Although my German is far from great and I speak a fair amount of English per day, I really notice parts of my English vocabulary disappearing. For instance, this morning I couldn't remember how to spell 'acronym' - I thought it was 'anacronym', whatever that is.
And the other day I described our baby as coming on in 'heaps and bounds' not 'leaps and bounds'.
Although it could just be down to me losing my marbles in general, it's a weird feeling. Perhaps my brain can't cope with two languages. For every German word I learn, do I lose an English one?
27 August 2010
19 August 2010
Javier Gomez - what a great guy!
Just finished a two day shoot with one of the world's best triathletes, Javier Gomez at the Erzberg open cast mine in Styria. A totally down to earth guy, Javier was so easy to work with, even after we made him swim in a freezing cold lake, covered him in mud, got him running through puddles and chased him with enormous dumper trucks. The results from super-photographer Markus Berger will be fantastic and we Doris at Erzberg looked after us like she was our mum for two days.
5 August 2010
Jetlag
Playing a few records with Herb tomorrow night at Jetlag if anyone is in Salzburg:
When: Friday, 6 August 2010; 20:30
Where: Jetlag, Herrengasse 28a (www.jetlag.at)
Who: DJ Number 82 & Fresh Herbs turning tables, Wolfgang spinning bottles
All welcome! Check the podcasts on the right for a sample of what you'll hear.
When: Friday, 6 August 2010; 20:30
Where: Jetlag, Herrengasse 28a (www.jetlag.at)
Who: DJ Number 82 & Fresh Herbs turning tables, Wolfgang spinning bottles
All welcome! Check the podcasts on the right for a sample of what you'll hear.
2 August 2010
Blasmusik
Rural Austrian life is tradition personified. During summer, rituals, customs and festivals take place almost on a weekly basis and it's easy to become immune to them. However, occasionally you are reminded how cool these things are and can really appreciate their meaning: a community coming together for a party.
Sunday August 1, was the annual Blasmusik festival in the village, which basically means a day long oompah and boozing session in celebration of the village brass band.
It's a dry affair to begin with, but as the day progresses becomes more and more raucous. Since our flat overlooks the square where it's all happening, it's highly entertaining to watch the steady digression into full-on beer fest.
6.30am
Yes, 6.30am. The 50-strong band marches down the high street playing a march of some sort. The noise rises straight up from the road below into our bedroom which is kind of like having someone bashing symbols next to your ear. This year our baby, Angus, has woken us up already, so we don't mind so much and he was quite fascinated by the racket.
After waking up the entire village at this ungodly hour, the band ends up having breakfast down at the Schützenhof hotel by the lake.
9.30am
A leisurely breakfast consumed, a service begins in the square in front of the church. The band play the music for the hymns, while the priest churns out the usual catholic monologues. It's all very civilised and respectful.
10.30am
The band relocate to the bandstand on the Dorfplatz main village square. The conductor, a jolly looking chap, gets things going with a spot of banter before they lurch into a few polkas. The beer taps open and sausages go on the grill.
Midday
Things are pretty much in full swing now. The tables and benches set up in the square are full with villagers and the booze is flowing. The band continue to pump out the tunes, sticking to mainly traditional folk music, polkas and marches. In between numbers the conductor's banter gets longer and the musicians sink a few drinks. There are an increasing amount of toasts to various causes and people with each one followed by the obligatory "Ein Prosit" song that is ingrained into Austrian culture like mountains, snow and singing nuns.
2.30pm
The sun is out and it's starting to get messy. There's a schnapps toast between each song where a plank with shot glasses fixed to at regular spacing is brought out. Five bods are hauled up to the stage and stand in a row with their hands behind their backs. They must drink the schnapps from the shot glasses on the plank as it is tilted by enthusiastic folk at each end. Hilarity ensues when a shorter lady can barely reach the shot glass and most of the schnapps goes down her top.
5pm
The band are looking a bit sozzled and have pretty much stopped playing for the day except for one older member who dons a fedora and starts belting out Frank Sinatra songs. To give him his dues, he really isn't bad and the audience love it.
7pm
Twelve hours of music and drinking complete, there are just a few hardy souls still knocking back the beer. An occasional trumpet parp and chorus of Ein Prosit is heard well into the night, but most have staggered home to sleep it off.
Check the video from Pension Huber:
Sunday August 1, was the annual Blasmusik festival in the village, which basically means a day long oompah and boozing session in celebration of the village brass band.
It's a dry affair to begin with, but as the day progresses becomes more and more raucous. Since our flat overlooks the square where it's all happening, it's highly entertaining to watch the steady digression into full-on beer fest.
6.30am
Yes, 6.30am. The 50-strong band marches down the high street playing a march of some sort. The noise rises straight up from the road below into our bedroom which is kind of like having someone bashing symbols next to your ear. This year our baby, Angus, has woken us up already, so we don't mind so much and he was quite fascinated by the racket.
After waking up the entire village at this ungodly hour, the band ends up having breakfast down at the Schützenhof hotel by the lake.
9.30am
A leisurely breakfast consumed, a service begins in the square in front of the church. The band play the music for the hymns, while the priest churns out the usual catholic monologues. It's all very civilised and respectful.
10.30am
The band relocate to the bandstand on the Dorfplatz main village square. The conductor, a jolly looking chap, gets things going with a spot of banter before they lurch into a few polkas. The beer taps open and sausages go on the grill.
Midday
Things are pretty much in full swing now. The tables and benches set up in the square are full with villagers and the booze is flowing. The band continue to pump out the tunes, sticking to mainly traditional folk music, polkas and marches. In between numbers the conductor's banter gets longer and the musicians sink a few drinks. There are an increasing amount of toasts to various causes and people with each one followed by the obligatory "Ein Prosit" song that is ingrained into Austrian culture like mountains, snow and singing nuns.
2.30pm
The sun is out and it's starting to get messy. There's a schnapps toast between each song where a plank with shot glasses fixed to at regular spacing is brought out. Five bods are hauled up to the stage and stand in a row with their hands behind their backs. They must drink the schnapps from the shot glasses on the plank as it is tilted by enthusiastic folk at each end. Hilarity ensues when a shorter lady can barely reach the shot glass and most of the schnapps goes down her top.
5pm
The band are looking a bit sozzled and have pretty much stopped playing for the day except for one older member who dons a fedora and starts belting out Frank Sinatra songs. To give him his dues, he really isn't bad and the audience love it.
7pm
Twelve hours of music and drinking complete, there are just a few hardy souls still knocking back the beer. An occasional trumpet parp and chorus of Ein Prosit is heard well into the night, but most have staggered home to sleep it off.
Check the video from Pension Huber:
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