Turks 1; Vienna Mayors, Nil

Vienna, a city of enormous beauty, efficient transport, delightful tucker (provided you’re taking statins for the cholesterol), of art, history, music and architecture to stun and amaze you.

And yet, we see on the other hand a history of the rise and fall of empire, deep intolerance and religious conflict.

The Empress Elisabeth took a shine to the Greeks, but maintained a traditional fear and loathing of the Turks – as I’m sure Atomou and Astyages are well aware.  OK, Waz et al too.

Well, let’s face it she and her old man Franz Joseph owned Greece for starters and there are monuments galore to the princes and other aristo-dudes who beat the Turks off in numerous sieges.  Interestingly, Siege I was a classic flop – oops started a bit too close to winter – and the climate beat the invader (come on classicists – Napoleon anyone, anyone ? Hitler, anyone, anyone ?  But Siege II saw a lot of support from neighbours who objected to the threat of the veil (veiled threat joke mercifully over early in the piece).  The mayor died in the conflict and scored a statue.  Fair enough – second prize to being left alive.  First prize was the Belvedere Palace (now the home of the major Klimts), but it went to a family member (call for a swab, Hung).

A Cool 2 million Eurose for a Temple Reno

So Elisabeth built a palazzo at Corfu (or perhaps the Greek equivalent of a palazzo), learnt the lingo and threw up a bit of a monument to our mate.  I hope you appreciate the dosh the Viennese are spending on giving it a facelift, chaps.  So – top marks for religious tolerance.

A Disturbing Mix of Pigs, Oppression and Religion

But I witnessed a rather nasty piece of contemporary inter-species conflict – clearly sanctioned by the Catholic church – or moreover the parish of St Stephens.  There was a huge protest about the exploitation of a species quite close to the hearts of the patrons of an eponymous watering hole in the Inner West of cyberspace.

Now, I know that it’s tempting to see this as a bit of digital mischief, but the truth is far more interesting – and a lot truer than digital mischief.

Your humble correspondent is clearly showing his displeasure in the forecourt of St Stephens here in the fair city of Vienna.

This was shortly before (I think the Polizei record says something about) an international incident and the simultaneous destruction of a van and a T-shirt.

Anyway, our correspondent is due out on bail soon and Merv’s brother Terry has added an international string to his legal defence bow – effectively doubling his criminal law expertise from only defending sheep duffers.

Rest and Be Thankful Pub Wheddon Cross

I promised myself that in the interests of not being a total prat (secondary aspect: offending Jules unnecessarily – granted, sometimes it is necessary), I would not bag out the old dart.

Do you, dear reader know how  hard that restraint is ?  Well, let me say at the outset that our friends the Brits and Irish are doing a good job getting their act together.  Having said that,from the NSW perspective, the public utilities bar is not very high above terra firma.

But there’s still a fair modicum of dysfunctional plumbing in the accommodation (the places I can afford) – masquerading as “quaint”.  More surprising is the total absence of soap in the rooms.

I DO want to say how hospitable the natives have been towards we from the colons of the earth.  Sorry, typo.  The colonies.

And the internet is struggling to find its way through British Telecom, Orange, O2 and Vodaphone networks.  How does a casual rate of $20 a day with infuriatingly slow speed sound ?  So the slow speed means more time online – which kills the battery on this thing.  Hard to stay in touch.  Two villages in which I stayed had no mobile coverage and hence no wirelss intnernet either.

Forester's Arms, Dunster

But they are beautiful to behold. Last night I had dinner in a time warp pub called the “Rest and Be Thankful” at Wheddon Cross in the middle of the Exmoor National Park.  And stayed at the Forester’s Arms in Dunster. After four or so pints of Guinness, the lack of soap in the room didn’t seem to matter all that much, but the increasing attrctiveness of the publican (who was drinking two for each of mine – that’s right six pints when I lost count) was alarming and so I retired to a night of many small trips to the celebrate the effectiveness of my kidneys.

So  what about the shirthouse experience ?

DSM PopShop

Well, the first mate is a fashionista and insisted that I wander down the Dover Street when through London I passed (near Green Square).  This is the stamping ground of Comme De Garcon, Anne Demuellemeister and others she adores.  I was instructed to have a look and see what stirred the soul enogh to lay waste to the credit card.  I found a truly fantastic T-shirt for $500, and a workable business shirt – also for $500.  I have to stress that they really were superb with luxurious fabrics and innnovative and interesting designs.  And how pissed off was I that they didn’t have XL sizes let alone XXL.

I was so miffed that I was relieved to get out of there with a tie  that cost the equivalent of thirty pints of Guinness.