SALZBURG

So the day after Auschwitz was pretty much a day of driving through Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia en route to Austria. Now, Poland was a mission to get out of. It took us three hours to get 100 miles through Poland and Czech Republic. And that was a bit annoying because we had seven or so hours worth of driving ahead of us as it was.

Anyhoo, the scenery got much better once we left Poland and feckin' Auschwitz behind - mountains and trees and what-not spreading out as far as the eye could see. Divine, and stuff. In the mean time I finished two books and Lee and Adam swapped driving positions occasionally. I dreamt of Moira Stewart. All was well.

Got to Salzburg to our comedy hotel. You know the pictures on tins of biscuits with lots of Aryan children frolicking in fields wearing lederhosen? And how your Gran seems to have a lot of figurines depicting such a scene? Well, yeah. We're staying in that scene. The double bed is four-poster, the light fixtures have antlers attached and the whole thing smells very strongly of old people's perfume. Not that this is altogether unpleasant, but when you realise that even Lee's really pungent natural aroma cannot penetrate the hotel's ambient smell, you start to become worried.

So we had some food and crashed pretty early in preparation of the trekkage that the day ahead would bring.

Not that there was much fucking point, as Adam's snoring was so chronic that Lee actually took his duvet and went to sleep in the car at around 4am. I shit you not. Adam couldn't give a flying fuck. He actually woke up when I jabbed him in the ribs for the millionth time, and when I told him to roll onto his front he simply said 'It won't make much difference', then proceeded to go back to sleep and start snoring.

CUNT.

Weirdly enough, me and Lee both dreamt about giant spiders. We have no idea why. I have only dreamt the same dream as someone else on one previous occasion -- with Alicia, while we were at opposite ends of the country. I shan't go into the details here, but suffice to say they were pretty much identical dreams. She is a bit psychic and we have been friends all our lives, so I suppose it follows. As with mine and Lee's dream.

So we sent off to Berchtesgaden, which is about 30km from Salzburg, back over the border into Germany. Man, this is confusing. Anyhoo, the point of being there was to visit the Eagle's Nest - Hitler's summer home. Now, none of us realised that this was high up in the mountains. Like 1837 metres above sea level. Thats roughly 6800 feet high. So we parked up and got on the cable car, which was slightly terrifying, as cable cars are, but not helped by the fact that each one was pretty much open air and seated only four people. It's the same feeling you get on a fairground ride - I'm sure this is safe, but it's been safe for like a hundred years and something is bound to go wrong at some point.

But it didn't and we made it up the mountain...only to find that there was a 15 minute walk...followed by a bus ride...followed by a lift...which would finally take us to the Eagle's Nest and the peak of the mountain. So after this TRIAL, we finally got out on top of the mountain. I immediately stumbled, Lee's legs began to shake, and we all began to yawn. Oh, yes indeed, the air was certainly thinner up there. In fact, it was so thin that while waiting in the queue for the lift me and Lee actually had a fit of the giggles - you remember the ludicrous kind you got the second time you ever smoked weed? Yeah, that happened.

Anyhoo, we ascended in the lift and emerged into glorious sunlight, and what I can only describe as some of the best views I have ever had the privelege to experience.




So that made it all worth it. For the record, the Eagle's Nest has now been converted into a restaurant so has little to do with Hitler or history. Although I was kinda glad of this as I had been worried that every holiday I take with Lee and Adam was going to turn into some feckin' tour of the third reich points of interest. Alack, not. The scenery was worth it.

We had a fantastic dinner in a charming place in the Baroque quarter of Salzburg this evening, and I think we strolled through one of the gardens where they filmed part of 'The Sound Of Music', which thrilled me very much. So I'm absolutely knackered now and we have a long drive ahead of us back to the UK tomorrow. I shall blog my final thoughts on the whole debacle on Friday. Or Saturday. Maybe Sunday. Whenever I recover enough to put it in perspective basically.

So now you know, don't be scared.

Peace xx

AUSCHWITZ - BIRKENAU

So we managed to have a pretty civilized evening yesterday and had a good night's sleep. Adam's snoring did wake me a couple of times throughout the night, but a well aimed jab in the ribs quickly remedied that situation and it was a mostly peaceful evening. That was lucky because today was to be our long day of visiting Auschwitz and Birkenau.

I was somewhat ambivelant about visiting the camps. On the one hand, I had wanted to do it for some time. It's something I think everyone should do, if only to more fully understand something that, incredibly, happened within living memory. And the whole thing has been so mythologised by books, television, films etc -- the holocaust seems to be departing into the realms of the wild west in popular culture. I wanted to see it for myself. But I also recalled now our trip to Normandy last year and the impact of seeing the mass graveyards at Omaha beach. It was the first time any of us had indulged in collective grief on such a grand scale, and we were definitely unprepared for the emotion that was brought forth. But Omaha beach would be a puddle of misery compared to the tsunami that Auschwitz would surely unleash.

I had heard a lot about what you see, hear, smell, feel while at Auschwitz. As you read previously, I had been surprised to find that the town next to the camp wasn't a dreary backwater full of miserable people where sunlight failed to penetrate. That should have given me my first clue to what I personally would experience at Auschwitz. This morning was beautiful - sunny and clear. We drove off to our destination not without trepidation, and as we drove down a road which ran adjacent to some of the blocks where prisoners were kept, I felt my stomach tighten considerably. I think we all bristled slightly and am willing to bet we all had the thought that this was a terrible, terrible idea.

This tension was broken pretty swiftly, however. Remember yesterday I told you how Adam couldn't remember whether he had booked a hotel or not, and we ended up just rocking up at one of them and booking a room on the spot? Well, the plot thickened. During dinner, Adam got a call from the hotel he had ACTUALLY booked, somewhere in the town, wondering where he was and when he would be turning up. Of course by then we were in this other gaff so Adam had to apologise and tell them there had been a cock up. Presently, as we drove down a long, desolate road, Birkenau to our left and Auschwitz to our right, numerous small buildings in between, we were just about to pull into the Auschwitz car park when Adam suddenly saw an imposing grey building across the road and exclaimed 'That's the one! That's the hotel I'd booked!' Fuck a duck. This gaff was literally across the road from the death camp, and looked fucking hideous. Evidently Adam forgetting about hotels and what not was a most fortuitous occurence.

Back to the narrative of the day. The sun was still shining beautifully as we got into the camp and joined a tour group. Apparently you're not allowed to wonder round Auschwitz unaccompanied, and although I was a bit miffed at the beginning, as I stupidly thought we would be herded around like a bunch of mindless tourists, but it turned out that our guide knew exactly what she was doing. The place runs like clockwork.

So there was the usual. We were shown the gate, the watch tower, the famous sign which greeted deportees. There were the usual exhibits with old pictures we had seen a thousand times before. But things quickly got pretty deep. There were piles of suitcases that had been taken from murdered Jews, who were told to write their names and dates of birth on them to maintain the illusion that they would eventually get their luggage back. Next up, there were piles of shoes -- thousands and thousands of shoes. Each pair had been part of an outfit. Each pair was a choice someone made when they thought they were heading for a new existence in Poland. Each pair was a life. Same with the piles of glasses. One couldn't help but imagine them being ripped away from their owner and tossed into a pile in one of the vast warehouses at Birkenau. Hence why they were displayed in their thousands as one, single, twisted mess. There were hair combs, tins of polish, and probably most shockingly of all to me, two tonnes of real human hair that had been shaved from the prisoners upon their arrival. There it was, behind a glass case, this endless sea of different shades. These were the last physical remnants of lives which had been gone for 65 years or more.

We saw the prison block, with tiny cells that had standing room only. We saw the death wall, where people were shot dead in their hundreds. Finally we were taken across to Birkenau, about 3km away. Its the one with the huge gatehouse that the railway track runs right through. There is very little left of Birkenau, having consisted almost entirely of wooden brigs where prisoners were held before they were gassed in chambers at the far end of the compound. These had been destroyed with dynamite just before liberation in an attempt by the Nazis to cover up their crimes. The brigs were dismantled after the war, so that now Birkenau resembles a vast field dotted here and there by a brick chimney. After the suffocating closeness of Auschwitz, the green expanse of Birkenau was something of a relief. Finally, we ended at the memorial located right at the end of those famous railway tracks, and were left to wonder and take it all in as we saw fit.

This all sounds like it should have been a miserable, draining experience. It truly wasn't. I expected to feel like I was trudging through a dark, heavy cloud of gloom. I thought that the misery of the one and a half million souls that had perished there would have permeated mine. But they didn't. We've all been to those kind of places -- old castles or dungeons or whatever, where they really try to ham up the drama of what had taken place there, and really ram it down your throat in a pathetic attempt to give you an 'experience'; not so at Auschwitz. The tour is pretty matter of fact; perhaps this is because the facts speak for themselves. And that is the overwhelming feeling I have. Auschwitz and Berkenau are not there to impress you with a gimmick, draw you into their legend, or depress you. They are a memorial, they are treated as such, and they speak for themselves: they seem to say 'Here we are. This is what happened here'

Perhaps it was because the sun shone so brightly and brilliantly all day. We pondered later that perhaps our perception of these places had been skewed because of this. So, we decided to wait until dark and head back out to the huge, looming gates of Birkenau and see if we didn't change our minds about what we felt there. We jumped in the car, and sped back through the night. The gates loomed out of the darkness and we parked the car. We got out. We walked up to the fences. We looked at the barracks in the blackness. We saw the train tracks disappear into the shadows. We saw the guard tower jutting out into the night sky. And still, I felt no different. It stood as it has always stood. As a memorial. Even darkness couldn't scare me into feeling that there was something ominous and sinister there. There was no fear in me whatsoever.

As you walk through Birkenau, you look around and see the grass that grows around the train tracks and derelict barracks is lush and green and dotted with daisies and dandelions. Birds even fly through the trees that line the crumbling gas chambers. This is a place to reflect and remember. The harsh misery of all those souls is gone now, replaced by something resembling peacefulness and serenity. Perhaps they are still there, wondering the tree-lined roads between the blocks of Auschwitz, no longer subject to the pain and agony that marked the end of their lives. I don't know where that energy could have gone; all I know is the camps are free, the huts are burned, and we try our best not to atone but remember. Meryl Streep and Stephen Spielberg may have their Oscars, but for Auschwitz and Birkenau it is the truth of their continued immovable presence that is a greater testament than any fictional legend.

So now you know, don't be scared.

Peace xx

ONWARDS

So the day in Brussels ended with a meal, some fine beers and collapsing into bed rather early as we had to begin our long drive across the continent the next day. Adam's snoring was giving cause for concern, but seeing as he within elbow jabbing distance I wasn't worried that much. More on that story later.

So we arose the next morning to our continental breakfast, deciding to stock up on pain au chocolat and a worrying array of jams and nutellas that Lee insisted would come in handy. However the goon did very well in nabbing an entire bottle of orange juice from under the buffet table which we then made off with into the bright, brisk morning.

Getting out of Brussels was, once again, a fucking nightmare. That city has not one, but TWO ring roads and all we knew was that we were stuck on at least one of them. So after about an hour of driving randomly in a circle, during which time we got some hasty shots of pretty buildings just to show that we had seen more things than in reality we had during our time there, we managed to make it onto the motorway or freeway or autobahn or whatever the cock they call it, and we were away.

We left Belgium behind pretty quickly and crossed into Germany. No, there is no difference apart from the road signs become much, much more amusing. 'Ausfhart', which means 'Exit', for example, cropped up many times along the way. Look, we were in that car for five fucking hours. There wasn't much to do and I could only read my book for certain lengths of time before I felt like I was going absolutely bananas. But anyway, we made it to our destination: Wolfsburg. I had no idea why we were stopping there, and as we approached this strange little town, my heart sank a little.

The main aim of this part of the trip, you see, was to get across Europe as quick as possible so we could get to Auschwitz, which is in Poland. That's quite far, so would involve at least one night's stop somewhere along the way. Now, rather than stick a pin in a map, Adam did some research and found that if we had to stop in any old place it might as well be Wolfsburg because they have a Volkswagen plant and museum we could visit (Adam had a mark II Golf GTI for a number of years and we have a lot of fond memories), so at least we could give some purpose and structure to the rest stop.

So, let's read that sentence again: all Wolfsburg has in it is a Volkswagen plant and museum. It's basically like you came to England and were driving from London to Manchester and had to stay in Milton Keynes or Swindon for a night. Yes, this town was pretty grim. Our hotel looked like a working men's club and was run by a couple of middle aged lezzers. Not what I had in mind for a grand European adventure. But one should never judge a book by it's cover. We went out for dinner at a charming place, which was cheap and damned good, the beer was pretty cheap too and in the morning we had the best damn breakfast ever. Seriously, the lezzers had laid on quite a spread. There must have been 20 different types of sausage available to us. That was just what we needed after a night of Adam's dreadful, demonic snoring. It's like he has Zuul or Gozer or a fucking pencil eraser stuck in the middle of his face struggling to get out. Rest assured, I will be lobbing shoes at him if he carries on this evening. So all in all, Wolfsburg was kinda grim but not half bad!

So today was a colossal 8-hour drive to Auschwitz. It wasn't particularly painful: Lee and Adam took it in turns to drive, I plowed through my books and slept a bit. Although once we actually got over the border into Poland, the roads became really shit and the atmosphere somewhat depressing. I mean, sorry, but Poland is pretty dumpy. And seeing as our final destination was Auschwitz, my thoughts turned to exactly who's idea this whole depressing leg of the journey was. Then I remembered that when the European road trip idea was presented, I was the one who demanded to come to Auschwitz. So I shut up.

Anyhoo, so we arrived in Auschwitz, which is really rather a quaint town, thank FUCK. It was then that Adam decided to announce that he didn't know which hotel he'd booked and, in fact, whether he'd booked it at all. So we headed for one that looked quite, ya know, leafy, and barreled up in the hope we had a reservation. The moody Polack bird on the desk was a bit rude at first when she found we hadn't booked, but as soon as we handed over the cash for a couple of night's stay she was the soul of politeness. Bloody Poles. They never change. So anyway, the gaff we're staying in is pretty nice, and just down the road from the whole DEATH CAMP thing, though we can't actually see the gates from our balcony so that's good I suppose.

So all that reading I did today was pretty exhausting so I think it's dinner, beers and bed. Tomorrow we are doing the DEATH CAMP thing, which I'm looking forward to but it is going to be fucking excruciating. Then I have a pizza place that Alicia recommended to find, if I haven't shot myself in the face. After that, it's Salzburg the next day ('Sound of Music' museum, here I come), followed by Munich and Oktoberfest! Yey!

Now you know, don't be scared.

Peace xx

BRUSSELS

HELLO DEARS.

To keep me sane during my week-long adventure with my brothers, and to keep you all informed of the lollersome antics, I decided to write a daily blog about the experience.

So, day one.

I got off to a somewhat shaky start due to the fact I had partaken in a drinking binge the evening before. Lack of food followed by trips to the Fitz, Three Jolly Butchers, back to the Fitz, onto a rather blurry Fishbowl (as oftentimes it is) and finally a nightcap at mine while watching 'Bedknobs and Broomsticks' was a bit of a silly idea, admittedly. Especially as I haven't really been drunk in a while. What the hell. I wanted to kick up my heels and wallow in my own crapulence.

So I was shaken awake at some ungodly hour by Lee begging me to get up and start packing. Oh yeah, I hadn't packed or anything. So it was all a bit hectic. Adam had been packing for about three weeks for some reason, so I had a lot of catching up to do. When I finally managed to unglue my eyes, I could see the genuine fear in Lee's. He didn't want Adam turning up all irate and shit, which oftentimes he is apt to do.

So I lay there in my fug while I directed Lee in the packing operations. Due to his lack of common sense and my own debilitated state, this seemed to amount to him throwing all of my t-shirts in the case, some socks (which, to my credit, were already in pairs), and some undercrackers, whereas the main bulk of operations was focused on which CDs to take with us. And yes, there's a lot of Madonna. Only ONE Tori Amos album -- this is because I discovered, to my horror, that I've leant out all of her CDs to people and have yet to get them back. But fear not, good reader. 'Pon my return I shall set out on a mission to find them, recover them, and love them. Then we can have a Tori Amos party. Oh, what fun.

Anyhoo, Adam turned up and enlisted Yolande to put my case in some sort of order, which she did impeccably, and after several cups of tea and a trip to the pasty shop, we were ready to go. I had my face squished into the window with a look of despair on my face more or less the whole time, but the lovely Kate Bush soundtrack was rather soothing. Getting on the Euro tunnel thingy was also painless. I got a copy of the Telegraph on the cheap (I know, I know. But it was discounted at Smith's. And, um, for some reason its the only newspaper in the country that manages to spell 'Pope' with a capital 'P'. Respect.), and settled down in the back of the car. But no-one ever told me how bloody quick the train is. I had just manouevered myself into a position with a modicum of comfort when it was announced that we would be on the road in a few minutes. Balls, I would have to sit up and pay attention to the bastard French countryside. Look, I've done France quite a lot. There's nothing new or interesting to see from the motorway. Belgium, by the way, is no different, so don't think I was suddenly inspired to give a shit just because we crossed the border.

Anyhoo, at this point I rummaged around and found Adam's 'travel pillow'. This turned out to be a cushion from his scabby sofa, but it was the best I could do so I covered in Lee's scabby hoody, wedged myself down, and slept pretty much until Brussels.

'Pon arrival in Brussels, Adam realised he only had a google maps print-out of the several streets immediately surrounding the location of the hotel. Long story short, we did an entire lap of Brussels on the ring road (which doesn't take as long as you think. But it does have a few tunnels teaming with carcenogens, yuk), then stopped at a bus stop to check the city map. This proved to be the cleverest thing anyone had done all day, and we found the hotel pretty quickly - before anyone could really get their rage on. Woop! I was slightly worried as we drove round as all I could see was conference centres and hotels. I think that's the only reason anyone comes to Brussels, right? (I suggested gate crashing a conference, but the idea didn't really take with the other two. I wanted to have free coffee and nick stuff. Like pens.) I was relieved as we got further into the ancient centre and saw that it is really a rather pretty city.

The pic is what I can see from our hotel. It's called 'Moon Hotel' - how delightfully whimsical! I am filled with LOLZ. Righto, Lee is getting hungry so we're off to look at more pretty things and feed ourselves.

Now you know, don't be scared.

Peace xx