StuttgartGreeceIstanbulBasel

I had a conference in Greece in July which I managed to extend into a grand pan-European tour.

Arrived in Stuttgart and found bearings. Capital of State of Baden-Wurtemburg, home to Porsche, Bosch, DaimlerChrysler and various other hi-tech companies, it is one of the most prosperous cities in Germany and has been on the forefront of avant-garde architecture for much of the 20c.

Checked out Kunstmuseum Stuttgart, which was showing an exhibition "Illuminated Buildings – Architecture by Night",

then the "Kunst ist leben" exhibition at Kunsthalle & then a Monet exhibition and the permanent collection Staatsgalerie Stuttgart. The latter is an architecture-textbook staple, designed by James Stirling, an excellent example of early "postmodernism".

The Monet exhibition was OK, though I get a bit bored by Impressionism (the little old ladies seem to love trooping along to these exhibitions everywhere from Munich to Melbourne, London to LA), but the main collection was super: highlights were Oskar Schlemmer paintings and costumes (similar to those in Modernism exhib at V&A), Giacometti, Kirchner and Picasso. Here I am sneaking hither and thither (i wasn't meant to be taking photos... teehee...)

Met up with Antje for dinner at a biergarten.
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Next day, went to the recently re-opened Mercedes Museum, now housed in a fantastic new building designed by UN Studio in Amsterdam.

Checked out all kinds of early models, racing cars, landspeed record-holders,

and the popemobile!

Met up with Antje & some of her friends at a pub to watch the Argentina vs Germany World cup match. That was cool fun - especially as Germany won. The remainder of the evening would probably have been more subdued had they not (which may, in retrospect, for some of our party, been a good thing).

I assimilated (i could pass for a Deutschlander, language aside - ich sprechen keine Doitch)

Met up with Feli and Flo for dinner,

and even more Hoffman-research-group alumni after dinner (they are pretty much all working for the car industry, either directly or indirectly - it's big business there)

Postgame festivities were pretty vigorous. Streets were cordoned off in the centre of town to accomodate the revellers. About 8 hours later, Bence got a talking to from the Polizei. Enough said. The remaining time in Stuttgart was more subdued - enjoying the nice weather, swimming and a BBQ. It was great catching up with Antje and the others & getting a bit of a feel for Stuttgart which is a fantastic city.
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Headed to Greece. Landed in Thessaloniki;

got bus to Alexandroupolis,

and settled in for the 16th European Conference on Fracture. Due to my general leave-it-to-the-last-minute-ness, my hotel was a bit of a hike out of town in a tiny village called Icantrememberopoulis near the town of Maronia. The coastline there was quite nice.

Conference talk went well. Dinner was fun - sat with a variety of Belgians, French Canadians, Scandinavians, some of whom I'd met at the 15th European conf on Fracture in Stockholm in 2004.

Here's Scott, who works for NASA, and Brent, who's at my alma mater UWA, and who later reneged on his promise to call me in Istanbul where he was travelling after the conference also - thanks a lot, mate. Maybe he didn't like the way I leant up against him in the photo.

Here're the cool kids from my table.

After the final session, i donned less formal attire and headed for the beach.

This is the island of Samothraki, from where the famous statue The Winged Victory (or Nike) of Samothrace at the Louvre (it's a headless, armless marble thing with wings, the third most famous piece at the Louvre after ML and VdM) derived.

Headed into town with my co-author, Ivar, and his wife, Cathy. I hadn't seen them since 2004, when I'd visited Colorado and they'd most kindly looked after me and shown me the Rockies, so it was great to catch up. Especially over a plate of grilled, cured octopus. Mmmm, tentacley.

After dinner and goodbyes, i began (what I didn't realise at the time would be) my arduous journey that would eventually culminate in successfully boarding the train to Istanbul. In an appropriately exciting and romantic set-up, the train departs nightly at 1am from a tiny station about a kilometre down the track from the main Alexandroupoli station. The catch is: they don't sell tickets from the small station, only the main one. The other catch is: they don't tell you that at the main station, they just point down the track to the small one.

Even once i was on the train, the fun wasn't over: they take your ticket and passport for a couple of hours then at about 4, at the border, everyone without a visa is hauled out and forced to dance naked for the gratification of the border guards, who drink reiki from the bottle and sing loud, apparently bawdy (if the actions are anything to go by), folksongs whilst shooting into the air. I made the last bit up. But they do make you go into the little borderhouse and queue up to get a visa. There are a strict set of criteria to be fulfilled: 1. you have some money. 2. you give it to them. Welcome to Turkey! I'd stayed up for this, so was the least bedraggled-looking in the visa queue, though paid for it in added bedraggle-factor when we pulled into Istanbul Central 3.5 hours later.
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It was all worth it once I got there and stood on the side of the Bosphorus:

And after one of these babies,

i felt like a new man. Had a stroll through the Topkapi Gardens (presumably named after Topkapi Pide and Kebab, Enmore Road, Enmore - voted number 1 kebab in Sydney by me three years running).

The park was full of couples enjoying the romantic surrounds - literally dozens of them. I noted that, in every case, the keen guy (representative of secular Turkey and its vulnerability to decadent Western values...or lack thereof) looked like he was trying to talk the reluctant girl (representative of traditional Turkey and its adherence to Muslim doctrine and values) into a bit of eh-wink-wink-nudge-nudge-eh, but they didn't seem to be very successful (what this represents in terms of Turkish culture or Eurasian geopolitics I couldn't say).

This is probably an appropriate juncture to mention that there's an inlet in Istanbul called The Golden Horn - don't believe me? look at the centre panel of this map. Pretty funny, eh?

Went to Topkapi palace (they must love that kebab shop too!):

then to the Archaeology Museum

then to Hagia Sofia

then to the Blue Mosque

What a remarkable day! But the fun wasn't over yet. What started out as a quick stroll to grab some pide for dinner turned into an epic mission across Istanbul, involving two dubious (very, very dubious) Cypriots, sheeps brains, Turkish transsexuals, a number of glasses of reiki, Ukrainian hookers and a painfully inopportune dearth of map, and ending in me having to resort to the "keep-walking-downhill-and-hope-you-get-to-the-water-and-can-work-out-where-the-bloody-hell-you-are" strategy. On the plus side, Istanbul is very beautiful (well, parts of it) at night as well as in the day.

Getting back to the hostel, there was someone in my bed. Clearly not a girl, or i wouldn't be complaining. The manager was very helpful, sorting me a bed in the nightmanager room then sorting me a few beers. So a silver lining on that cloud too.

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Being in the nightmanager's room, i was not disturbed in my slumber, so i didn't wake til midday. While this meant I missed breakfast, I didn't feel I had grounds for lodging a complaint, and feeling well-rejuvenated set out for some victuals.

Hiked across Galata bridge,

visited Istanbul Modern

then walked along the foreshore towards the great big Bosphorus bridge.

I had a grand plan to walk across it to Asia, but having scaled the hill to the edge of the bridge,

i determined that the facilities for pedestrians were nonexistent. Oh well, Europe only for this trip (or so I thought...)

Chilled in the Dolmabahce Palace gardens then wandered back through the real city centre (as opposed to the tourist centre in Saltanahmet), Taksim, and went for a few quiet ones in a nice little lane off Istaklal.
It's an amazingly bustling city - as big and busy a central shopping district as London. Population estimates for Istanbul vary between 11 and 20+ million; I'd be inclined to say it's less than 15m but big in any case. I preferred the Taksim/Istaklal area to Sultanahmet as it was less touristy and less in-your-face, and a bit more real.

Headed back, watched Germany beat Portugal, then was cajoled into going out clubbing with the hostel manager and some of his mates, and two hapless 19yo Belgian girls who'd only just arrived and who were led to believe that their securing hostel beds for the night was contingent on their joining us, and being subsequently subject to vigorous attentions from all quarters - not mine though - i'm a gentleman.
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Missed brekky again. Had a turkish coffee at a tea garden, next to a cemetery - these are gravestones (i believe).

Strolled through Grand Bazaar,

past Suleyman mosque, to one of the less glamorous areas of the town,

which was interesting if unsettling. Navigating to the waterfront and across Galata bridge, headed to Dolmabahce palace, moseyed round gardens and went on palace tour. This is where the Sultan lived during the last 100 years of the Ottoman empire (a period of relative decadence and Western emulation), later Ataturk lived there also.

Strolled back through city to hostel,

had a kebab, watched Italy win the World Cup, then said my farewells to the hostel staff who were cool (I'll give the hostel a plug here: If you're staying in Istanbul, stay there)

I was a little bit complacent about getting to the airport. To my credit, i left plenty of time and booked the taxi beforehand and was all organised. To my detriment, I didn't actually check which of the two airports in Istanbul my flight departed from. I picked the big one on the European side: wrong answer.

On going through security, which one does on entering the front doors, I checked the Departures screen. No Easyjet Flight EJ616 to Basel. No Easyjet flights whatsoever. No Easyjet counter. Blood draining from head. Ran to Information Counter: given instructions to Istanbul Sabiha Gocken International Airport, a mere 70 kilometres (i.e. one 100 Turkish lira taxi fare) away. Ran to taxi rank, grabbed cab. Doesn't take credit card. Ran inside (through security again). Found cash machine. Australian debit card not accepted. UK debit card not accepted. Try to remember UK credit card PIN. Accepted. Grab cash. Run. Get in taxi. Time: 3:01am. Check-in closes: 3:55am. Ask driver "Can we make it?". He stares ahead, thinks for a second, nods determinedly. Pedal to the metal. 3:03 stop at petrol station. Is this really necessary? Look over at gauge: E. Yes - necessary. Right - we're off. Oh my god - he drove so f----g fast. We got there at 3:35, and that was after a several minute delay at a tollgate on one of the freeways. He drove at 165 kph through the middle of Istanbul. Ah well, who am i to question his tactics? Thanks to them, i made the flight.

Here i am with the nice couple from Tamworth I met in the checkin queue: they too had gone to the wrong airport and had a taxi cannonball run to make the flight. My taxi was faster than theirs.

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It was wonderful getting into Basel, despite my being pretty screwed from lack of sleep and the latenight airport antics. A big constrast to Turkey, one of the most notable aspects being the relative silence after the constant bustle of Istanbul streets. The Rhine was gorgeous:

Found my hostel, discovered a lot of the museums are closed on a Monday but, not too disheartened, set out to explore to the town, and pose like an idiot by the river.

Checked out the Cathedral

had some Swiss cheese (obligatory naff food joke photo, following up frankfurter in Frankfurt, hamburger in Hamburg, damn - forgot to eat a turkey in Istanbul...)

went to museum of the history of Basel (fascinating progression from mediaeval market town, ideally situated on Rhine and on trade routes between southern Germany, France, Italy and the lowlands, to global banking capital, home of the Bank of International Settlements: the central bankers' central bank)

checked out public art of Richard Serra and Jean Tinguely,

then went to Fondation Beyeler at Riehen. The building was designed by Renzo Piano and sits in a delightful garden, featuring a piece by Mark Di Suvero, the creator of Ik-ook in the NGA sculpture garden in Canberra.

Saw Matisse exhibition - curiously ended up liking Matisse less than before the exhibition (i think the lack of sleep had put me in a less receptive and more crotchetty mood - either that or Matisse was a jumped-up pompous lech whose work showed little or no creativity or progression for the entire period between his very early Fauve work and his cutouts - that's not my professional opinion though). The permanent collection there is brimming with Picasso, Mondrian, Giacometti, Impressionists, Klee etc., but seemed a little bit sterile - kind of ticking all the boxes of late 19c/early 20c "great art" without any real story. That said, it was still very good, especially the Klee, and probably not deserving of my tiredness-induced churlish rants.

Caught a bus over the German border, through the town of Weil am Rhein to admire the architecture of the Vitra Museum

There is a cool sculpture nearby: "Balancing Tools" by Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen

Decided to enjoy the beautiful weather by walking back rather than catching the bus.
I was pretty excited to have walked across a national border - not something does often growing up in Oz, unless you really like walking, and have some large flotation-device shoes.

Took a detour to the north of the city, towards the French border, and strolled along the Rhine

There were lots of people out and about, enjoying the water and sunshine, so i decided to join them with a few quiet ones and a quick dip.

The current is pretty strong so I had to be careful. The swiss solution is to walk along the river a bit, put your shoes and dry clothes in a bag which is then sealed and inflated to make a big floaty which they hold onto as they drift back to their start point. It looks pretty fun.

Kicked back by the river, reading until the sun set,

then called it a night.
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I gorged myself at breakfast: 2 bowls of cereal, 6 cheese and sausage open sandwiches, 4 cups of coffee, 7 glasses of OJ. There was a big morning ahead of me, visiting a bunch of the museums that were closed yesterday, and i needed to be fully fuelled.

Waddled to the Kunstmuseum. Great general collection, particular features being Hodler, Bocklin, Klee,

rushed to Museum fur gegenwarte kunst

then to Tinguely museum. I was previously only slightly familiar with Jean Tinguely, a sculptor famous for large, elaborate, dynamic pieces which despite their machine-like qualities, tend to be fairly unfunctional, and capture remarkable human attributes.

This piece is so big that one can walk/climb over it, a spectacular experience when it is in operation, whirring, spinning, dinging, clanking all around you.

Sated, i ran back to hostel, only to discover that the reception was closed for the afternoon (with my drivers license in it) - oh crap. Managed to sweettalk one of the cooks into letting me in, and was on my way. Run up hill, tram to Hbf, bus to flughafen, then plane. Easy right? The run was the hardest bit.


Made it and just for one last bit of freakiness, bumped into one of my research-group-mates, Rafael, in the departure lounge.

For a trip of 12 days, of which 4 were weekend and 5 I could claim I'd been working (and I could write off another 2 for travel), i think i covered a fair bit of ground. 4 countries, 16 museums, 26 kebabs.