Bavaria and Austria

I flew to Salzburg in mid-June for a weekend road trip through Bavaria and western Austria. But stupid me left my portable hard drive in the hire car, with most of my photos on it. Between that and the non-stop madness of the summer, it's only now, three months later, that I've had a chance to post my photos!

For many years now, I've wanted to visit the Kehlsteinhaus, pictured above, and colloquially known as Hitler's Eagle's Nest. It's one of the few remaining intact Nazi-built structures that is remembered as such, and its history is provided in full detail by the tour guides, in a factual manner, without glorification. Designed by Albert Speer, the Kehlsteinahus was built in secret, and presented to Hitler as a gift on the occasion of his 50th birthday in 1938. It was intended to be the showpiece of the party's extensive Bavarian headquarters in Obersalzburg, near Berchtesgaden. And it certainly is impressive, perched on the edge of a steep peak with spectacular 360º views.

Even the trip to the Kehlsteinhaus is impressive: in special coaches that travel up a single-lane road that was etched into the rockface. The mountain road terminates at a car park, with a single stone arch leading into the mountain. Through the arch, one walks about 100m into the mountain in a stone-lined tunnel. At the end is a chandelier-lit waiting room, where one waits for the large brass elevator to take one up inside the mountain, opening directly inside the Kehlsteinhaus. It's all very James Bond villain. One half expects to see Blofeld's white cat lurking around the summit.

The Eagle's Nest was designed to impress foreign dignitaries, and it certainly does impress. It seems to me that National Socialism became the dominant political force on the back of one of the world's first successful mass PR exercises, ie propaganda, rather than an ideological agreement among the people. At the Kehlsteinhaus, one certainly gets a sense of how the German people were seduced by that showmanship.

After the Kehlsteinhaus, I drove to the adjacent towns of Berchtesgaden and Königsee. The latter is famous for its beautiful fjord-like lake. You can take a boat trip to an isolated Byzantine church, but I didn't have time... the only way to enter the lake is from the small bay at Königsee.

Before returning to Salzburg that evening, I detoured back into Bavaria to visit Hohenwerfen, a beautiful mediaeval fortress built on a steep hill. This stunning castle dates from the 11th century and was variously used a palace, a hunting retreat, and a prison. It's also famed for its falconry tradition. If Hohenwerfen looks familiar, you might remember it from Where Eagles Dare, and in the background of the "Do Re Mi" sequence in The Sound of Music.

Salzburg is a pretty town, especially in the old town... but it's outer-lying regions did seem a little lacklustre, and like Brussels, could have been Anywhere, Europe. Of particular interest to me were the Mirabell Gardens, and the Hohensalzburg Fortress that overlooks the town. From the castle, one can see a solitary house in a field. This was the executioner's house; no-one wanted to live near him!

Next stop on my road trip was Innsbruck, via the autobahn that snakes back and forth across the German/Austrian border. Innsbruck is a lovely old town, set in a valley between some very high mountain ranges. It was quite thrilling to see planes taking off from, and flying in to, Innsbruck; despite the height of the aircraft, they were still dwarfed by the mountainous terrain behind the town. Innsbruck hosted the 1964 Winter Olympics, and the Bergisel ski jump, built for those games, were recently renovated. I was able to snap a few photographs of a ski jumper practising on the Bergisel's jump. In lieu of snow, rubber mats are placed on the slope, and wet down by sprinklers prior to the jump.

The final stop on my trip was the beautiful fairytale castle of Neuschwanstein. Built by mad King Ludwig II of Bavaria, the castle is perched on a hill top against some beautiful Bavarian forest. Neuschwanstein later inspired Disney's Sleeping Beauty castle. Ludwig apparently planned a third castle, Falkenstein, the most fairytale-like of them all, but he died under mysterious circumstances before he had the chance. Ludwig's building programme bankrupted him. Neuschwanstein was not finished before he died, and the government ceased work upon his death. Rumour has it, the Bavarian government had him done in, in fear of the king ransacking the state's treasury. In World War II, the Nazis stored stolen "Nazi gold" in Neuschwanstein. Before the end of the war, the gold reserves were removed, and, according to legend, were dumped in nearby Alat Lake.

All of my Salzburg photographs can be viewed in a slideshow here. And my photographs of Bavaria are in their own slideshow here.

Bittersweet Symphony

One of the greatest annoyances of London life, as noted in my list of 16 things, is how pedestrians will hog narrow Victorian-era footpaths, without nary a thought for the hundreds of other people who also need to share the space.

Earlier this week I had cause to rewatch the music video for The Verve's Bittersweet Symphony. It's an old favourite of mine (and for many others, I gather), with soulful lyrics detailing one man's struggle of adversity of life, set against a beautiful strings score (sampled from a Rolling Stones song, apparently). But it's only now, nine years after I first saw it, and after living in London, that I really get the video. Sure, the video's story is one with global appeal, but nothing else I've seen nails the dilemma of walking on London's footpaths. It's really hard to describe the self-absorbed rudeness of some people in London. They dawdle down the street, hogging the footpath, on their phone, or zoned out listening to their iPod, and absolutely refuse to budge from a pre-determined flight path. And the problem only gets worse with a group of people, because no-one walks single-file.

Like the other ex-pats I know here, one's first response is to naturally be polite and make way for other people, but that quickly wears you out. There are just too many people in London, and far too much rudeness, for that to work. So instead, like the guy in the video, you start bracing yourself, holding firm like Gibraltar, and barge through the bastards until they start making way for you. London hardens. The city promotes selfishness, but the corollary of that argument is that you have to look after yourself, because no-one else will.

Click the YouTube link at the top of this post to watch The Verve's Bittersweet Symphony. The video was filmed in Hoxton, in the East End. Richard Ashcroft, The Verve's lead singer, is featured in the video. He starts his journey at 94 Hoxton Road, walking north on the east side of the road. Here is a map.

Megapixels Doubled!

Phone contracts are crazy in the United Kingdom. On paper, handset contracts look more expensive than SIM only plans. But once you deduct the chequeback redemption, pay monthly plans, including a new handset, cost only a fraction more than a SIM Only plan. So, with my contract up, I signed up again with O2 and the Carphone Warehouse for a new Sony Ericsson K800i. This is the new version of my previous handset, with some great new features. Bigger screen, 320x240 pixel resolution, RSS subscriber/reader, a 3.2 megapixel camera with image stabilizer, and a xenon (ie true) flash for the camera. It's the best phone I've ever used.

But as my new phone offers comparable resolution to my Canon S1 IS camera, I decided now is the perfect time to make the jump to a new Canon S3 IS. It has a host of new features, not least of which double the resolution at 6 megapixels. I got the camera off eBay, refurbished by Canon UK, at a steal for £240.

This past weekend, I had a perfect opportunity to try out both cameras. On Saturday and Sunday was London Open House, where various important buildings around the city are opened to the public for viewing. Many of these buildings are normally off-limits. Sadly, I missed out on a booking for The Gherkin, but so did most of London - apparently tickets for both days sold out in ten minutes.

But I did get to:

- tour inside the Lloyd's of London building. In a word, amazing;

- see the construction site of 201 Bishopsgate Tower, soon to be the third highest building in the City, built over (and carefully straddling) the outbound lines from Liverpool Street Station (which, I learned, is the busiest train station in Europe);

- look inside the beautiful Art Deco foyer of the Daily Express building at 120 Fleet Street (now the London office of Goldman Sachs);

- see the Limehouse Accumulator, once used to pressurise the extensive Victorian-era hydraulic power system that stretched from the Docklands to the West End (and was still operational until 1976!)

- visit Balfron Tower in the Docklands, designed by Ernő Goldfinger in the brutalist style (Incidentally, this architect lived near, and was disliked by, Ian Fleming. In an act of vengeance, Fleming appropriated the Ernő's surname for that of the most memorable Bond villain);

- join a tour of notable City buildings (Swiss Re, Lloyd's, Plantation Place, City Hall), conducted by ARUP engineers who were involved in their construction.

Later that evening, I went to Dust for a going away party. Greg's sister, Rani, is going home to Brisbane, after six years in London.

Voting, Irwin, and Greer

Has the world gone mad? Am I one of the few Australians left in the world who is trying to maintain a healthy sense of perspective over Steve Irwin's death? And why do people care so much what Germaine Greer has to say? Is she not entitled to her own view? Has Australia rapidly degenerated into a national socialist Fatherland of Howard since I left? And just how many Australians have taken the time to read Greer's original article published in The Guardian, earlier this week?

Without a doubt, it's very sad that a man has died, and it's extremely sad for his family... but how many other people died that day? Why should Greer be denied a voice, simply because she disagrees with the jingoism of Australia's collective response? It seems to me that Germaine Greer - with all her eccentricity - is just as uniquely an Australian "character" as Steve Irwin was... and both should be equally embraced. And apropos her benign article, there is nothing that isn't worth mentioning. The only thing that I question, is whether it was appropriate to publish the article so soon after Irwin's death. Would it have hurt to wait a week? Probably not, but it seems that Greer, through her article, is attempting to stem the absurdity of headlines like "Australia's Diana", which The Sun used on Tuesday. Would the Brits do the same thing, I wonder, if David Attenborough passed away unexpectedly?

First thing Monday morning, I suggested to a work colleague that "next, they'll offer a state funeral". And sure enough, "the greatest leader in the world" John Howard did exactly that. Did he hope to book John Farnham to sing at the funeral? The whole state funeral thing is the icing on the cake. It reeks of political favouritism, especially as the same offer was extended to Kerry Packer some months back.

There was a Steve Irwin condolence book at Queensland House, when I visited the government office, on the Strand, on Tuesday, to vote in the forthcoming Queensland elections. Apparently, Australia House is only used for voting when it's a Fedeal Election, which I find a little interesting. Perhaps this is a throwback to the oft-forgotten idea that Australia is a federation of states? Australia House is undergoing renovation work at the moment, to install bollards every 2 feet around its perimeter. Check out this photo for an under-construction cutaway.