Whitsun 2009 - This and That

The old town of Salzburg is known for its shop signs not only on the famous Getreidegasse but on the side streets leading off the Domplatz and Residenzplatz. Here are a few of them plus some randoms thoughts about the past few days.

• It’s rather strange that in Italy, where so many rules are ever so gently skirted, the non-smoking policies are strictly observed in bars and restaurants, while in Austria smoking is allowed everywhere. I had forgotten that there are no smoking restrictions in most places in Austria. And boy do those Austrians love to smoke - the air at the Cafe Bazar on a rainy Friday afternoon was a delicate shade of nicotine gray. The other thing that I’ve noticed in Austria is the number of drunks - particularly near the train stations - you see on the streets. A drunk is something you very rarely see in Italy unless its a young tourist freed from the restrictions of home - generally Italians don’t drink to get drunk but as an enjoyment.

• After 30 odd years - and I do mean odd - I guess Laurent and I have habits that we don’t even think about anymore. On Saturday afternoon we were having lunch at Nordsee - a fast food fish restaurant chain - and a young lad at the next table was watching us with some bemusement. I wasn’t finishing my vegetables and Laurent was absent-mindedly spearing roast potatoes from my plate as we talked. I guess every old couple has these little quirks..

• I was in Salzburg BTSOM (Before the Sound of Music) - my first visit was in August of 1969 when most people were coming for the Festival or to visit the house were little Wolfgang sprang into the world presenting it with a symphony he had written during delivery. Two years later the town had been taken over by blue-haired ladies of both sexes, some dragging long-suffering spouses along, on their pilgrimage to see the sacred spot where Christopher Plummer had kissed Julie Andrews, the place where they were married and the Von Trapp family schloss. Now almost 40 years later it is still a big industry in town - if it doesn’t have Mozart’s picture on it, guaranteed it will have Julie Andrews skipping over hills that are alive! Even the world famous Salzburg Marionette Theatre does a wooden puppet production - though a few cynics ask how that is any different from the film?

• People can be deceiving - take the audience at the Festival. They appear to be a conservative, even slightly dour, group of upper middle class people in the 60-65 range. That is not to say there aren’t young people in the audience its just that this sort of Festival and its rather pricy tickets do attract a certain demographic. The dress is conservative and there is often a whiff of mothballs as evening dresses and shawls are pulled out of armoires for the annual airing. When not sporting tuxedoes Gentlemen tend to wear suits, even to the morning concerts, and many Austrian men wear their formal trachten and the ladies are garbed in elaborate dirndls which can be stunningly beautiful but are still very traditional. When you reach your seat it is still considered good manners to greet the people on either side of you with a good morning or evening and even to say auf wiedersen on leaving - though the strolling counter clockwise in the reception room I recall from my first visit has given way to the general bustle of any theatre lobby.
  
  As I said very traditional and conservative - until it comes time to pay tribute to the performers. At that point decorum is thrown of the Untersberg - cheers ring out, feet are stamped rhythmically and the applauding and bravoing can go on for a good 10 or 15 minutes. This is an audience that knows its music and what it likes - and when they like a performer they are not shy about letting them know. One of the joys of this Festival is seeing the smiles of the musicians as they are called out for the fifth or sixth time. There must be a great feeling of satisfaction to feel that much appreciation and love sent in your direction.

• Its been a long time since I have stayed in a hotel like the Bristol - probably the last time was over 25 years ago at the old Plaza Hotel in New York. The Bristol is still family owned and operated and nothing, and I do mean nothing, is too good for its guests. Frau Doctor Hubner, the charming owner, and her son seem to be on duty 24 hours - though I’m sure they do get some rest. In conversation with the Frau Doctor she mentioned that the first thing she looked for in an employee was a love of people, everything else could be taught. They do not have a large staff but a very dedicated and exceptional one and there isn’t one of them that doesn’t live up to her requirement. Take Gunter, the young bar man. Tall, slender, boyish, a bit gangly, he has a smile that lights up the room and an open desire to make sure his guests are happy - and boy can he mix a martini.

01 guigno - Santi Marcellino e Pietro

Parlo di Piu e del Meno

• According to Blue the in-flight magazine for Aegean Airlines 2008 has been declared the year of the Feta by the Greek Government! Greek cheese manufactures have been up in arms over the imitation feta coming out of Denmark, Holland and Germany the past few years. It’s a billion dollar industry worldwide so the financial stakes are high and Greek producers are worried about cheap imitations that pass themselves off as the real thing. Feta marketing is going into full swing in Greece and throughout Europe. The new EU safeguards on Feta labelling – wouldn’t you have loved to hear that resolution, no doubt defining percentage of water, salt and curd content, read onto the order paper – guarantee that within Europe only Greek Feta can bear the proud name. Look for the πραγματική ελληνική φέτα on the label.

Parsi took us for lunch at a wonderful place called Cinnamon - traditional Greek with a twist. As you can see we dug in.

• Yes we have recycling here in Rome and many of us collect our plastic, paper and other recyclables to put in the handy bins on the streets. The problem appears to be that the city forgets to collect them.

• I now feel that I have finally arrived in Rome. I have become a regular customer at a barber shop at the bottom of Via Nazionale. I first went there because it was close to the language school and open. There are two barbers – Walter, an older bespectacled gentleman with a trim goatee and an air of ownership, Mimo, a younger more casual gentleman with a permanent tan and an artful comb over – and Luisa, an extremely attractive full-figured lady, who does the manicures, scalp massages and general reception and clean-up.
  
  I was made to feel welcome, despite a struggle with language, from the first time I walked in off the street. Mimo is my barber - Walter only deals with former Prime Minister Prodi, President Napolitano and the older long-time clients. But that’s fine because Mimo does an exceptional job with my fastly thinning hair. Luisa makes sure the nails are trimmed and glossy and gives the most relaxing scalp message immaginable. All the little formalities are observed – we shake hands on arrival and departures, health of my colleague (Laurent, who also goes there now) is always enquired after and the proper greetings and wishes for any approaching festival are exchanged. And we even have our little jokes about my bad Italian and Luisa’s emerging English.
  
  The day before we left for Athens I noticed that is was “almost time to buy a violin” as my mother use to say. As we were going to opening night at the opera with Parsi on the Friday I felt a haircut was in order. I dropped into the barber shop to see if they could take me after school at 4:30 but Mimo was booked up from 2 until 6. Luisa did a bit of fiddling, some frowning, then told me to come back at 4:15 and sent me on my way with a cheery “a presto.” I arrived back at 4:15 and somehow someone had been pushed back, someone else had been pushed forward and I was cut, manicured and massaged.
  
  When a man's barber does that for him, he knows he's arrived wherever he is.

• And a final sign from Athens. When Parsi took us to lunch in the newly redeveloped Gaz area we saw this sign on a building near the restaurant. Anyone want to guess what it is?

25 marzo - Annunciazione del Signore

Psiri Signs II

For all my Mac friends and those of us who admired those marvelous signs but were totally confused by them, my blog buddy Parsi helped out by sending this comment:

Ok, let me help you with this:
1. An instrument maker
2. A box maker (who is called Menelaos, I suppose there must also be an Agamemnon around)
3. Just a bar
4. Just a bar (and a very trendy bar indeed).
5. A place where you can buy a kompoloi (its a string with little balls on it that you play in your hands, I know what you 're thinking, no!!! nothing sexual!!!).
6. A taverna with live music
7. A taverna without live music

As to number 5 I'm shocked he would even think that such thoughts would cross our minds. And Elizabeth, close but no cigar. Hmm I wonder what a cigar makers sign would look like?

16 marzo - Delle Palme

Psiri Signs

According to Matt Barrett's Greece Survival Guide – our source for all things about Greece – Psiri, the area just north of the Acropolis and the Agora is becoming the new Plaka. Shops, eateries and bars are setting up in the area and it is the new place to be in Athens.

Certainly the art of the shop sign is still being practiced along the various narrow streets and alley ways. Lettering is normally in Greek but normally the picture will tell you what the craft or speciality is. Though I must admit in a few cases here I’m totally mystified. (Scroll over a picture for a title.)



13 marzo - Santa Patrizia