Pillnitz

I am as relaxed as I ever will be!

Flight over relatively painless with
intermittent naps and a good sleep on my first night in Dresden. The bike is here and I am pulling at the bit or itching on the derailleur, whatever is the best metaphor?

It’s a great cycle. I feel like Mulga Bill! I had not been on any bike for a month in Adelaide.

One of the reasons I am not so anxious is the fact that I don’t feel the pressure of needing to be at a certain village on a specific date! In fact as long as I am in Vienna around 21 st September, I can do what I want and if I fall behind, take the train! Some of you may remember it’s what the English Couple on the Camino did last year. He a publisher, she a paediatric ophthalmologist. Want I want to know is “did they see eye to eye”?

I rode into Dresden and back today, 50 km all up. I have had a couple of pub meals – bread roll, bratwurst , mustard and a beer. In fact I have had TWO beers and the German wench at the next table is starting to look somewhat attractive to me. Well it was a very large bratwurst!

Across the Elbe river from where I am staying at the Therese Malten Villa- is the Pillnitz Palace, the stunning summer residence of the saxony kings from 1720. I think the best analogy is that it is in concept similar to the French Palace of Versailles and whilst the gardens are not so formal, they are spectacularly natural yet with a pleasing symmetrical structure. The garden has the oldest living camellia bush in Europe – more than 300 years. Tea anyone?

I had an Alice in Wonderland happening at this Pillnitz Palace,

An original sandstone guard house had been converted to the ticket office. She sat at a window – in fact a beautifully crafted heavy wood double casement window one of which was wide open. I offered my 10 Euro bill to pay the 8 Euro admission price to her. She gave a rather brusque start and indicated to me, what I had not noticed till then: the bottom few centimeters of the casement had been replaced with one of those gleaming stainless steel trays that bank tellers use for their security and transactions. The rather efficacious woman pushed it out, I placed my 10 euro on the tray, she pulled it back, placed change and ticket in the tray and pushed it out again!

Now let me hold your hand and walk you through this interaction in case you missed the nuances here!

The ticket person is in a small office with one shutter window wide open and sitting less than an arm’s length away. It is surely a natural and human instinct to interact with one’s fellow man at a personal level? So my attempt to simply hand her ” in person” through the wide open window, my money was intuitive, all the more so that I did not see the security tray anyway. I was incredulous! I felt like Alice in Wonderland, having a nonsensical argument with the Queen of Hearts – or if you feel it more appropriate – I felt like the Queen having an altercation with Alice. Indeed the analogy with me as the Queen of Hearts is better, as I had a definite urge to screech “off with her head” to Alice the ticket lady.

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It only seems like yesterday

A year to the day, the 24th August 2012, I was in Spain, riding the Camino , and had reached the town of Sarria, more of a dirty modern city really. It was the only disappointing destination of the Camino.

My accommodation, allegedly 3 star, the Hotel Alfonso IX was at once forgettable yet memorable – it was a depressing, dark and dingy multi-storey “box” that had seen in the past 4 or even 5 stars. Secondly it was obviously THE place to stay in Sarria. Around 6 pm a white stretched limousine pulled up and out stepped a stylish middle aged woman, predictably with cigarette in mouth, and a male companion looking like a disheveled Luciano Pavarotti also smoking, but a cigar. Lest you jump to the wrong conclusion, remember that the real Pavarotti had died from pancreatic carcinoma a few years previously!

Imagine my surprise when, about 30 minutes later, drifting through what were very thin walls, came the sound of a voice, singing. A tenor, then in answer, the soprano! For the next 45 minutes I was treated to the equivalent of high quality “Muzak”… As they trilled and tra-la-la-ed up and down their scales. Of course it was possible that they were in reality having mad passionate sex with the sound system on high. But the next morning I did verify their singing as there was a flyer advertising a concert of operatic bel canto delights in the Sarria town hall the previous evening. Moreover both singers were in the foyer, each smoking and autographing a photo of themselves, for the impressed bellboy! Bellboys in Spain and especially in Sarria, were obviously classically educated.

As I am now learning the Recorder, I wonder, if I returned to the Alfonso IX, would I stand a chance with the bellboy? I would even tolerate a cigarette in my mouth if that would add to the attraction! However smoking a cigarette and playing the Recorder at the same time would require sucking and blowing simultaneously, a feat I suspect even my teacher could not manage, despite her years of practice and on the double reed what’s more.

If, in my wildest dreams, the bellboy was swept off his feet, by this smoking Recorder player, we would settle down in Spain together and open a pub, named obviously “The Weed and Whistle”.

But the name of the hotel provoked my curiosity. Who was this effeminate sounding Alfonso, of which there had been at least 9? Well he was the King of Leon born in 1171 died 1230, and certainly not a fairy, for he fathered 21 children by 5 wives and in addition sired some 15 “bastards”. By my reckoning, his wives and offspring would have occupied every single room of the modern Hotel Alfonso IX, especially the Bridal Suite. Imagine the noise through those thin walls!

One of his daughters married into the Ponce de Leon family, but they were “without issue”- An utterly predictable outcome , when the groom has the family name of “ponce”.

Finally, Alfonso is said to have been called the “Baboso” or “Slobberer” because he was subject to fits of rage during which he foamed at the mouth.

So here I sit in flight on an Emirates Boeing 777 to Frankfurt on the 24th August 2013. A new bike awaits me in Dresden. My Recorder in my luggage, practicing sucking and blowing as I listen to a concerto for Bassoon and Orchestra, (in deference to my music teacher).

Addendum: after an hour of experimentation (seated in 11F Business Class) and thanks in part to my anatomical training, I think I have the answer – gentle blowing through the mouth, tonguing the Recorder at the same time, whilst just as gently, drawing in through the nose. The down side is that this manouvre can only be successful if I draw gently on the cigarette inserted up one nostril and block the other with a cotton ball, simultaneously with the Recorder in my mouth. There is a niggling doubt that unless the Bellboy is visually impaired, it may not achieve the desired outcome…..The woman in seat 11E has just activated the call button and requested she change seats.

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A Czech cycling holiday

Its a year almost to the day that I flew out for Europe and 3 months Long Service Leave. Bitter sweet memories and now I am, in 4 weeks, about to travel again. ON 24th August I will fly to Frankfurt, high speed train to Dresden, collect a NEW hybrid bike. On order from a Dresden bike shop.

Have booked a couple of tours already – predictaby. the Dresden Statsopera!

The planned cycle route is

Dresden to Prague
Prague to Linz
Linz to Vienna

I have accommodation booked for Dresden, Prague and Vienna. Where I stay on the road is, up in the air! Throw caution to the wind..

click on each picture to zoom in!