On travel writers, comedians and Stuart Maconie

I'm a voracious reader of travel books. There are basically three categories of travel writing. On the one extreme there's the learned erudite works for the discerning reader which really get to grips with the culture and politics of a country, as exemplified by the likes of Dervla Murphy, Paul Theroux or Colin Thubron. On the other extreme there are the whimsical books usually written in tongue-in-cheek style by comedians or other media personalities who embark on a specific task of peculiar proportions such as Tony Hawkes lugging a fridge around Ireland or playing the Moldovans at tennis, or Tim Moore cycling the route of the Tour de France. There's also those who lie somewhere in between, such as Bill Bryson or Michael Palin who do the semi-intellectual stuff, but at the same time you get the impression that they're not taking themselves entirely seriously.

The Independent observes this trend in a brown-nosing and somewhat snooty piece as an additon to its regular Friday book charts round-up:

"For every Pies and Prejudice, in which comedian (sic) Stuart Maconie (above) hangs out in Blackpool and Yorkshire eating fish and chips and geting in touch with his Northern soul, there's a Tony Hawks, trekking around Europe with a fridge/piano/tennis racket; for every Good Pub Guide there's a Tribe. It's a relief when a writer like Michael Palin or Bill Bryson comes along to peer into the world and elucidate the journey with wit and wisdom and no gimmicks. Which is why they're always best-sellers, and why they are national treasures".

Stuart Maconie, a decent writer, despite what's written above may have a smart-arse style which is generally humorous and quite tongue-in-cheek, but to describe him as a "comedian" is stretching it a bit. He's a rock journo by trade, now enjoying the fruits of life as a DJ and prsenter who churns out the odd book, but I suppose he should take the comedian label as a compliment. Unless the Independent writer meant it in a contemptuous sense, as in someone not to be taken seriously. If that's the case then there is a hell of a lot of "comedians" around, including this anonymous Independent journalist.

Michael Palin’s New Europe

Watching the first instalment of Michael Palin’s New Europe on BBC1 brought back memories of last summer for me. The palm-lined seafront of Split and the Roman colonnades of Diocletian’s palace, the minarets of the Sarajevo skyline and the reconstructed bridge at Mostar all conjured up images of my own Balkan adventure. The series started off promisingly with Palin perched on top of a mountain in Slovenia’s Julian Alps looking towards the horizon, symbolising the beginning of his journey into a transformed continent.
It was the usual Palin fare, the unique cocktail of travel documentary and quirky humour of the mild-mannered Englishman abroad adopting the “when in Rome” attitude by attempting to blend in with the natives and meeting all kinds of colourful characters along the way.
One of the more appealing aspects of Palin’s travels is that he’s never been afraid to try out new experiences, delve into local politics or venture off the beaten track.
In his Sahara series Palin stayed at a refugee camp inhabited by the stateless Saharawi people of the former Spanish colonies of the Western Sahara whose self-proclaimed people’s democratic republic in defiance of the Moroccan and Mauritanian authorities has never been recognised by the UN.
In Bosnia images of a bitter and bloody war are still fresh in people’s memories. Shots of Palin walking the lively streets of present day Sarajevo interspersed with film footage of civilians running for cover in those same streets amid constant gunfire and explosions during the three-year long siege of the city, “the longest siege in modern European history” just over a decade ago was highly effective. Similarly, a film of the Old Bridge in Mostar being blown up in 1993 juxtaposed with scenes of local divers jumping into the river from the rebuilt bridge, now a UNESCO World Heritage site and tourists milling around in the sunshine. The glaring contrast between then and now was quite poignant.

We in the West to our shame have effectively become immune to news pictures of conflict and civil unrest in distant African or Asian countries, a regular feature of our news bulletins for decades, whether in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Darfur, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, Iraq, Vietnam or Sri Lanka.

What was particularly disturbing about the conflict in the former Yugoslavia was that such events could occur on our doorstep, in the so-called “civilised world” at the end of the 20th century. Scenes of half-starved prisoners of war behind barbed wire, and excavations of mass graves among other horrific sights were an almost daily feature of TV news headlines throughout the early 1990s, evoking memories of another European war fought 50 years earlier. The resilience of the people of Sarajevo cannot be understated.
Palin spoke to survivors of the Bosnia, including one man leading a landmine clearance operation in the countryside surrounding Sarajevo, who had planted many of the mines himself, mines which will take an estimated 70 years to clear.

The trouble with such travel documentaries is that they barely scratch the surface. Cramming Slovenia, Bosnia, Croatia, Serbia and Albania into an hour-long programme doesn’t do justice to the experience - although the book does go imto considerably more detail. Hours of film footage must have been pared down in post production and this was surely a frustrating task for the editors.

So what purpose does all this serve? What does travel actually achieve? Palin provides his personal view in his own inimitable style:

“I try not to go out with too many prejudices or come back with too many opinions. I'm frequently approached by people who want to know how travel has changed me and what great insights I might have had on dusty roads and in blazing sunsets. Now I no longer even try to make up an answer. Any journey away from the room you're sitting in will increase the potential for coming upon the unexpected and occasionally wonderful, but that's not to equate travel with ultimate enlightenment or universal solutions, any more than breathing will ensure you become president of the US. It helps, but that's about all. I've learned that what I like about travel is that it doesn't sort everything out. Actually, it doesn't sort anything out. Where there was certainty, it sows uncertainty, where there is conviction, it sows doubt, where there is comfort, it sows heat rash. It's just that being in unfamiliar surroundings watching unfamiliar activity is something I find, on the whole, deeply refreshing.”

How very true.

A whiter shade of Palin

Prague, Czech Republic (Picture by Aiden Fitzsimons)

Proving that he’s come a long way since his days as an unscrupulous pet shop owner flogging dead parrots to unsuspecting customers, Michael Palin, the Monty Python veteran turned jolly globetrotter goes east to savour the delights of Oriental and Central Europe for his latest BBC TV series.

Back in 1989 as a young TV reviewer for the Ulster Herald I reviewed one of Palin’s earliest forays into TV travel Around the World in 80 Days in which he traversed the globe without the luxury of flight via Africa, Asia and America to get back to London within the specified time limit, but spent only a brief period of time in Europe. His latest adventure in which he roams from Estonia to Turkey and almost every country in between promises to be fascinating insight into an area which is on our doorstep, yet which many of us in the West know so little about.

Having travelled a bit in this part of the world and developed something of a fascination for the vast and varied region which once lay behind an impenetrable “iron curtain”, the TV series will naturally be of interest to me. Palin has a thought-provoking article in The Guardian about how the series came about and his perceptions were shaped by his experiences in the “New Europe”. After my own travels in the former Yugoslavia last year this extract struck a chord with me:

"The past intruded on almost every conversation we had and in every town we filmed. Not the quaint past of cobbled streets and church spires (though there was plenty of that), but the raw and shocking past of the 20th century. We in the West have fought and suffered through two world wars, but in eastern Europe the misery was prolonged and relentless. The first of our journeys, which took us down through the former Yugoslavia, was a reminder of how recently Europeans were fighting each other. As late as 1999, our boys were bombing Belgrade. In Sarajevo we talked to people in streets that were death traps only 13 years ago. The eloquent and painstaking leader of a Bosnian mine-clearance team was the same man who had planted some of the mines in the first place."

Watch this space for further coverage and commentary.

Island-hopping

I'm back in the saddle after a 2-week break in the old country with my better half, sampling the cultural, geographical, ornithological, culinary and alcoholic delights of Ireland. So now I've seen the delights of Rosslare, Wexford, Kilmore Quay, Enniscorthy (taking in the 1798 museum and Vinegar Hill - which I would strongly recommend), Bunclody and the Blackstairs Mountains, New Ross, Carrick-on-Suir (free guided tours of Ormond Castle available and a square in the town named after its most celebrated citizen Sean Kelly, the greatest cyclist never to win the Tour de France - I won't mention this year's farcial event), the Rock of Cashel and northwards to Glendalough with its round tower and stunning lake and mountain scenery, Newgrange in all its Megalitihic glory (didn't have time to visit the nearby Battle of the Boyne site, but hopefully next time) , then Omagh (thanks to Mum and Dad for putting up with us), Plumbridge, Coleraine (thanks to DrJW for the plush riverside accomodation), Portrush and a tour of the Antrim coast encompassing the Giant's Causeway, Ballycastle, Rathlin Island (where gannets, guillemots, puffins and eider ducks abound) and White Park Bay, but not, thanks to my companion's fear of heights, the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge.

The final leg of the tour took in Belfast - thanks to the Arm's ocasional guest writer Phil for his hospitality. The two-piece band playing in the John Hewitt performed an excellent version of Copperhead Road, plus as far as I can remember a few Bob Dylan numbers. And what a relief it was to have the place smoke-free! The city guided bus tour was interesting. I didn't know that Stormont during the War was covered in manure to make it invisible to the German bombers - nowadays you'll just find it inside the building coming from the mouths of the assembly members.

So now it's back to the grindstone. The Pembroke to Rosslare ferry was even a pleasant experience.

A different perspective on Prague

The Dreaming Arm is pleased to announce its third ever guest writer. Phil lives in Belfast and coincidentally (or not as the case may be) was also in Prague at the same time as the present author. Phil takes a more aesthetic look at the city, reflecting on an experience he's unlikely to forget (despite the absinthe).

So czech it out...
CW

An enchanting song in one of the Irish operas is entitled "I dreamed I dwelled in marble halls." In my case, however, during four days in Prague, I felt that I came close to living out that dream. Some cities in the world so surpass all the normal boundaries of aesthetic beauty that they require some description. Prague is one such city. This was my second visit, and I am determined to return again. This second visit, made with Ciaran, John, and Aiden, has reinforced my belief that even though the Austro-Hungarian empire may not have been the most powerful that the world has ever seen, it certainly possessed the finest cities in Europe, beating even the splendours of Paris, Berlin, and Madrid. Prague, is the jewel in the crown of the old Austro-Hungarian empire, a firmly held opinion of mine that has not been dented by my latest visit.

It was interesting to return after an interval of some years to see whether time has wrought any changes to the city. I am happy to aver that if there have been any changes, they are for the better, with Prague, as the capital of the Czech Republic the very epitome of a thriving, cosmopolitan, wealthy central European city, something which is reflected in the vast number of quality cars, and the clothing fashions sported by the local population. Some may say that the city has become over touristised - I do not agree - Prague is an experience that should be shared with the world. Although we saw old Soviet style cardboard box apartments on the outskirts of the city centre from our vantage point of the Observatory (offering great views over the city), it is clear that Soviet domination never managed to destroy the essential soul of Prague, or that the sophisticated and intelligent Czechs never forgot how to manage a wealthy civic society.

It is no exaggeration to say that most of our four days (or three and a half days, to be pedantic) were taken up simply wandering around the Old Town Square and the Old Town gawping in wonder at the sheer magnificence of the architecture, which ranged from Gothic Cathedrals to the baroque castle at the epicentre of the Old Town. Owing to the visit of President Bush on the 4th and 5th of this month, the castle and the nearby art gallery were, somewhat disappointingly, closed to the public. Still, it provides us with a good excuse to return again, and, it could be that the visit of George Bush will be of benefit to the Czech Republic if the US decides to place one of the new missile defence warning systems in that country. I believe firmly that never again should the Czechs (or Slovaks, Poles, Hungarians, Ukranians and Bulgarians, for that matter) be at the mercy of the much greater military power and possible imperialist aspirations of a belligerent Russia, no matter how much Vladimir Putin may protest about the creation of a missile defence shield in Europe. One sad moment for me came when I saw the statue of Edvard Benes, last democratically elected President of pre-Soviet Czechoslovakia, who after seeing his country overrun by the NAZIs, was to die a lonely figure in exile due to the totalitarian designs that Stalin and the communists had on Czechoslovakia in the aftermath of World War II. It should perhaps serve as a lesson against being complacent about the democratic freedoms enjoyed by ourselves in the West and now happily shared by the Czechs themselves.



Aiden, a photo junkie, literally found new wonders around each corner to feed his addiction, some of which have hopefully found their way onto the blog by now. It is easy to see the secret of Czech success in Prague - top quality education in celestial surroundings, and cultural experiences readily available to all. One cannot walk 100 feet during the day in the city centre without someone planting a flyer in your hand advertising some classical concert in the majestic opera houses or cathedrals in the city. One thing which differentiates the Czechs from the more folksy Poles, however, is their attitude to religion, which borders on the sceptical - evidenced by the fact that it is very difficult to actually gain access to the interiorof a church or cathedral in Prague - a great pity.



Okay, so we didn't reside in a baroque marble palace during our visit there, but our hostel did provide a very good substitute - comfortable (if basic) rooms and a first rate continental breakfast for the equivalent of around £10 per night. I had stayed there on my first trip to Prague three years ago. It also had the merit of being within ten minutes walking distance from the Old Town Square. It also contained two good bars, a pizza/pasta restaurant, and a bowling alley. There is no need to frequent five star hotels or expensive restaurants to find delicious Czech food - just have a look at the photo of the meal which we bought in a Prague pub just off the city centre at a very reasonable price.
Czech service is efficient and scrupulously polite.

To those reading this blog who have not yet visited Prague, I would ask "what are you waiting for!?" The next time I return, I would like to see more of the rest of the Czech Republic as well.

Phil

Pictures by Aiden Fitzsimons

Scandal in Bohemia

Wenceslas Square

Back in the '80s Lloyd Cole (no relation to Nat King as far as I know, but possibly related to comedian Jimmy Carr?) allegedly spent a lost weekend in Amsterdam. This was before the advent of cheap "no frills" airlines and the fall of the Iron Curtain leading to the return of democracy and freedom across Central and Eastern Europe. Just over a week ago I had something of an extended lost weekend in Prague with a group of reprobates known only as John, Aiden and Phil. The "sickest joke" was not the "price of the medicine" as Mr Cole succinctly put it, but the strength of the Absinthe. To the uninitiated this is a vile green liquid with a 70% alcohol content which according to anecdotal evidence causes you to see hallicinations of green monsters - and I'm not talking about Fianna Fail's coalition partners in government here.



We didn't get to visit the famous Prague Castle as it was closed due to the visit of a certain GW Bush. He couldn't have picked a worse time to visit - he should have known were coming. There's a pub in one of the narrow winding streets of the old town whose walls are strewn with graffiti scrawled by legions of stag parties and backpackers. The proprieters actually encourage this, but you have to pay to write on the walls. At every table in this establishment there are complementary giant pretzels hanging from stands. Somehow I don't think this place was on Mr President's itinerary.

Pictures by Aiden Fitzsimons