.000-07:00

There’s a huge but marginal economy in the shack-towns. People living in the townships often have real jobs (Brian himself lives in a township), but many of the shack-dwellers do not, so some are creating local enterprises. Many shacks lining the roadways are selling food, clothing, furniture, etc., car repair and washing, lots of barber and hairdressing, and cell phones. The ‘better’ shops are in shipping containers, which provide a secure space. Others are just in shacks with an open front.

In quite a few places we saw women cooking food on the site of the road. Open fires with pans of meat or vegetables cooking. Brian explained that meat is fairly expensive, but most people expect to have it – it’s a normal part of their diet from where they come. So, when money is scarce, you end up eating the ‘less desirable’ cuts. We saw piles of sheep’s heads: they’re cleaned of all the wool and then boiled whole. The meat and the broth are supposedly tasty – we didn’t try it. When the head is cooked, the skin shrinks a lot, so when it’s finished, the skin is pulled back from the mouth, which is why they’re called ‘Smileys.’ The other thing that’s common is cooking chicken heads and feet: the local term is apparently “Walkie-Talkies.”

We visited four households in the township: Vicky’s Bed and Breakfast, a three-guest-room B&B right in the middle of the township. She’s built a second storey to accommodate guests, and has been in operation for a couple of years. It’s rough but look comfortable, and she’s making a go of it.

Behind the B&B is a nursery school for children from infants to age 5. There are three rooms, four adults, and about 40 children. The older ones are already wearing uniforms in anticipation of going to school in the next term. It’s hectic and it’s packed, but the alternative is for the mother to not work. Apparently there is still a widely held belief that a man with AIDS can be cured by having sex with a virgin, so young girls are particularly vulnerable.

Across the road we met Beauty, who used to work in the garment industry in Cape Town. That industry has collapsed much like the Canadian equivalent, under the pressure of cheap imports. She’s now running a small sewing business form her house, and is teaching others how to sew as well.

Golden used to be a miner, but now has a craft shop where he makes artificial flowers out of scrap metal – usually pop cans. He sells them to tourists, and has begun wholesaling them to gift and souvenir shops in Cape Town. Demand has increased such that he now pays local children to retrieve pop cans out of the refuse bins in the area.

It’s hard not to feel voyeuristic when you’re seeing all this from the safety and comfort of a tourist van. Brian (and the others) said they value and welcome the visitors, it helps share the stories and also brings business. At the same time the poverty and deprivation are very hard to see and walk away from. There is a high degree of crime (apparently giving credence to all the bars and razor-wire), and most of the townships and settlements have to deal with gangs. Yet throughout we saw people engaged in conversation, laughing and smiling amongst themselves; adults and children smiled and waved at us as we drove through, without a hint of resentment, hostility, or even opportunity for a hand-out. This relative peace may be shortlived, however. Cape Town is hosting the FIFA world cup semi-finals in 2010, and there’s huge pressure to ‘tidy up’ the town. Many of the settlements are near the airport, and the city is trying to move people out, especially in the shacks adjacent to the highways. Additionally, there are lots of promises of building new housing, but it’s going painfully slowly.

Township 1

2008-10-18T00:20:00.000-07:00

My last day in Cape Town was remarkable because we decided to do something less typically touristy (although we had a tour guide for it). Rebekah and I went for a township tour. Brian, our tour guide was born in District Six, a large neighbourhood adjacent to the downtown that, up until the 1960’s was a mix of black, white, mixed, Jewish, Christian, Muslim, short and tall. You get the idea. Although perhaps sentimentalized, the pictures and text at the District Six museum show a neighbourhood that was vibrant, alive, and appeared to get along. The apartheid government of the time decreed that this should become a white neighbourhood; the goal being to make the city white and move all the non-whites to the suburbs and beyond. Systematically, residents were forced out and relocated to the townships – new neighbourhoods that were designated for blacks or coloureds. As they moved out, the houses were razed by bulldozers. The only buildings that escaped were several churches and mosques, and a handful of businesses that were on the edges, facing the existing white neighbourhoods. The picture above shows the field that was District Six.

The site of District Six remains empty except for those few churches and mosques – no new development has taken place in the intervening 40 years. Because of the unrest of the time, and the resistance by the residents, no one has taken up the offer of developing the area. Whether through solidarity with the removed residents, or from fear of retribution, potential residents never arrived, and except for a few cobbled sections of street and bits of foundations and steps, the area is grassland – not even shacks have been built. There is a growing demand for former residents to be returned to the area into new housing, and one housing complex of about 24 townhouses has been built for the most senior of the former District Six residents.

Most black and coloured (again, these are the Cape Town terms – people use them to describe themselves) live in the townships, areas specifically designated and created for them by the apartheid government. Formal townships tend to consist of streets with small houses closely packed along them. Informal settlements spring up all over on unoccupied lands. Sometimes these are strips of land alongside the road – eight or ten feed wide – others consists of hectares of tiny shacks made of scrap sheet metal, wood, cardboard or whatever comes to hand. The ‘street’s are little more than walkways between them. The largest township “name” consists of both formal and informal housing, and has a population of over a million.

Proper houses consist of two or three rooms, usually with electricity, water, and sewage (although this may be shared by other houses). Most of the shacks have no facilities, and draw water from a communal tap, use portable out-houses, and heat and cook with kerosene. Because of the huge fire hazard, the city has started providing electrical service. The extraordinary thing too, is that the city is designating land for shacks, by laying water lines, sewage pipes (the toilet it attached to the pipe, but the out-house isn’t built by the city, so you come across these toilets sitting in an open area), and electric poles in anticipation of people building shacks. Thousands of people arrive every week to the settlements – Brian showed us a whole area that didn’t exist the week before.

Tour of the Cape

2008-10-18T00:11:00.000-07:00

Cape Town itself is at the northern end of a peninsula that extends down to Cape Point and the Cape of Good Hope. Much of it's very southern end is a national park. Cape Point is a high promontory with a light-house at the top. The height meant it could be seen about 60 km off shore, but only when there was no cloud cover. Too often, low clouds would block the light. Another light was built lower down.

Cape of Good Hope is more of a rocky beach, near the Cape Point.

Stellenbosch is a very pretty town east of Cape Town, renowned for its vineyards. We stopped for a very nice wine-tasting; I'm lugging two bottles home.

African penguins are unique to this part of the coast, and are distinct from those found in Antarctica.

The baboons are wild, and are frequently by the road. They'll beg food, and can get quite aggressive, even climbing through windows into cars or opening car doors.

Aquila Safari part 2

2008-10-13T12:29:00.001-07:00

Seems like Blogger only allows a limited number of photos -- next time I'll put them on flickr. Spot the lion in the first picture. The rhinos are getting excited. Those are Springboks and Ostriches in the third. And I swear thoze zebras were angling to get their best side for that picture!

Aquila Safari

2008-10-13T12:23:00.001-07:00

Aquila is a private game reserve (i.e., it is not a government-run operation), that is about two hours north of Cape Town. We were picked up at 5:15 A.M. for the trip out, along with eight other guests. We were greeted at the reserve with champagne and a delicious hot breakfast. Afterward, we clambered into the land rovers for three hours of trekking across 5,000+ hectares. The pictures tell the best story, aside from the delight of seeing the young elephants, zebras, rhinos, and springboks. There were only a few elephants and rhinos, one giraffe, many zebras, and countless springboks. And, we did see the springboks springing across the veldt; Geordie would’ve had fun chasing them, but I doubt he would’ve taken one down!

After a very nice lunch with lamb pie, vegetable stew, rice and beans, potatoes, and more, Rebekah and I embarked on a horse-back ride with two guides. We covered some of the same area and animals, but it was quite a different experience. Neither of us had been on horseback since we were kids, so it was a gentle ride!

Table Mountain

2008-10-13T12:16:00.000-07:00

Table Mountain is the backdrop to Cape Town, and forms a long, almost flat-topped ridge flanked by several peaks on either side; the silhouette of these symbolizes Cape Town throughout South Africa. The seventeen to the west are called the Twelve Apostles.

The cable-car to the top is the first I’ve ever been in where the floor rotates!

The view from the top is amazing. We couldn’t see to the Cape of Good Hope becaue of the low clouds, which were actually below where we were.

A mist comes in from the Indian Ocean and moves across the plateau of the mountains. As it descends on the Atlantic side it forms a cloud that rolls over the edge and down the face a short distance before evaporating; a phenomenon called ‘the tablecloth.’

First real day of Tourism in Cape Town

2008-10-13T12:11:00.000-07:00

Today, Sunday, was the first real day of visiting Cape Town like a tourist. Rebekah, my colleague from work who was also attending Congress, and I have planned three days of exploring Cape Town and this part of South Africa.

We got tickets for the Hop-on-Hop-off bus tour that goes throughout the town, and first visited Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. Wonderful collection of flowers, trees, and cycads.

The gardens were donated by Rhodes, of scholarship, De Beers Diamonds, and Rhodesia fame. When he died a "confirmed bachelor" (and we know what that meant in the old days), he was one of the richest men in the world, and left the bulk of his estate to the state. Spending the morning in the warm sunshine and amongst the beautiful gardens was a real tonic after several days of meetings.

A few pics of Cape Town.

2008-10-13T12:06:00.000-07:00

Here are a few more pics of Cape Town, taken from a walk up Lion's Head. The clouds billowing over the '12 Apostles' is further up the shore from Sea Point. Table Mountain overlooks the city, and on the very peak of it, you can see the top station of the cable car.

Cape Town

2008-10-10T14:13:00.000-07:00

Here are a few pictures from around Cape Town. Me at the revolving restaurant at the "Top of the Ritz," aka the vertical hav-a-nap. A nice old dutch-style house in Cape Town, with the S.A. flags flying in a stiff breeze. Downtown Cape Town and the Old Slave Church; built in 1803 it was a mission for education and emancipation of slaves. The two other pictures are the music-and-dance troupe that kicked off the final day of Congress with about an hour of African music. I don't have the name of the group in the original language, but it translated as 'Rainbow,' as the members and the music are from throughout Africa. In one picture they are playing horns made from the horn of the Antelope. At one point they invited audience members to come up and join them. Of course, i went, and was given one of these horns. The woman int he middle coached me, and I managed to get some squaks out of it, but not exactly melodious. Take a lot of wind (no comments, please!). Some friends have pictures of me on stage, so I'll add those when they get sent to me.

Robben Island, Cape Town

2008-10-09T14:14:00.000-07:00

Wednesday afternoon was spent at Robben Island, the prison island just off Cape Town. Originally built as a leper colony and later used as a military station, it became a prison in the Apartheid era specifically for ‘Coloureds and Blacks.’ The ‘Whites’ were in another prison on the mainland. The racial divides were maintained here in the strangest ways: Coloureds got a better ration of food, as well as winter clothes; the Blacks got a simpler diet (and less of it), as well as only short pants and short-sleeve shirts (even for winter). Apparently long pants were handed out in the event of Red Cross visits. Men slept 80 to a dorm, with no mattresses or beds: only two quilted blankets each, one serving as a mat and the other as the blanket.

The quarry is where all prisoners worked five days a week. Most got lung and eye disease from the limestone dust and glare off the white rock. The prisoners worked out a system for talking here, since this was the only place in which they were watched from some distance: they would work in groups of five to eight and while the two end men actually worked the rock face, the others in between would fake their work. The noise would from the two workers would cover the conversation of the others.

One building was purpose-built for a single prisoner: Robert Sobukwe, the initiator of one of the first uprisings in the 1960’s, the burning of identity cards required only by ‘Coloureds and Blacks.’ This non-violent protest eventually sparked major clashes between protesters and police, and Sobukwe was imprisoned. The sentence was life solitary confinement, and he was refused any social interaction. Not even his guards were allowed to speak with him.

The main prison block is where Nelson Mandela was kept. This part of the tour was actually guided by former prisoners of Robben island. They, in fact, were major forcesin having the island declared a heritage site. Our guide was Mr. Sparks, who was arrested and imprisoned for inciting resistance to Apartheid, and was there for some eight years. He took us into his own dorm. Adjoining the dorm were the washroom facilities: two toilets, urinal trough, three showers, and five sinks for eighty men. Only cold water, even in winter.

Nelson Mandela had a solitary cell, about ten foot square. Only two mats, bucket for a toilet, and a table and chair. No heat. Our capacity for cruelty, domination, and humiliation seems to be boundless.

The catamaran ferry that takes you to Robben Island is called ‘Sikhululekile,’ which means “We are free now.”

Gugulethu Township

2008-10-09T14:12:00.001-07:00

The mid-point of the conference was a break-away from the sessions and learning groups. The first half of the day was a visit to Gugulethu Township. When Apartheid was enacted, Blacks and Coloureds (the official S.A. term for anyone of Asian or ‘mixed’ racial background) were forcibly removed to settlements isolated from the Whites. Gugulethu is about half-an-hour from Cape Town, and is a dense neighbourhood of houses, shops, churches, businesses, etc. In contrast to the so-called ‘informal settlement’s which are the corrugated metal shanty-towns, Gugulethu seems almost middle-class, but it is certainly not wealthy or even comfortable.

We were hosted by the Gugulethu Presbyterian Church. Note in the picture that all the windows are barred, and the church is surrounded by a high metal fence with razor wire on top. This is typical of most houses and buildings in many parts of Cape Town. Even low walls that can be easily climbed over will have strips of sharp metal spikes protruding from the top to discourage people from hopping over, or even sitting on the wall. It’s really unclear whether there is a serious safety threat this is meant to address, or is more symbolic of security and a siege mentality. I’ve wandered around a bit in our neighbourhood, and not felt at risk at all, but all the nearby houses are protected like this.

Pastor Mzukisi at the church in Gugulethu did speak of the social conditions, noting that the poverty is now wreaking more damage on the social fabric than the remnants of Apartheid. Adding to the problem is the HIV AIDS pandemic, in which one in four deaths in Africa is now attributable to AIDS. With so few resources, medication and medical care are beyond reach when there isn’t enough money for basics such as food, shelter, and clothing. A member of the church spoke about her diagnosis with HIV, her struggles with the stigma, and trying to get the money for medication. We also heard from an older woman who grew up during the Apartheid era and was resettled numerous times, eventually settling in Guglethu.

The whole Apartheid ethic was based on eugenics, much like Grant and I saw on exhibit in Ottawa at the War Museum. Here they used a number of simple measurements to determine where a person fell in the race spectrum from white to black. It wasn’t about blood lines as much as about appearance. We heard of a story where two brothers, children of a mixed marriage (married before Apartheid outlawed such relationships), were determined to be of different races and segregated because one had characteristics of the white mother, and the other characteristics of the black father. The system ruled where you could live, work, and travel, your education and work, and relationships. And somehow it was rationalized to be, well, rational.

Like churches everywhere, Gugulethu Presbyterian runs on the sweat of the women. About the same time we arrived (about 300 of us) a dozen women also arrived bearing the makings of the meal. While we listened to the ministers and the to stories of Koleka and Nonkosi, the other women were cooking up a storm. We had a great meal of rice and bean, carrots and greens, and some kind of curry. The women sang African hymns and danced in a tight circle while we were eating. Everyone does seem very warm and friendly, interested in hearing about Canada and places far away, and despite the hardships seem to have a joy in life.

Tuesday Congress

2008-10-09T14:10:00.000-07:00

Today started off much cooler and over-cast after last night’s spectacular sunset. Day two of the Congress was very full with a number of films and speakers. The first session was on gender justice with Joanne Sandler giving a great discussion on media and gender justice. Pretty hard for women to get a fair shake in the media, when over 80% of reporters and commentators are men. She had a whole series of clips from TV about Hilary Clinton, and how she was portrayed in the media. She also had a collage of print images of Hilary that made her look anything from stupid to viscous. I’m not a Hilary fan, but when a TV commentator says he automatically crosses his legs when he sees her on TV, (and that’s one of the milder segments) it’s a bit over the top. Thank you Fox.

The second session was a film and discussion, based on the film “Shock Waves.” It profiled the work of Radio Okapi in Democratic Republic of Congo that was challenging the actions of the government and uncontrolled militia that were barricading traffic on the Congo river and extorting money from the locals for traveling along the river. The use of advocacy journalism combined with broadcast media put pressure on the government and military, but also helped mobilize the people into effective resistance; at huge risks to radio-jouranlists. The film was really well done, won numerous awards and was produced with support from the CBC and TeleFilm Canada; something we Canadians can be proud of!

The other film was supposed to be followed by a discussion, but that didn’t really happen because the film literally left most of the audience speechless. “Sometimes in April” chronicled the Rwandan genocide through a fictional family, from the ethnic tension created when the Belgians colonists left, through the rising hatred and mistrust to the eventual massacre of close to 100,000 people. Many parts of the film were taken from authentic sources, but woven together into a narrative. Julienne M. who works at WACC and is from Rwanda, introduced the film and told a bit of her own story of escape and loss of many friends and members of her family.

Cape Town Day One

2008-10-06T13:45:00.001-07:00

What a long flight, although the service was great. I’d recommend Air-Berlin anytime. But 12 hours in a plane is more than any human-being should endure.

The Congress 2008 for World Assoc. for Christian Communication began today. Many people have been here since Saturday to enjoy Capetown and get over their jet-lag. Lots of them had longer trips than 12 hours.

The opening sessions was full of speeches, the usual formal welcoming stuff. The highlights, however, was a honouring of a dozen people who had worked tirelessly during the apartheid years, using their skills in communication and media to help overthrow that system. Doreen Spence from Canada was the key-note speaker, talking about Aboriginal issues. And the morning was topped off by a short address by Desmond Tutu. He’s a marvelous storyteller, speaker, and preacher.

I attended a couple of workshops this afternoon, but honestly don’t remember much about them. The travel fatigue set in big-time around 2:00 p.m., so I was running on empty.

The sunset is from my window on the 16th floor of the Ritz. I don’t think it’s that chain of hotels, though. Quality-wise, it’s more like a motel than a high-end hotel. But the view is spectacular. The two photographs show the rise of land going to the left toward Table-Top mountain. I’ve had no opportunity to explore the city, and probably won’t until much later in the week.

Munich

2008-10-06T13:41:00.000-07:00

What a difference a day makes. Between it warming up a bit, the sun shining in a faultless blue sky, enjoying a much better tour and meeting some people on the tour, Munich glows!

The day dawned bright and clear, and after a light breakfast I headed over to the Marienplatz, with the idea of doing a half-day tour to Dachau, which is only outside of Munich. Unfortunately, the tour takes about 4 ½ - 5 hours, so that would make it difficult to make the train to the airport. What to do? The viewing platform at the top of the townhall tower beckoned, and on a clear day like this the view should be spectacular. It didn’t disappoint. Munich at your feet and the Alps lining the southern horizon. Also, the Glockenspiel is right above the viewing platform, and the bells, although louder, are much clearer and the music more melodious. Maybe the tour-guides should take a visit up there.

On descending, I saw one of the tour groups heading out from the Marienplatz, and asked to join them. It was a straight-forward walking tour of the city, like I tried to do yesterday, but this was with another comany. It turned out to be wonderful. The guide was well informed, didn’t try to be the comedian, and took us all over the city. The group was congenial, and I met some guys from Seattle (we later had lunch together) and a couple from Texas, the woman of which came originally from New Brunswick (her accent belied her roots, though; she had more drawl than Bush!).

Surfers are not only to be found in California, but also in central Munich. Who knew? A part of the river goes through a narrow channel, and a barrier makes a strong crest in the fast-moving water. There were about a dozen guys in wet-suits taking turns jumping into the river on their boards and riding the crest. They rode the crest back and forth across the width of the river (only about 30 feet), but stayed on the top of the crest. As soon as one fell over and floated down past the crest, another guy threw his board in and landed right on top of it, on the crest. Quite the scene, and not what you’d expect in Bavaria in October!

We finished the tour near the Viktualenmarkt, and three of us – Travis, John, and I headed over to the Hofbrauhaus, for lunch. They are on stop-over on the way to India for their third long vacation in that part of the world. John commented that tourists either love India or hate it; there’s almost no middle ground! Some day!Beer is only available in litre mugs, and we each had ‘typical’ Bavarian fare. An older couple a the end of our table joined our conversation and told us a bit about living in Munich. Seems most sensible Munichers stay away from Oktoberfest. Some millions of people come here over the two weeks. They had spent the day ‘in town’ and were having lunch before heading home.

Apparently I had committed a bit of a faux-pas by trying to eat my Oktoberfest cookie – the big heart-shaped gingerbread cookie at the hotel. Purely decorative! People walk all over Munich with these on strings around their necks during Oktoberfest, but don’t eat them. And with good reason. The woman beside us congratulated me on having such good teeth, as many a tooth has been broken on them!

I’m at Munich airport, and waiting for the flight to be called. All looks well, and it should be a good, though long flight. We leave at 6:10 p.m on Sunday and arrive in Capetown at 5:30 a.m. on Monday.

Munich

2008-10-04T11:03:00.000-07:00

Ok, think of the last day of the EX, December 24th shoppers, and the airport at the beginning of March break – all at the same time – and it will give you an idea of the crowds in Munich the last weekend of Oktoberfest. Add umbrellas – because, of course, it’s raining – and you get even a better picture!

I made my way through the Viktualmarkt to Marianplatz, the centre of town, and thought I might catch a hop-on-hop-off tour as a way of getting to know Munich. But just outside the city hall, there was a group forming beside a tour guide with a big sign saying “Free Tours of Munich.” Of course, they’re not free – generous tipping is encouraged, but it was at the right place and time, so I joined up.

We were right in front of the town-hall with its world-famous Glockenspiel. Curiously enough, the tour guides (there were three) trashed it rather thoroughly as tacky. I imagine if you’ve heard it dozens of times, it would be, but as a novelty it has some merit. The tour proceeded well, until the sky opened up, and the rain poured down. Suddenly the market (where we were at the time) was a sea of umbrellas, and about five of us couldn’t find the tour guide or the rest of the group.

With it being cold and wet, I headed to the Deutches Museum, which houses a large science and technology collection. A reproduction of Galileo’s workshop, nice collection of clocks, airplanes (including airships), musical instruments were the best parts. The clock collection featured numerous by Riefler, who apparently was from Munich. Riefler invented an escapement that improved mechanical accuracy substantially, about the best before quartz and cesium timepieces.

There was lots of interesting exhibits about Zeppelins and other airships, including engines, sections of the superstructure, and some furnishings.

This ride, for some strange reason, was in the courtyard of the museum. As it rotates, the riders can manipulate the wings to change their flight angle, or even rotate. The picture is taken from a museum window, but it was just getting ‘air-borne’ when I was leaving, so I stood well back (why would anyone stand directly underneath? Especially right after lunch??).

By that time, the sky had cleared a bit for walking around and getting a few pics. I’d forgotten how much mental energy is required to work in a foreign culture. By foreign, I mean a context in which one has no language ability. I really enjoy French and can get by quite easily; I have a smattering of Italian and Spanish (which wouldn’t stand much of a test right now). But other than about six words in German (danke being the best), I’m helpless, and it really takes more work to make the effort, even when many people here do speak English.

Oh, and by the way, many people thought that Jesus was just the King of Kings, Son of Man, and God Incarnate. It appears that he was also a watchmaker! At least in Munich.

Au revoir Strasbourg (Guten Abend Munich)*

2008-10-03T17:05:00.000-07:00

Hotels are already beginning to lose their charm. The walls are like paper here; gratefully, the only embarrassing sounds are from the baby next door. The library at BNU was a profitable. Interestingly, there were lots of debates about resetting the Strasbourg Astronomical clock with the advent of time-zones in the later part of the 19th century. Up to that point, the clock was on local time calculated by the Strasbourg Observatory. With the new time-zone, that was half an hour slow. Great debate ensued, since the clock was ‘astronomical’ it was strongly felt the clock should show ‘true local time.’ The issue surfaced again during WWI with the introduction of Daylight Saving Time.

Research finished up around 2:00 p.m., leaving about three hours to wander the city in alternating bursts of sunshine and rain. Check the picture of the kayaks in the river, there was a flotilla of them negotiating the lock.

TGV trains are wonderful fast and smooth, although just like VIA they do run late. Arrived in Munich later than expected. Just a culture shock from Strasbourg, which, although very cosmopolitan, still has a bit of small-town atmosphere. Leaving the Bahnhof in Munich, you immediately land in the tawdry area of town. And yes, it’s Oktoberfest and the streets smell of beer and are crowded with men in lederhosen and women in dirndls.

Oh, the glass thing in the picture is the new Central Station in Strasbourg. Instead of demolishing the 19th century Beaux-Arts station, a glass shell envelopes it and creates an additional passenger area where the street used to pass by in front.

Time for bed, but there’s a movie on TV – have no idea what it is, but it’s Paul Newman and Julie Andrews, and they're in Germany and fighting bad guys. Rather odd coincidence.

*apologies to Anne-Marie MacDonald.

Strasbourg Day II part 2

2008-10-03T17:01:00.001-07:00

The debates were Thursday evening, and I managed to miss both of them. The front cover of Le Monde had an article about Sarah Palin – mostly about the faux-pas she has been making. Search as I might through the paper, there wasn’t the least mention of Harper, let alone May. I gather from the CBC that both debates were pretty tame. Rex Murphy commented they weren’t even real debates. Even the financial melt-down in the U.S. (and Canada?) is not making big headlines in the press here, although what there is suggests that the Europe is not immune. Getting the Canadian news via cbc.ca is one of the greatest technological tricks (along with Skype!). Otherwise from the media here, you wouldn’t know Canada exists.

Alsace seems to have a local dish, commonly called ‘tarte flambee.’ It isn’t what one might suspect; it’s actually closer to pizza. Most restaurants serve both, often with similar ingredients. The ‘normal’ tarte is oval (not round) and has a base of crème fraiche, along with bacon and goat cheese. It’s flamed in the kitchen, and comes slightly burnt around the edges and sizzling hot. As Sweeney Todd said to Mrs Lovatt, it all goes down well with beer!

Strasbourg Day II

2008-10-02T14:04:00.000-07:00

The Strasbourg weather-gods obviously have it in for me. It was pouring rain when I left the hotel for the tram to the University this morning. I spent most of the day indoors, in a sun-splashed library, looking out over the fields. It was sunny for about half-an-hour after I left the library, and then the clouds rolled in and it poured again. And, it's been pouring all evening!

It's been a reasonably successful day of research. Lots of material at the archives, but most of it points toward the construction and details of the Strasbourg Cathedral Astronomical Clock. While that's interesting, I'm also looking for some of the ecclesiastical / theological context. In talking with the archivist, he immediately noted that the motivation was primarily prestige and competition with other cities. That seems obvious, but nowhere in any documentation is that actually articulated. Maybe it is / was so patently obvious, it didn't need to be said. Still, I'd like to find some explanation why they built what was probably the most sophisticated clock of its time -- in three different centuries (the first was built in the late 1300's, the second in the mid 1500's, and the current clock in the mid 1800's).

For those of us that spend too much time in church business, it may be either comforting or disconcerting that congregational politics never change. Back in the 1860's the church council for the cathedral complained to the Bishop that the crowds of curious onlookers who came to 'gawk' at the astronomical clock were unruly, and that they were treating the church as if it were a public place! They wanted the bishop to move the clock to another place in town where it wouldn't be such a nuisance. This, of course never happened; moving a clock that's more than 40 feet tall and weighs many tons is not undertaken lightly. The clock remains in its original location to this day. Without it, there wouldn't be half the traffic to the church!

Strasbourg

2008-10-01T13:42:00.000-07:00

The trip to Strasbourg was uneventful, but I arrived to more rain. It’s always raining here! The hotel was easy to find, and is simple and well-located. A short walk got me to the municipal library to get started on some research. They had a few good books, but hopefully tomorrow at the Bilbioteque National Universitaire will be better.

Strasbourg is a beautiful city, located on the Ill River, several canals make a number of islands, the largest being the city centre. The sinuous streets are lined with ancient houses and buildings that overhang the sidewalk, and even on the first of October, there are lots of flowers. Much of the old city is pedestrian only (here, as in Paris, pedestrian includes bikes, but thankfully not scooters). The only major traffic is the streetcars, which run throughout the city and converge in the old town at a transportation hub. Unlike Toronto streetcars, these look like TGV trains. They are shaped like high-speed trains, with cars strung together and sleek aero-dynamic noses (even if they only go about 40 km/h!). They’re also very low, so that you only step up a small amount when entering. One runs right by the hotel, so I’ll see how quiet they run tonight.

The great thing about old cities like Strasbourg is the maze of lanes and streets that make exploring interesting. The bad thing about old cities like Strasbourg is the maze of lanes and streets that make getting lost inevitable. After visiting the library, I walked around quite for quite a while, but when I tried to get back to the hotel, the way just didn’t seem to come clear. Finally back at the hotel I realized I’d gone past the street several times, despite following the map. Of course, the fact that the street changes names several times didn’t help!

Dan goes to the Opera

2008-10-01T13:34:00.000-07:00

The opera house and the show was amazing. The Opera House, also known as Opera Garnier or Palais Garnier, after the architect, is immense, with about a quarter of it devoted to the grand entrance and staircases. My seat was in the third balcony (there are five), and on the stage left side. The balconies on the side are really boxes, each with six seats, that are actually just chairs. It’s incredibly cramped and the sight-lines are lousy (as promised, only about 2/3 of the stage is visible when you’re seated. People tend to stand for much of the show). Fans of Phantom of the Opera will be pleased to hear there is the most ginormous chandelier in the centre of the house! If it crashed, it would take out most of the orchestra seating!!

The show was amazing, a number of ballet pieces choreographed by Jerome Robbins, music mostly by Chopin. Some were very modern, others more classical. The last piece “The Concert” was a comedy, with a pianist on stage, and various characters coming to listen to her and interact with her, the piano, and each other. I don’t know if the people on the far side of the house had the same experience, but it seemed that most of the action took place down-stage right, the area almost invisible from my seat.

It’s been a while since I’ve been to the ballet, and I really enjoyed it. The combination of music and movement without text is engrossing. It requires a lot of concentration and attention, more, perhaps, than a play. The setting was absolute minimalist, with no set or back-drop, just different lighting and strong shadows. And, I’d forgotten how many curtain-calls are the norm for ballet. I think the proper proportion is about five minutes of curtain-calls for every ten minutes of performance.

Biking in Paris

2008-10-01T13:33:00.001-07:00

Paris seems to be ahead of many cities in North America, especially when it comes to transit and bicycle use.. To be sure, the city is totally crowded with cars and motorcycles, and the broad boulevards (sidewalks) that Hausemann had laid out have been taken over by bicycle lanes and parking spaces so that the pedestrian zone is in many places quite narrow. And what’s the logic behind closing streets to traffic to make pedestrian-friendly zones, but still letting scooters and motorcycles in? But one of the new innovations is a bicycle exchange. Throughout the city, strategically placed in high-traffic areas, are bicycles for public use. People sign up and get a pass card (I don’t know what the fees are), and this gives them access to bicycles at any of the bicycle stands. Each stand has maybe 20 or more bikes, and they are securely locked to their posts, until you free it with your card. The bikes are quite unique in style and make. I’m assuming that when you’re finished with the bike, you return it to any of the bicycle stands. You see people on these bikes all over the city. And riding a bike in Paris takes some nerve!

Tuesday, Paris

2008-09-30T07:38:00.000-07:00

Good morning from Paris. After a beautiful, sunny day yesterday, today dawned cold and rainy. Surprising cold! I'm not really prepared for it, so I'll have to buy a umbrella.

I tried to get to Gobelins, but their tours only start in mid-afternoon. They in fact may tapistries, not fabrics, and have been in the business for centuries. After checking that out, a pastry and juice set me up for the morning.

After the long treks yesterday (I don't dare calculate the kilometers, because they would surely be foolish), the metro looked really good. The tentative schedule was to go to the Opera House for a tour, then check out la Bilbioteque Nationale, then the Musee d'Orsay. This seemed to make sense since the metro Gobelins is on the same line as the Opera.

The Opera House is magnificent, and occupies its own city block -- really a diamond shaped block. There was a long line-up for the self-guided tour which only gets you into the main public spaces anyways. I noticed that there is a show "Hommage a Jerome Robbins" on the repertoire, and lo-and-behold, it is playing this evening. Gawd, how much can tickets be?? Well, there is only one price for tickets this evening, 7 euros with 'tres mauvaise vues.' But, it sounds like it could be fun, there will be good music, and it will get me in to see the opera house as well, so that's my plan. The other option for this evening was to go see The Magnificent Ambersons in English with french subtitles, but this seemed better.

The Biblioteque National is huge, but only for selected topics, and even using the reading room is not allowed without much registration and hoopla. So much for that.

The musee d'orsay is in the former Orleans-Paris railways station, with the main gallery in the train shed. Built in the 1870's it's right on the banks of the Seine. It specializes in mid-19th - early 20th century art, so has lots of Victoriana (they don't call it that here), neo classicalism, art nouveau, and impressionism. Big space, lots of good stuff, but nothing totally outstanding. It does have some of Rodin's sculptures. I didn't know that 'The Thinker' was actually only a figure in a proposal that Rodin made for massive sculptural doors for an art gallery in Paris (he got the commission, but the doors, like the museum itself, were never built). Rodin took many items, including Thinker, and The Kiss from these panels. Nothing like recycling!

I've come back to the hotel to rest. Tired after lugging the damned computer all over paris (with the expectation of maybe doing some writing in the library). A bit of a rest, then find something to eat (it's always difficult when travelling alone -- the temptation is to eat on the run, and that isn't good). Then off to the Opera. Damn! I left my black cape at home. And the opera glasses, too!

Monday, September 29th

2008-09-30T01:09:00.000-07:00

Arrived in Paris after a very smooth flight. The only strange thing was, that when we landing, it was so foggy that you couldn’t see the ground. It actually felt more like we hit something, than landing; and only when the other wheels hit and the engines kicked into reverse, was it clear we weren’t flying anymore.

Unlike most of my trips (and Grant will attest to this!) I did not go barreling out into the day, but decided to have a nap right away. The hotel is in the 5th Arrondissement, the immediate neighbourhood is les Gobelins, named after a family of the area who makes fabrics and wall-papers. The factory is close by and has tours daily, so I may go and take a look tomorrow. Like the hotels on my last trip to France, this one has a beautiful view of the air-shaft, although the walls of the air-shaft this time are not painted sky-blue with clouds, unfortunately. The room is unique, though, in that it is pie-shaped. The narrow point end of the pie is about three feet wide – the width of the window. The rest of the room is small, but clean and bright, and the bed (obviously, from the nap-time) is comfy.

I napped longer than I intended (I should’ve slept more on the flight, but I got hooked into the Iron Man movie –which wasn’t that good!). Set out to walk around the city and just enjoy the sunshine and the ambience. It took me all over, with a walk near the Pantheon (remember Foucault’s pendulum there?), down into Boulevard St. Michel, across to the Cite, and a bit of time in Notre Dame and the gardens there. On the way I picked up the Parisien street meat – crepes to go. It was amazingly good!

I then decided, rather foolishly to walk up to the Gare d’Est. It’s where I need to catch the train to Strasbourg on Wednesday, and I thought I might as well explore the area along the way. Well, it was a bit of a foolish idea, since it was much farther than I expected. Nevertheless, it was a fascinating walk. I diverged from the main street to one street over – Faubourg de St. Denis – which is very ethnically diverse, with lots of C. aribbean, Turkish, and African shops and restaurants. And lots of hookers! I was pretty naïve at first, until I noticed that there seemed to be a lot of over-dressed women just standing about. Some is rather extravagant outfits. Big hats and big hair and big boobs. And, it was only about 4:30 in the afternoon.

The visit to Gare d’Est was a total waste of time. After attempting to book my seat about a dozen times on the automatic machines and it refusing my credit card (which, in itself was starting to make me panic!), I finally read the small notice that it only accepted credit cards with ‘chips’ in them, and not the typical north-american card with a magnetic strip. So, off to the real ticket office, where there was a queue about thirty people long. Not ideal.

I abandoned the ticket office, thinking I’ll get the tickets later (having quelled my panic over the cards not working), and walked down through the Marais back toward the city, where I picked up a sandwich and a drink before heading into the Church of St. Ephraim for a music concert.

There is so much music here, being held in old churches, that you can hear something every night. It’s not particularly cheap – 23 euros – but it was good. It was a solo for a selection of Bach pieces for cello. The church was really small, so the acoustics were amazing. It was almost too loud, and I was sitting about five rows back. There was only about 25 people there, and the whole space would only seat about 75, so it was a bit like a private concert.

It’s late, I’m bagged, and the I can’t send this tonight because the hotels’ wifi is down. I’ll sent it early on Tuesday.