Do you know the pub called "The Church" because it's actually built inside what was a place of cult?
Don't go there.
It sucks and it's expensive.
Friday 30 May 2008
national gallery
I've some tips for those who are still in Dublin, or will be there soon.
National Gallery:
This place is worth visiting, since it's free. And free museums are what I love about Ireland.
The gallery is a weird one. It is place in the old barracks, a huge courtyard with an old nice building around it. In the courtyard was (and now is no more) the "Sea Stallion", a faithful reproduction of a Viking ship built in Glendalough. Which makes me quite suspicious, since Glendalough is not on the sea. But... the ship has been used! It sailed, with a crew of volounteers, from Denmark to Dublin. It's a small shell apparently, with no motor but sail and oars. It shows how tough were Vikings and theirs ships.
The museum itself closes way too early (at 5PM they kick you out) and it's a terrible, random placement of good material. I enjoyed the historical museum, in Kildare street, but the national gallery is just a mess. There are small, well constructed sections, like the one on war - excellent indeed - and on 1916 and civil war. Personally, I'm sick with 1916 Revolution. I mean, it's everywhere, even on Lisbon treaty posters. Ok, it was a good attempt, but could we pleeeeease, move on? 1916 is over! And it wasn't even really succesful!
Anyway, the section is very well constructed, since it's the kind of gallery which does not need any guide.
Then there are the "selected objects", a small room with almost 20 (i don't remember the exact number) of objects selected by the leaders of the museum. Nice. And then.... it comes the thing...
THE RANDOM GALLERY. All the stuff that they could fit is placed in a few rooms, on glass shelves or even drawers, without any explanation or date. Just completely random stuff.
Then a nice but quite meaningless section about furniture.
I would say it's a 7.5 out of ten, good but needs improvements.
Tuesday 27 May 2008
The end
Come si poteva chiedere al tempo di fermarsi?
Come si poteva sperare che il destino non desse fine a ciò che era nato per terminare presto?
Eppure ho sperato.
Ho sperato che si potesse trasformare, che potesse finire una fase di questa esperienza per tramutarsi in qualcosa di diverso che potesse ancora far parte della mia vita.
E invece no.
Con l'arrivo degli scatoloni a casa tutta la mia vita di Ulm riconfluisce nella mia stanza, che trabocca di oggetti, ricordi. Lacrime anche. Forse fa parte del gioco.
Ora c'è solo una compagnia che può sopperire a quella mancanza di giochi, gioie e scoperte: la mia finestra. Sempre lei. Dalla mia finestra tutto prende forma in una razionalità che va oltre la logica, perché da pace. Va oltre gli schemi perché è in forma di colline.
Ho imparato tanto, troppo. E sono stanco. Vorrei ripartire, ma non riesco neanche a riallacciare la cintura. Vorrei scoprire ancora il mondo fuori, ma ora è il momento di collezionare le memorie.
Riflettere e assorbire. Assorbire le memorie, gli errori, i tentativi, le lacrime.
Assorbire per ritrovare un po' di energia e ripartire da zero con una vita che pensavo finita.
Kathrin non fa più parte della mia vita. La distanza e gli eventi hanno ucciso un sogno.
Muoio oggi per rinascere domani. Come un rampicante mi aggrappavo ad un muro cadente, e per non venir strappato taglio quel vizzo, che seccherà sul muro e cadrà con esso.
La fine. La fine.
Ed un nuovo inizio.
Thursday 22 May 2008
news "ations
I'm at the end of my Erasmus. I've said farewell to my flatmates, farewell to UCD, farewell to many things.
I still have a few days to spend in Dublin and I'll try to make them great.
My Erasmus life has ended, this I know. I should write how do I feel about it, what have I learnt, but it's not quite the right moment; I am already writing and storing my thoughts, but I'll post them only when they'll be fully translated. So when I'll be back in Italy I will still write about Dublin. I'm going to review a few things and places, like O'Donoghues, the National Museum, and so on.
Sincerely, when we started this blog, I (and probably Hugin too) was scared and thrilled by the idea of such an experience and I had no time to think about coming back. If I were to realize how leaving Ireland feels, I probably would have never applied for the exchange. But here I am, in one of the few Europe's corner which has never been conquered by the Romans.
The quest is not finished though. The Aldafaðr would be quite narrow-minded if he thought to use my sight only to explore the small and remote Ireland. I'll be back to Bananitaly on the 26th, but another plane will bring me to Finland on the 11th of june. My wanderings continue, and what I see shall be written down for all (well... for a few...) to read and perhaps remember.
Quotation time:
"You should do it on baily dasis!" myself.
"People in the north are ignorant!" Alex aus Napoli. It should be read as "Peepol in de nord ar ee-nj-or-aant"
May the north wind be a bit warmer this summer!
Munin
I still have a few days to spend in Dublin and I'll try to make them great.
My Erasmus life has ended, this I know. I should write how do I feel about it, what have I learnt, but it's not quite the right moment; I am already writing and storing my thoughts, but I'll post them only when they'll be fully translated. So when I'll be back in Italy I will still write about Dublin. I'm going to review a few things and places, like O'Donoghues, the National Museum, and so on.
Sincerely, when we started this blog, I (and probably Hugin too) was scared and thrilled by the idea of such an experience and I had no time to think about coming back. If I were to realize how leaving Ireland feels, I probably would have never applied for the exchange. But here I am, in one of the few Europe's corner which has never been conquered by the Romans.
The quest is not finished though. The Aldafaðr would be quite narrow-minded if he thought to use my sight only to explore the small and remote Ireland. I'll be back to Bananitaly on the 26th, but another plane will bring me to Finland on the 11th of june. My wanderings continue, and what I see shall be written down for all (well... for a few...) to read and perhaps remember.
Quotation time:
"You should do it on baily dasis!" myself.
"People in the north are ignorant!" Alex aus Napoli. It should be read as "Peepol in de nord ar ee-nj-or-aant"
May the north wind be a bit warmer this summer!
Munin
Sunday 11 May 2008
The Kings of Irish Folk Metal
I promised some picture, but since Henna didn't send them to me yet, I'll replace them with some taken from the bands' Myspaces.
We pay the ticket and enter the lair underneath the surface of Temple Bar. In such occasions, the club suddenly transforms: you come from the terrible streets of temple bar on saturday night, packed with italians, spanish and french people (Henna would say "but mostly germans"), drunk or going to get drunk, and enter this underworld with tall (!!!) long haired stout Irish headbangers, with T-shirts of every possible metal band, from Iron Maiden to Korpiklaani and even Apocalyptica and Moonsorrow.
Runecaster had already started playing and a hammering 1/16 bass drum beat welcomes us. The band features 4 members, whose leader sings, plays guitar and the tin whistle when appropriate. Ok, the band does not show great excellence in arrangements or complicate riffs and structure, but good will and cheerful metallic power. The leader is actually the whistle-bodhrann-mandolin player of Waylander, and Runecaster may be just a side project in which he is the leader.
We arrived a bit late, so I listened only to a few songs from this band, anyway the feeling was good even with all the sound problems, mics, etc. Folk metal bands must have some problems when playing live: they usually have more instruments than musicians and switching is difficult: acoustic guitar are replaced with clean electric guitars; Bodhrann and flutes are difficult to amplify.
The face-body painting was funny but very in tema. At first I thought the drummer had huge blue nipples!
Then the band stops playing and leaves the stage. The "filling" music starts playing: Whiskey in the jar! But the song stops: Runecaster are given time for another song!
Good performance, but finally, after some Flogging Molly, the unofficial protagonists of the night
: Waylander!!!!
Their entrance is a bit weird since the guitarist-singer of Runecaster is still there... with his tin whistle! The bands enter, they have body painiting of the same colour as Runecaster and they look cool.
Check them on Myspace!
They start with a song with a silly name: "Walk with honour" (or actually "wok wid onow") but quite cool. The singer is not that good with clean vocal but has a good growl, the groove is fast and chaotic, the band shows complete carelessness for mistakes - but this is the unifying theme of the night - just as I would imagine celtic music; Irish lads, you know.
Their part on the stage is short but impressive. Without too much seriousness they sweat on the stage - hell, everything was hot and wet that night and no oxigen for anybody!
I liked the MANLY and AGGRESSIVE attitude of the band, but their overall cheerfulness. They even let a crazy men in the audience sing a few lines. All Eamon Doran's was on fire when they played their last song "Born to the fight", which they played slightly longer than the original, for, like, 8-10 minutes? Whatever, it was gr
eat.
It is time now to introduce the main band of the night, and the main delusion: Cruachan.
This is from their Myspace:
"Cruachan combine modern rock /metal with traditional Irish music, but there is a lot more to them than just that: elaborate classical pieces, ancient medieval tunes etc. They also use real instruments rather than relying solely on a keyboard or sampler. The use of these instruments also adds an element of curiosity in live shows due to each member's ability to play a variety of instruments. Some of the traditional instruments they use are: Tin whistle, Irish Flute, Bódhran (an ancient hand-held goatskin drum), Uilleann pipes (or elbow pipes, like the traditional bag pipes, but instead of blowing, a bellows is used to pump air into the bag), Harp, Bouzouki (originally a Greek guitar, it has been adopted into Irish and Scottish music) Cruachan's original metal style could have been classed as Black metal, but the band have now opened up to other styles of metal and rock, although the black influences are still evident and the whole ethos is still there. Cruachan consider themselves as modern day bards or storytellers. They tell the old Celtic myths and legends of their proud past like the ancient Fili did before them, or the tales of hardship and rebellion that Ireland endured, through the medium of music "
Indeed they have many pros: they really use all those instruments widely and not just en passant for intros like most of folk metal bands. They started in '93 to play black-folk metal, which is quite early: Bathory released their first real Viking metal album, Hammerheart, only in 1990, and in '93 Varg Vikernes was imprisoned, closing a stage of black metal.
But for some reasons,
the gig just wasn't right.
John O'Fathaigh's mic (Tin Whistle player) did not work at all and he was clearly pissed off/embarassed. I didn't almost hear the bozouki too. The Bodhrann was neglected most of the night, but Cruachan didn't use it at all if I remember correctly. Keith Fay is not a "guitar hero", but his growl is strong and dark. I think his guitar was out of tune, or he was using minor chords, which do not blend that well with happy Irish fiddles. The overall effect was grotesque.
The first impact was very negative, but with the following songs the band gets better: Karen Gilligan pops on the stage, and the band plays what seems to be a famous masterpiece: "Ride On". The melody is now milder, the female voice is well alternated with Keith's vocals; good song, the audience loved it.
The last song(s?) gave more credibility to the band, that unleashed all its Black power and rage, without Karen and Irish stuff and I really enjoyed this part. Just pure evil chaos, for the extreme headbangers. Then, without even say "bye" (did they? I didn't notice) they left the stage.
In conclusion, I think the band sounds good in studio, but didn't live.
Keith wore a quite ugly/funny leather armour, and all the members looked more pissed than amused (unlike Runecaster and Waylander!); technical problems made their gig less enjoyable; their extreme nationalism was a bit annoying. I mean, it's ok, they play Folk Metal with Irish roots, so you expect them to sing about Brian Boru, Cuchulinn, Irish legends etc. But the Irish flag on the stage, dedicating the first song only to Irish headbangers (and there were several foreigners that night), saying that Ireland was the only western country to ever have a famine... I mean, it was just a bit excessive.
But I don't want to be over-criticising: the overall feeling of the night was very relaxed, careless and pagan. The place was packed, especially since such bands which would be called "weird" in Ireland; the bands were very sensitive toward the audience.
All in all I think Irish folk metal is still rawer than, say, the Scandinavian one. I never saw them live, but bands like Lumsk, Korpiklaani, Fejd, show much more attention to details and arrangement; I appreciated the harsh look and sound though, and I think it is very appropriate to Irish music.
So, Irish Metal, see you soon!
Munin says hi.
We pay the ticket and enter the lair underneath the surface of Temple Bar. In such occasions, the club suddenly transforms: you come from the terrible streets of temple bar on saturday night, packed with italians, spanish and french people (Henna would say "but mostly germans"), drunk or going to get drunk, and enter this underworld with tall (!!!) long haired stout Irish headbangers, with T-shirts of every possible metal band, from Iron Maiden to Korpiklaani and even Apocalyptica and Moonsorrow.
Runecaster had already started playing and a hammering 1/16 bass drum beat welcomes us. The band features 4 members, whose leader sings, plays guitar and the tin whistle when appropriate. Ok, the band does not show great excellence in arrangements or complicate riffs and structure, but good will and cheerful metallic power. The leader is actually the whistle-bodhrann-mandolin player of Waylander, and Runecaster may be just a side project in which he is the leader.
We arrived a bit late, so I listened only to a few songs from this band, anyway the feeling was good even with all the sound problems, mics, etc. Folk metal bands must have some problems when playing live: they usually have more instruments than musicians and switching is difficult: acoustic guitar are replaced with clean electric guitars; Bodhrann and flutes are difficult to amplify.
The face-body painting was funny but very in tema. At first I thought the drummer had huge blue nipples!
Then the band stops playing and leaves the stage. The "filling" music starts playing: Whiskey in the jar! But the song stops: Runecaster are given time for another song!
Good performance, but finally, after some Flogging Molly, the unofficial protagonists of the night
: Waylander!!!!
Their entrance is a bit weird since the guitarist-singer of Runecaster is still there... with his tin whistle! The bands enter, they have body painiting of the same colour as Runecaster and they look cool.
Check them on Myspace!
They start with a song with a silly name: "Walk with honour" (or actually "wok wid onow") but quite cool. The singer is not that good with clean vocal but has a good growl, the groove is fast and chaotic, the band shows complete carelessness for mistakes - but this is the unifying theme of the night - just as I would imagine celtic music; Irish lads, you know.
Their part on the stage is short but impressive. Without too much seriousness they sweat on the stage - hell, everything was hot and wet that night and no oxigen for anybody!
I liked the MANLY and AGGRESSIVE attitude of the band, but their overall cheerfulness. They even let a crazy men in the audience sing a few lines. All Eamon Doran's was on fire when they played their last song "Born to the fight", which they played slightly longer than the original, for, like, 8-10 minutes? Whatever, it was gr
eat.It is time now to introduce the main band of the night, and the main delusion: Cruachan.
This is from their Myspace:
"Cruachan combine modern rock /metal with traditional Irish music, but there is a lot more to them than just that: elaborate classical pieces, ancient medieval tunes etc. They also use real instruments rather than relying solely on a keyboard or sampler. The use of these instruments also adds an element of curiosity in live shows due to each member's ability to play a variety of instruments. Some of the traditional instruments they use are: Tin whistle, Irish Flute, Bódhran (an ancient hand-held goatskin drum), Uilleann pipes (or elbow pipes, like the traditional bag pipes, but instead of blowing, a bellows is used to pump air into the bag), Harp, Bouzouki (originally a Greek guitar, it has been adopted into Irish and Scottish music) Cruachan's original metal style could have been classed as Black metal, but the band have now opened up to other styles of metal and rock, although the black influences are still evident and the whole ethos is still there. Cruachan consider themselves as modern day bards or storytellers. They tell the old Celtic myths and legends of their proud past like the ancient Fili did before them, or the tales of hardship and rebellion that Ireland endured, through the medium of music "
Indeed they have many pros: they really use all those instruments widely and not just en passant for intros like most of folk metal bands. They started in '93 to play black-folk metal, which is quite early: Bathory released their first real Viking metal album, Hammerheart, only in 1990, and in '93 Varg Vikernes was imprisoned, closing a stage of black metal.
But for some reasons,
the gig just wasn't right.John O'Fathaigh's mic (Tin Whistle player) did not work at all and he was clearly pissed off/embarassed. I didn't almost hear the bozouki too. The Bodhrann was neglected most of the night, but Cruachan didn't use it at all if I remember correctly. Keith Fay is not a "guitar hero", but his growl is strong and dark. I think his guitar was out of tune, or he was using minor chords, which do not blend that well with happy Irish fiddles. The overall effect was grotesque.
The first impact was very negative, but with the following songs the band gets better: Karen Gilligan pops on the stage, and the band plays what seems to be a famous masterpiece: "Ride On". The melody is now milder, the female voice is well alternated with Keith's vocals; good song, the audience loved it.
The last song(s?) gave more credibility to the band, that unleashed all its Black power and rage, without Karen and Irish stuff and I really enjoyed this part. Just pure evil chaos, for the extreme headbangers. Then, without even say "bye" (did they? I didn't notice) they left the stage.
In conclusion, I think the band sounds good in studio, but didn't live.
Keith wore a quite ugly/funny leather armour, and all the members looked more pissed than amused (unlike Runecaster and Waylander!); technical problems made their gig less enjoyable; their extreme nationalism was a bit annoying. I mean, it's ok, they play Folk Metal with Irish roots, so you expect them to sing about Brian Boru, Cuchulinn, Irish legends etc. But the Irish flag on the stage, dedicating the first song only to Irish headbangers (and there were several foreigners that night), saying that Ireland was the only western country to ever have a famine... I mean, it was just a bit excessive.
But I don't want to be over-criticising: the overall feeling of the night was very relaxed, careless and pagan. The place was packed, especially since such bands which would be called "weird" in Ireland; the bands were very sensitive toward the audience.
All in all I think Irish folk metal is still rawer than, say, the Scandinavian one. I never saw them live, but bands like Lumsk, Korpiklaani, Fejd, show much more attention to details and arrangement; I appreciated the harsh look and sound though, and I think it is very appropriate to Irish music.
So, Irish Metal, see you soon!
Munin says hi.
Chapter X - Chaos
Yesterday I went to a small gig at Eamon Doran's - Temple Bar - , a "king of irish folk metal" night, with - in this order - Runecaster, Waylander and Cruachan. The concert was fun, but I will spare a detailed description of it later, when I will download the photos.
Then me and Henna went back home. All south Dublin was silent, except for Belgrove, "where chaos (and not god) ruled all over the race of Belgrovites, as it still does now". Who understands the quotation wins a french kiss.
Everybody was out in the courtyard (yes, out in the fields like Phil Lynott) drinking, fighting, mating, smoking... you name it. Almost naked girls, a guy whith a Toga... every possible hellish vision was there, like Tortuga in "Pirates of the Caribbean".
Right in the middle of the chaos there is a circle of people sitting: among them Luca, Remy, Federico, Arielle... people we know, so we joined them. Conor lost his job and got drunk, Luca was sick for drinking too, Remy... well, he had some business going on. Matteo misses the sun and wants to walk the Santiago de Compostela way or what the fuck is that called when people take a plane and then walk for miles only to give a look at a pagan site on which a christian shrine has been built. But everybody wants to win god's grace, right?
Then the security came and quite violently started taking away drinks from people. Many were pissed of and there was open ostility and almost aggression on the security; thus the Garda was called. Under the menace of "disperse or I will arrest you, I'm fucking serious" chaos stopped, groups were dispersed, and only few throngs were left, smoking and complaining that in a free country we have right of assembly and Conor saying that Gardaì have no authority on private soil.
Long story short, a reasonable amount of order was restored. Until the police went away and then it was chaos again. Not as much though. It was already 3 A.M. by the way.
Then we gathered at Remy-Luca-Christian place (neat as usual). Henna moved the conversation on politics - how rare! - with drunken Conor and me. We left the frenchie to his affairs and we moved at my place, with Arielle, Federico and a few beers, gossiping about crazy germans on campus. Outside Somebody played Wonderwall by Oasis, the top hit of the century in Ireland, with a guitar.
The night went on, and at 4:20 the sky was painted in light blue, dawn was near. We finally went to sleep, hoping to have a decent rest. Which did not happen.
Then me and Henna went back home. All south Dublin was silent, except for Belgrove, "where chaos (and not god) ruled all over the race of Belgrovites, as it still does now". Who understands the quotation wins a french kiss.
Everybody was out in the courtyard (yes, out in the fields like Phil Lynott) drinking, fighting, mating, smoking... you name it. Almost naked girls, a guy whith a Toga... every possible hellish vision was there, like Tortuga in "Pirates of the Caribbean".
Right in the middle of the chaos there is a circle of people sitting: among them Luca, Remy, Federico, Arielle... people we know, so we joined them. Conor lost his job and got drunk, Luca was sick for drinking too, Remy... well, he had some business going on. Matteo misses the sun and wants to walk the Santiago de Compostela way or what the fuck is that called when people take a plane and then walk for miles only to give a look at a pagan site on which a christian shrine has been built. But everybody wants to win god's grace, right?
Then the security came and quite violently started taking away drinks from people. Many were pissed of and there was open ostility and almost aggression on the security; thus the Garda was called. Under the menace of "disperse or I will arrest you, I'm fucking serious" chaos stopped, groups were dispersed, and only few throngs were left, smoking and complaining that in a free country we have right of assembly and Conor saying that Gardaì have no authority on private soil.
Long story short, a reasonable amount of order was restored. Until the police went away and then it was chaos again. Not as much though. It was already 3 A.M. by the way.
Then we gathered at Remy-Luca-Christian place (neat as usual). Henna moved the conversation on politics - how rare! - with drunken Conor and me. We left the frenchie to his affairs and we moved at my place, with Arielle, Federico and a few beers, gossiping about crazy germans on campus. Outside Somebody played Wonderwall by Oasis, the top hit of the century in Ireland, with a guitar.
The night went on, and at 4:20 the sky was painted in light blue, dawn was near. We finally went to sleep, hoping to have a decent rest. Which did not happen.
Saturday 10 May 2008
pensieri e paesaggi
So was? Sono tornato da una settimana in Germania e mi ci è voluto un po' per ambientarmi. Il mare e le campagne marchigiane (per non parlare della bassa montagna, dove sono stato alcuni giorni) erano fantastiche. Penso il miglior periodo per visitare la nostra regione sia proprio la primavera inoltrata, quando ancora non è troppo caldo, i colori sono vividi e le coste di smeraldo.
In merito ai paesaggi le marche meritano davvero, ed è una fortuna che non siano molto conosciute ai turisti, così ce le possiamo godere tutte per noi...
D'altronde quest'anno le Marche sono in testa insieme alla Toscana per il numero di bandiere blu...
Beh che dire anche qui la primavera è fiorita e sinceramente trovo alcuni scorci davvero fantastici, per non parlare dei campi coltivati a Raps, un fiore giallo che copre letteralmente le colline (colline mpf... è tutto piattissimo!) di lenzuola color sole. Le temperature sono come quelle in Italia e in bicicletta si gira che è una meraviglia (beh, visto? forse il fatto che tutto sia piatto non è tutto sto gran male!).
Mi sono messo in testa che strade e case qui assomigliano un casino a quelle in Norvegia.
Ah! Ah-ah! A proposito di fiori! Questa la devo proprio raccontare.
Per capire a che grado di civilizzazione sono arrivati qui: Volete dei tulipani e narcisi per il balcone (beh il balcone gli edifici di centro città e molte delle casette monofamiliari a schiera non lo hanno, ma noi sì!) ?
Bene: potete trovare dei campi vicino alla strada, di quando in quando, coltivati a fiori, tulipani e narcisi. Lì vi troverete un cartello con il prezzo dei fiori, alcuni coltellini per asportarli e un contenitore per monete. Non c'è nessuno a controllare, ovviamente: chi mai ruberebbe tulipani?
...un italiano, un francese, uno spagnolo, un inglese e persino il fantasma formaggino.
Ma non un tedesco a quanto pare.
Uhm adesso che guardo meglio fuori, mi sono convinto che invece i campi somiglino un po' all'Olanda.
Ci sono dei boschi di piccole dimensioni oltre ai campi qua. Nella zona di Stoccarda ci sono aree boschive molto più ampie e anche colline e campi coltivati ad uva. Dicono sia una regione più mite (anche se è ad un'ora di strada da qui). E' una bella zona anche quella, e Stoccarda è una bella città, anche fuori dal centro urbano. Non ci sono neanche quei quartieracci di baracche per operai. Qui neppure però questa è una città più piccola. E forse anche un po' monotona dopo alcuni mesi.
L'università probabilmente è il vero cuore di questa città, la cui mensa è straordinaria: c'è anche il menu BIO, cioè non solo quello vegetariano ma anche quello BIO! Per non parlare della scelta incredibile che avete!
L'unico sconveniente è che sti tedeschi (che in genere sono tranquilli ma qualche volta c'hanno delle scappate da pignolazzi) ti fanno pagare il piatto a peso: niente trucco di ammassare quindici cotolette, insalate e paste diverse sullo stesso piatto perciò pagando il prezzo di un solo piatto...
Ma c'è perfino una seconda saletta mensa per i dolci!
Unico neo: se la cucina tedesca non vi piace siete fregati. A me piace, però ci sarà un motivo se le nostre diete sono più sane.
Bene, detto questo?
Ancora ho parecchi pensieri da esprimere, però facciamola breve, sarà per la prossima volta...
In merito ai paesaggi le marche meritano davvero, ed è una fortuna che non siano molto conosciute ai turisti, così ce le possiamo godere tutte per noi...
D'altronde quest'anno le Marche sono in testa insieme alla Toscana per il numero di bandiere blu...
Beh che dire anche qui la primavera è fiorita e sinceramente trovo alcuni scorci davvero fantastici, per non parlare dei campi coltivati a Raps, un fiore giallo che copre letteralmente le colline (colline mpf... è tutto piattissimo!) di lenzuola color sole. Le temperature sono come quelle in Italia e in bicicletta si gira che è una meraviglia (beh, visto? forse il fatto che tutto sia piatto non è tutto sto gran male!).
Mi sono messo in testa che strade e case qui assomigliano un casino a quelle in Norvegia.
Ah! Ah-ah! A proposito di fiori! Questa la devo proprio raccontare.
Per capire a che grado di civilizzazione sono arrivati qui: Volete dei tulipani e narcisi per il balcone (beh il balcone gli edifici di centro città e molte delle casette monofamiliari a schiera non lo hanno, ma noi sì!) ?
Bene: potete trovare dei campi vicino alla strada, di quando in quando, coltivati a fiori, tulipani e narcisi. Lì vi troverete un cartello con il prezzo dei fiori, alcuni coltellini per asportarli e un contenitore per monete. Non c'è nessuno a controllare, ovviamente: chi mai ruberebbe tulipani?
...un italiano, un francese, uno spagnolo, un inglese e persino il fantasma formaggino.
Ma non un tedesco a quanto pare.
Uhm adesso che guardo meglio fuori, mi sono convinto che invece i campi somiglino un po' all'Olanda.
Ci sono dei boschi di piccole dimensioni oltre ai campi qua. Nella zona di Stoccarda ci sono aree boschive molto più ampie e anche colline e campi coltivati ad uva. Dicono sia una regione più mite (anche se è ad un'ora di strada da qui). E' una bella zona anche quella, e Stoccarda è una bella città, anche fuori dal centro urbano. Non ci sono neanche quei quartieracci di baracche per operai. Qui neppure però questa è una città più piccola. E forse anche un po' monotona dopo alcuni mesi.
L'università probabilmente è il vero cuore di questa città, la cui mensa è straordinaria: c'è anche il menu BIO, cioè non solo quello vegetariano ma anche quello BIO! Per non parlare della scelta incredibile che avete!
L'unico sconveniente è che sti tedeschi (che in genere sono tranquilli ma qualche volta c'hanno delle scappate da pignolazzi) ti fanno pagare il piatto a peso: niente trucco di ammassare quindici cotolette, insalate e paste diverse sullo stesso piatto perciò pagando il prezzo di un solo piatto...
Ma c'è perfino una seconda saletta mensa per i dolci!
Unico neo: se la cucina tedesca non vi piace siete fregati. A me piace, però ci sarà un motivo se le nostre diete sono più sane.
Bene, detto questo?
Ancora ho parecchi pensieri da esprimere, però facciamola breve, sarà per la prossima volta...
Fine delle lezioni, esami, bestialate
Interrompo il silenzio non per importanti riflessioni ma per mere minchiate. La serietà (e nuove foto ;)) verranno più tardi.
Antefatto: il mio coinquilino francese, come sapete, è uno stronzo che spesso mi tiene sveglio la notte. Stesso dicasi per i miei dirimpettai. Ho provato mille volte a ricambiargli il favore, svegliandomi la mattina presto e facendo partire musica ad alto volume, cercando di passare l'aspirapolvere, e mille altri tentativi del genere. Mi è sempre sfuggito: un giorno non era a casa, un'altro era già sveglio, ecc.
Fatto:Tra un paio d'ore ho l'esame di filosoffia greca. Stamattina però mi sono messo ad armeggiare in cucina e a fare qualche esperimento oltre alla mia solita fettina di pudding. nel mio esperimento c'era anche dello zucchero, e un mezzo cucchiaino di questo è caduto sulla piastra calda. Lo zucchero brucia più di quanto pensavo, così una vivida fiammata si è sprigionata, seguita a breve distanza dall'allarme antincendio! Già, il nemico di tutti i sonni a Belgrove ha iniziato a ringhiare, e questa mattina ho svegliato sia il suddetto stronzo che la sua ragazza (ugualmente transalpina) che dormiva con lui.
Le lezioni sono finite e l'atmosfera qua è moscia. Il sole è arrivato e gli irlandesi stanno di fuori a giocare a pallone invece di studiare, che novità. Ogni tanto piove anche, come oggi, ma è fisionomico.
Cercherò di tenervi aggiornati in questi pochi aihmé giorni che mi rimangono in Irlanda.
Antefatto: il mio coinquilino francese, come sapete, è uno stronzo che spesso mi tiene sveglio la notte. Stesso dicasi per i miei dirimpettai. Ho provato mille volte a ricambiargli il favore, svegliandomi la mattina presto e facendo partire musica ad alto volume, cercando di passare l'aspirapolvere, e mille altri tentativi del genere. Mi è sempre sfuggito: un giorno non era a casa, un'altro era già sveglio, ecc.
Fatto:Tra un paio d'ore ho l'esame di filosoffia greca. Stamattina però mi sono messo ad armeggiare in cucina e a fare qualche esperimento oltre alla mia solita fettina di pudding. nel mio esperimento c'era anche dello zucchero, e un mezzo cucchiaino di questo è caduto sulla piastra calda. Lo zucchero brucia più di quanto pensavo, così una vivida fiammata si è sprigionata, seguita a breve distanza dall'allarme antincendio! Già, il nemico di tutti i sonni a Belgrove ha iniziato a ringhiare, e questa mattina ho svegliato sia il suddetto stronzo che la sua ragazza (ugualmente transalpina) che dormiva con lui.
Le lezioni sono finite e l'atmosfera qua è moscia. Il sole è arrivato e gli irlandesi stanno di fuori a giocare a pallone invece di studiare, che novità. Ogni tanto piove anche, come oggi, ma è fisionomico.
Cercherò di tenervi aggiornati in questi pochi aihmé giorni che mi rimangono in Irlanda.
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