9.3 KiB
| title | description |
|---|---|
| Mr. Worldwide, Pt. 1: Europe | Or: How I stopped worrying and learned to love tomatoes. |
TODO
Outline
- The Second Leg
- Munich
- No more pictures, no more tourism
- Diet
- Belgium
- Brussels
- Communism and french fries
- Comic book museum
- Drawing
- Bruges
- Beer
- A fucking expensive fairytale
- So cold, so scarfed
- Camina Del Santiago
- Brussels
- UK
- London
- Cost of museums, theft of culture
- Dublin
- Housing problems
- Glendalough
- Edinburgh
- Reading/Writing
- Harry Fucking Potter
- London
- Amsterdam
- Pub crawl (partying vs ...)
- Van Gogh
- Weed
- Sex (museum)
- Copenhagen
- Freedom (Christiania)
- So many chairs
- Stockholm
- Tradition
- Berlin
- History
- Movie
- Prague
- Wandering
- Planning
- Munich
- The Third Leg
- Munich
- Alps, Olympics
- Passport
- Venice
- Beauty in spite of tourism
- Rijeka
- Hitchikers
- A strange beauty
- Vienna
- Riches and empire
- A day at the palace
- The Couchsurfing Cult
- Athens
- Culture
- History
- Munich
Munich, Germany
On Febrary 14th I returned to Munich. Having been on the road for a little over 3 weeks, I was utterly exhausted, and neglected to take any pictures at all. In fact, I hardly remember what I did there, except go to the library a lot. Munich has a fantastic public library, which I spent a considerable amount of time at every time I was in town. I'd create my rough plans of where to go next there, as well as do miscellaneous coding and writing. I was through being a tourist.
After Rome I had begun really putting my strategy of "wander around and see what calls out to me" to the test. By the time I was in Munich it had really sunk in, and the only thing which really called to me in Munich was the peace and quiet of the library during the day, and hanging out with Caitlin and her friends at night. For the rest of the trip I wouldn't take so many pictures as I had been doing, and wouldn't go way out of my way to see something which didn't truly interest me.
After I left Italy I had begun eating differently too. Italy is, obviously, known for two foods: pasta and pizza, and I had a lot of those while I was there. At one point I had the awkward experience of an Italian guy asking me if Italy had better pizza than the U.S., and me having to try and find a way to both be honest and not seem like too much of a dick when I told him: "no". It would be fair to say that, in Italy, your money goes a lot farther in terms of quality than in the U.S.; or, in other words, their average quality is higher. But it's not like Italians know some secret the rest of the world doesn't, and you can easily find a good, crispy, thin crust, wood fired pizza anywhere, if you look for it.
That was the real lesson for me: it's not that Europe has better food across the board than the U.S., it's that even their cheapest restaurants will be pretty high quality, whereas finding good but cheap food in the U.S. can often be quite difficult. So someone like me, who's on a spend-as-little-as-possible budget, can still enjoy pretty good food anywhere.
All the same, I would largely stop going out to eat at all from this point in the trip onward, and instead I began visiting grocery stores frequently. During the day I'd always have in my bag: a bottle of water, a loaf of bread, a block of cheese (usually gouda), almonds, and dates or dried figs. These I would munch on throughout the day, and for dinner I'd make something simple like pasta or rice with veggies and tofu. Having a kitchen would become a requirement for me to stay at a hostel, and many hostels have a "free stuff" section filled with food items people had left behind, like garlic or salt or whatever, so I often didn't need to go shopping at all.
Of course, I didn't abstain from eating out completely. Every country has some claim-to-fame food item, which I'd try once or twice while there, if it didn't mean going way out of my way. But food wasn't a primary concern of my trip, and so I tried my best to spend as little as possible on it.
Having spent a few days in Munich, recuperating and figuring out my next steps, I continued on... to Brussels!
Brussels, Belgium
The bus arrived in Brussels super late at night, and I woke up to the voice of the bus driver over the intercom: "Welcome to Brussels! Donald Trump says it is the shithole of Europe, and he has it right!" So it was a warm welcome. I only stayed in Brussels for two nights; it was more of a pit-stop on the way to Bruges than anything. My hostel was, apparently, on the site of one of Van Gogh's old studios, but that fact was played up in favor of actually making the hostel any good. But the city was nice enough, and despite the bitter cold I enjoyed myself.
{% include image.html dir="mr-worldwide" file="brussels-2018.jpg" width=556 descr="Comic murals like this can be find all over the city. Brussels, 2018" float="right" %}
Besides being the capital of the E.U., Brussels is also famous for its history of comics. Not just superhero comics, but also political, children's, humor, and historical comics too. While wandering around I visited a number of comic stores with huge selections, almost entirely in not-English (Belgium has three official languages), and there were huge comic murals all over the city. Brussels' comic history would also provide me with my favorite museum experience of the entire trip.
The majority of museums I went to in Europe were only loosely ordered. Large collection museums would organize be era, and maybe by year within the era, or perhaps by artist. Those museums are fine for wandering around, but the really good museums are those that tell a story. The Escher exhibit in Lisbon, the Picasso exhibit I went to in Barcelona, and the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam tell the story of a single person's life, and by having that focus can be really compelling for the visitor. Those with a more broad focus have more difficulty being as compelling, but the Belgian Comic Strip Center nailed it.
The museum started with a walkthrough of how comics are actually made, from initial blocking, to pencil sketches, to coloring, and finally inking. It covered materials used in past and present, and how digital tools like Photoshop and 3D modeling, which allow the entire process to be done digitally and quickly, have changed the landscape.
From there the museum opened up into different sections, some focusing on specific countries, others on a particular artist, others on a theme. Each had a series of wall texts guiding you through the section, not just by giving information on a specific piece, but giving overall information on context. There were sections on specific Belgian artists, famous comic characters, a whole section on comics in propaganda, chinese and japanese comics (not manga), and much more. There were sections on the different mediums that comics appeared, e.g. newspapers, comic books, and posters, and even a whole section on the Smurfs. Overall it was one of the most thought out, well designed museums I've ever been to, and it made the trip to Brussels worth it on its own.
After the Comic Center I didn't have much else I wanted to do. I wandered through the tourist-y area, saw the statue of the peeing kid that's apparently famous, and ended up walking a long while to visit what is, according to the internet, the best belgian fries joint in the city. It was pretty good (though the best belgian fries I'd have would turn out to be in Amsterdam), and I sat down in a little plaza to eat them. While there I caught the eye, for better or worse, of a guy coming out of a bar, and he immediately bee-lined for me. His English was not solid, but that didn't slow him down in the least.
He opened by telling me he was waiting for his taxi, and then immediately launched into a tirade against capitalism, in favor of communism. I told him I'm from the U.S. and we (mostly he) talked about consumer culture, the plight of the working man, and the like. After a few minutes his taxi showed up, he wished me a good trip, and we said goodbye. It was a fun but extremely odd interaction. "Are all Belgians so eager to espouse communism to random passerby?", I'd wonder to myself.
After wandering a while longer I decided to just catch a bus back to my hostel. A woman walked by with her two kids while I was waiting at the stop, and turned back to tell me something, though she didn't have hardly any English to work with. After some struggle we managed to land on "no bus". Damn. So I walked down to the metro station to take the train instead. While waiting for the train I overheard on the intercom: "Train delay due to worker strike". Which explained everything instantly. The Brussels public transit workers were on strike, so there was no bus, and no train, and a man (I'm betting one of the workers) was drinking in the middle of the day, waiting for a taxi, and super primed to talk about worker's rights.
While it was a funny situation, in a way, it did make my life quite a bit harder. Once I finally got back to the hostel I stayed in for the night, and the next day headed on to Bruges.