So anybody want to know how my weekend went?
Tough. Gonna tell you anyway.
Time had come to leave the country. Unfortunately, I have to come back at some point. No fair. Been trying to grummage up some interest from various itinerant alcoholics of my aquaintance for some time, as it was only one came out to play. Good job really as it turned out, a weekend full of cockup, planning on one's feet and such ensued. What is it about weekends off that they're twice as stressful as weekends on?
Missed the flight on Friday. That's the biggie and the lesson learned. Next time, damn the expense and get a travelodge by the airport. Crap traffic on the long long drive down the A16 and A12 cost me the flight. Fuming at Stansted, but didn't rip the ears off Sleasyjet's drone, as tempting as it was; instead layed out more wonga to move the flights to the following day, chopped the break in half and headed to London for the evening. Got as far as Grenwich, just short of the Wonderbra (Millenium Dome... looks fantastic from the outside but never anything worth looking at inside) and got booked into an overpriced mass produced plastic packed hotel room; didn't have the energy to hit the centre of the smoke, so we wandered off for pizza and pictures; the Borat movie. Wasn't at all sure about wanting to see this one, but enough people are raving for me to take an interest, so went, watched and laughed my arse off. So very much is oh so very wrong. "Chocolate face! No makeup!" "my moustache still smells of your testes". Very very wrong, very very good. And enough of that already. Back to the hotel for overpriced beer and and early dart up the M11.
Up at Sparrow's fart on Saturday, loaded up the funbuggy and off, unfortunately stopping only to pay my bill. Onto the big orange bird and turned up an hour and a bit later in glorious Slovenia. Where it's dark and pissing it down with rain, somewhat different to my last trip there. Looks like they're starting to take it seriously... new enclosed airstairs on the ramp, shuttle busses to take you to the terminal, and in fact a totally new arrivals hall. Typical of the place, asked at the info desk for shuttle busses into town and she gestured me to exactly the right place, tearing off an enormous map of Lubljana from a pre printed pad of them, casually but effectively circling the dropoff point with a biro.
Got to our rather basic balkans hotel exactly five minutes after a thirty strong party of Italian hockey players had turned up. Oh dear. You know what Italians are like. And I never was one for crowds, let alone loud ones full of kids. Never mind, after a steak dinner where I shocked the waitress by ordering beer in the proper Slovene (oh come on, not like that one's difficult), into town for more beer in the old town. I'd been licking my lips waiting for my first glass of Laschko Pivo since before I left Stansted and now it was really kicking in. Never got as far as my destination. Skies opened, tiddled down with rain, aborted the rush for the old town, made a circuit and headed back to the hotel. Pausing only to take spectacular shots of the christmas dec's on my phonecamera 'coz it's the standing water that gives such magical quality of light.
Was on the final corner before the hotel, when I happened to glance down towards a side street and spotted a friendly and familiar green and white illuminated sign, saying "Laschko" with a little antelope on it, and stayed until we got locked in. Yay! There's something you don't see in the UK nowadays, drinking til sillyoclock isn't half as much fun without the illegality.
Not really enough time to play with, but enjoyed a very nice ramble aroud Ljubljana the following morning; the fountains all appear to be boarded up for the season. The loony Slovenes, bless 'em have wrapped them all up in shiney paper with big silver bows, seasonal style. Bless 'em! Graffiti all over the place unfortunately, even on the nicer buildings... some disaffected youth there methinks. Quite a lot referring to the percieved lack of their country; maybe europe but moreso people like us going over there and eating all the pies. I can see where they're coming from. But not enough to discourage me from going out there and filling up on alpine air. Ain't I a hypocrite. Worryingly, the occaisional swastika and A.C.A.B are on the walls of Lub', I presume the latter has a racial/anarchic connection, although the trad' British "all coppers are b*stards" I would be suprised to see migrated here. Stopped for a bevvy in my fav' Lub' bar, The Katacombs, then made a move to the craft market where I scared myself. Found a most groovy reproduction weaponary stall; was very taken with the full face helmet, horse for the use of that would have looked marvellous on my lounge wall. Not so taken with the fact that it would have cost a fortune to put in the baggage hold; that I shouldn't spend a load of wad on myself when I haven't even bought presents for other folks yet. The fact that it might give Customs the willies entering the UK just added to the reasons to buy it :o). Not so much though the reproduction Roman gladius they had, that would have been too much!
Time had come to leave the country. Unfortunately, I have to come back at some point. No fair. Been trying to grummage up some interest from various itinerant alcoholics of my aquaintance for some time, as it was only one came out to play. Good job really as it turned out, a weekend full of cockup, planning on one's feet and such ensued. What is it about weekends off that they're twice as stressful as weekends on?
Missed the flight on Friday. That's the biggie and the lesson learned. Next time, damn the expense and get a travelodge by the airport. Crap traffic on the long long drive down the A16 and A12 cost me the flight. Fuming at Stansted, but didn't rip the ears off Sleasyjet's drone, as tempting as it was; instead layed out more wonga to move the flights to the following day, chopped the break in half and headed to London for the evening. Got as far as Grenwich, just short of the Wonderbra (Millenium Dome... looks fantastic from the outside but never anything worth looking at inside) and got booked into an overpriced mass produced plastic packed hotel room; didn't have the energy to hit the centre of the smoke, so we wandered off for pizza and pictures; the Borat movie. Wasn't at all sure about wanting to see this one, but enough people are raving for me to take an interest, so went, watched and laughed my arse off. So very much is oh so very wrong. "Chocolate face! No makeup!" "my moustache still smells of your testes". Very very wrong, very very good. And enough of that already. Back to the hotel for overpriced beer and and early dart up the M11.
Up at Sparrow's fart on Saturday, loaded up the funbuggy and off, unfortunately stopping only to pay my bill. Onto the big orange bird and turned up an hour and a bit later in glorious Slovenia. Where it's dark and pissing it down with rain, somewhat different to my last trip there. Looks like they're starting to take it seriously... new enclosed airstairs on the ramp, shuttle busses to take you to the terminal, and in fact a totally new arrivals hall. Typical of the place, asked at the info desk for shuttle busses into town and she gestured me to exactly the right place, tearing off an enormous map of Lubljana from a pre printed pad of them, casually but effectively circling the dropoff point with a biro.
Got to our rather basic balkans hotel exactly five minutes after a thirty strong party of Italian hockey players had turned up. Oh dear. You know what Italians are like. And I never was one for crowds, let alone loud ones full of kids. Never mind, after a steak dinner where I shocked the waitress by ordering beer in the proper Slovene (oh come on, not like that one's difficult), into town for more beer in the old town. I'd been licking my lips waiting for my first glass of Laschko Pivo since before I left Stansted and now it was really kicking in. Never got as far as my destination. Skies opened, tiddled down with rain, aborted the rush for the old town, made a circuit and headed back to the hotel. Pausing only to take spectacular shots of the christmas dec's on my phonecamera 'coz it's the standing water that gives such magical quality of light.
Was on the final corner before the hotel, when I happened to glance down towards a side street and spotted a friendly and familiar green and white illuminated sign, saying "Laschko" with a little antelope on it, and stayed until we got locked in. Yay! There's something you don't see in the UK nowadays, drinking til sillyoclock isn't half as much fun without the illegality.
Not really enough time to play with, but enjoyed a very nice ramble aroud Ljubljana the following morning; the fountains all appear to be boarded up for the season. The loony Slovenes, bless 'em have wrapped them all up in shiney paper with big silver bows, seasonal style. Bless 'em! Graffiti all over the place unfortunately, even on the nicer buildings... some disaffected youth there methinks. Quite a lot referring to the percieved lack of their country; maybe europe but moreso people like us going over there and eating all the pies. I can see where they're coming from. But not enough to discourage me from going out there and filling up on alpine air. Ain't I a hypocrite. Worryingly, the occaisional swastika and A.C.A.B are on the walls of Lub', I presume the latter has a racial/anarchic connection, although the trad' British "all coppers are b*stards" I would be suprised to see migrated here. Stopped for a bevvy in my fav' Lub' bar, The Katacombs, then made a move to the craft market where I scared myself. Found a most groovy reproduction weaponary stall; was very taken with the full face helmet, horse for the use of that would have looked marvellous on my lounge wall. Not so taken with the fact that it would have cost a fortune to put in the baggage hold; that I shouldn't spend a load of wad on myself when I haven't even bought presents for other folks yet. The fact that it might give Customs the willies entering the UK just added to the reasons to buy it :o). Not so much though the reproduction Roman gladius they had, that would have been too much!
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 9:16 pm
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