Great Scots

Hmm it seems all I post about these days is travelling and being pissed, we here's another one for you. I've just got back (and I literally mean just) from a wedding in Scotland, absolutely fabulous location in the middle of nowhere right next to a Loch.

I have to say being a virgin to Scotland I had a pretty negative image of what the people were going to be like, I'm pleased to say I was proven wrong (unlike the bloody Austrians) very wrong, they're friendly, warm, welcoming and actually quite tasty, it's no wonder the Brits hated them, miserable bunch that we are.

We arrive at our hotel in the wee small hours of Saturday morning, after careful guidance from 'Jane' the Sat Nav in our hire car. The wedding, it turns out, is not the only big event in the area this weekend, to my delight the hotel we're staying in is full of rugged, young, muscly sheep-shearers from around the globe, this weekend is the world champions, fancy that.

I know you'll want to know, big Scottish breakfast, 2 sausages the works. The wedding isn't until 3 so we take a quick driving tour of the surrounding area. We discover a small town with some wonderful falls passing right through the centre of it, we stop for Whiskey, but settle for coffee, when we're told they're not fully licensed.

A quick return to the hotel to get ready and I discover my suit isn't clean, oh well too late to do anything about it now, so much like life I iron out the creases and we're on our way. I have to say I was quite privileged to be asked to be one of the ushers and driving the groom and the best man to the Church, a 700 year old building, possibly dating back further to some time in the Iron age.

The groom being half Italian and the large Scottish family have opted for a full Catholic service including communion, you know the routine, this is my body, eat it, this is my blood, drink it, it's filth. The whole service is performed by an Italian monk who speaks incredibly slowly and clearly loves the sound of his own voice. It's a very dull service and lasts for 2 hours, I'm not good in situations where you have to behave yourself so you can imagine how hard it was not to snigger when he says 'blessed are the meek', it's a line also performed by the Monty Python crew in Life of Brian.

Thankfully the service does conclude and we're all in convoy back to Theresa's parents house, where a marquee has been set up for the breakfast and evenings entertainments. I'm put on a table with no one I know, I'm not happy, fortunately a few glasses of wine later and I don't care. I'm chatting to an incredibly posh lady who introduces herself as 'Helen Holland', I'm chatting away to her about photography (she's clocked my huge lens) and how no one prints pictures these days 'I do' I tell her and then we both regale at my witty wedding pun. We go on to talk about dumbing down of the news on the BBC and standards in broadcasting in general, I'm in way over my head.

After an exquisite meal she drags me onto the dance floor, well when I say drag she's barely finished inviting me and I'm up, and teaches me the Highland Reel, after a few turns by Jove I think I've got it! The highland band finishes a few too many songs late in my opinion and I'm delighted to be able to bust a few moves when the DJ starts, that's not all I bust. Despite how empty AND large the dance floor is, I manage to fall right into the DJ's speaker stand tucked into the corner, crash goes the speaker and the lights on top, for a moment I refuse to believe it's me that's done it, then I'm told otherwise. As a DJ myself I know the guy won't be happy, despite how nice he's being, I give him all the money I have as an offer of good will (£30), I think to myself 'shall I take a picture for the blog? No too soon', the DJ announces there will now be fireworks outside, through one speaker.

Thankfully the rest of the night is fun and no more damage is incurred, we head back to the hotel and the sheep shearers are plastered, the hotel won't give us any more booze, so we nick a bottle of wine from the store and retire to our rooms.

The following day, after a brief 'casual' lunch (I'll be the judge), we head back to the airport, I'm not allowed to drive I've drunk too much at lunch, it doesn't stop me getting into an argument with Jane though (Sat Nav). We get back to the airport to find our flight is cancelled, bloody easyJet, I have to be at work tomorrow, no question, so we make a mad dash in a cab to the train station, we have 55 minutes to catch the last London train. The tickets are £100 each, we'll be sending those into easyJet thank you very much.

Oh god I'm bored of this post now, but the train journey is beautiful and with some fine Scottish single malt even better!

Day 19: A brief reflection

Okay, okay, so the blog of the Vienna job is over but I have another dedication to make, in the style of 'Ode to Smithy' this is dedicated to, as he would put it, 'such a wonderful producer' Pete Spring, and how we shan't be working together for such a long time!

Just to give it a bit of background, when I'm normally busy editing something in the suite, Pete is busy entertaining me with downloads from YouTube, now he is one! Enjoy.

Day 18: So long, farewell

I was going to call this post the Grand Finale, but I've started before I've finished (the day that currently is) so don't really know how it's going to end, if at all. I've packed my bags already in anticipation of a big night tonight, I'm hoping for a final blow out, (don't worry I have every intention of providing a full account of what happens later this evening), but for now I shall look back, reminisce even.

Well looking immediately back at the last 12 hours at least, I've been at work, it's my final day and there's nothing to report. I meant to mention in yesterdays post some fuckers at work riding those micro-scooters around the complex here, they really irritate me and while I don't wish them to have a misfortune, I would like to see one of them fall off. I've had mixed feelings about this job, it's been amazing to strengthen friendships and build bonds with people I've known only through work before now and to rekindle those great friends from years back (you know who you are), these are things that are very important to me as an individual.

I've been spoiled as well to have had so many days off and see this part of Europe, despite my love hate relationship with the Austrians I'd be a pretty bitter individual to not have at least enjoyed some of the country!

Work itself has sadly proved to be less than strenuous, in my professional life I always enjoy a challenge and being put in situations where I need to come up with ideas, solutions or whatever on my feet, that's not really been the case here. The unpredictable nature of football has meant the Croatia Turkey game has not only gone to extra time but penalties as well, that's bad news for my night out.

We get back to the hotel at 1 am everyone else is there and still up for a night out. Five cabs are ordered to ferry us all into town, the fact that I have to be up at 8:30am for the airport doesn't bother me, it's time to say goodbye properly. I think there is some skepticism as to how long we'll last, but needless to say we last.

The night is highly enjoyable, everyone's on good form and much drink is consumed, it's not long before it 5am and I'm pole dancing in some seedy club, i'm really going for it, licking it and everything (it's really not sanitary that kind of thing is it). Eventually we head back to the hotel it's nearly 6, to our surprise the bar is still open (oh who am I kidding after this job of course I'm not surprised) so it's a final round of drinks before I collapse into bed. Goodnight Vienna.

Day 17: A Game of Two Halves

After events of recent and given I'm in work all day, I suspect there is going to be little to inspire me to blog today, how wrong I am. Having not gone out last night, I am awoken sometime around 5am by those who did, there's a lot of shouting and singing, I haven't seen them but I know who it is. I get up and put the deadlock down on my door, I've no idea what they're up to, but I'd rather not be a part of it.


Later on at work I discover one of the guys in the office had fallen victim to one of their drunken pranks, Smithy (the supposed nice guy from my former post) has Knighty's room key and has invited everyone up from the lobby bar to picture him on his bed, in the raw. Apparently there is something like 12 people in his room, all with their cameras out, you can imagine his annoyance, maybe this is Smithy's idea of revenge for what Knighty did with his laptop.

I'm not surprised that no one but me has made breakfast this morning, in fact the breakfast room is much quieter than usual. I have to get to the laundry this morning to settle up my account, when I arrive they tot up my bill, it's 40 euros for two washes, I'm disgusted yet unable to express this in German, that's nearly 35 quid what a bunch of bastards, I try and express this through the medium of dance (well hands flapping), "bitte" and a smile is the response, yeah I bet your smiling, 40 euros and a free touch of my pants.

I call in at the Spar shop on the way to work, it's been bit of a custom for people to buy shared food for the office that we can all pick at. I gather together the usual items, crisps, biscuits, confectionery then I spot these delightful things:

I'm not exactly sure what they are, kittens shits? Naturally I feel these are a must for the food table and purchase them. Later at work when they're opened I discover they look about as appetising as they sound, surprisingly they are quite tasty and when I pop back in later they've all gone, just a little kitty litter left on the table.

I speak to Matt in the evening, and tell him pretty much everything I've posted today, he seems impressed I've used a literary reference in my previous blog, it suddenly dawns on me I've been far too clever trying to make literary references, I'm not well read, and my bluff has been called, well kind of. I explain that I didn't really know much about the work of Dickens, but did find out from my 'research' (Wikipedia) that Dickens published his work in monthly installments, hey I'm posting daily, eat shit Dicken's (if that is your name).

Finally (I've lost my notes for this entry - yes I'm making notes what of it) for this post I thought I'd upload another of the promo's I've done out here, unfortunately they are the only really creative things we get to cut. I've managed to make the file size smaller so it should play a bit better than the last one. I'm sure there is more to add to this post so do come back and check it, I know you will.

Day 16: A Tale of Two Cities

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"

What the Dickens, a literary quote?

I know, it's very scary dear reader, I knew the quote, but never what book it was from. Okay so the only reason I have found out now is because I went online to see if I could find something witty, sharp and cutting to say about the title of this post and pass it off as my own. Instead what I discover is that not only is this book by Charles Dickens, but it has a great opening line that really sums up my time here in Austria. Shame then the book is about Paris and London (thanks Wikipedia). Therefore I have no choice but to start this post again.

Day 16: Brat Camp

I decide to try again with the good intentions I had on Monday, doing something of worth before I leave, I'm pleased to report that today I've been successful. It's my last day off before I return to England so Paul and I decide we are going to take the Twin City Liner river catamaran to the Slovak Republic. Bratislava and Vienna are the two closest capitals in Europe only 60km apart and both situated on the Danube, so the journey even by boat is a little over an hour.

We arrive at the departure point in good time but are held in a queue for 20 minutes, only one window is open at the kiosk and it's slow service. 7 minutes before departure they open a second window, we're served but told there is only one seat left, the next boat is at 16:30 (it's nearly 12:30 now). We ask if we can book a seat on the return journey from Bratislava instead ''i'm sorry it is full, we have tickets on the 22:30'', travelling by boat at night seems a little pointless ''maybe there will be cancellations on the 18:30" he continues, we ask if that is an option and he explains that at the captains discretion 12 seats on the top deck are released an hour before departure time. It's a beautiful day so we decide we'll try our luck when we get there and start to make our way to Bratislava by train using our accreditation.

We arrive at the Sudbahnhoff and it's feels like we've been thrown back to some nasty, dark, communist type era, it's quite a depressing building (although the picture doesn't do it justice) and far removed from the other remarkable buildings in Vienna. We're given all sorts of strange directions to our train, take the stairs up a level and turn left, when they actually mean go downstairs and take a right, we're both very confused and then it dawns on me, it's Wednesday, of course, opposite Wednesdays, how foolish of me.

A few ascents and descents, lefts and rights and we finally find what we're fairly certain is the train to Bratislava, as pointed out here by Paul.

We climb aboard and settle into our sumptuous 1st class seats, I take a look around and realise they are no different to 2nd class, oh well.

Whenever I find myself at points of transit in foreign countries be it airports, railway stations whatever, I always have a sense of excitement and anticipation about moving on, much like i'm in one of Michael Palin's travel documentaries, today is no different, even though I know I'm coming back again.

When we arrive at the main station in Bratislava it's in an even worse state than the one in Vienna, yet somehow I feel it has much more character, much more of a story to tell, this is probably aided the train covered in graffiti stood at the next platform.

As we walk into town we pass several beautiful buildings that have fallen into a poor state of repair, one in particular is in a terrible condition, the roof is missing tiles and all the exterior rendering is cracked, it could easily be a five star hotel but I much prefer it's faded grandeur. A short distance further and we discover a building that is immaculate, it's the Presidential Palace and we're lucky enough to witness changing of the guards. They're all in their military colours, but neither Paul or I are convinced that their sunglasses are military issue.

The tourist information we have for the city promotes itself as 'The Big Little City', we're rapidly discovering Bratislava IS a small city, we walk another kilometre on and arrive at the castle, I can't remember what it was called, but I can recall that the information in the leaflet said there had been documented settlement on the site in the Little Carpathians since the Iron Age (yes Jon that's true) and almost certainly before due to it's strategic location in central Europe. The leaflet also said that the silhouette of the castle at night was reminiscent of an upturned table, now that's my kind of fact.

The view over Bratislava from the castle is beautiful, I always like seeing cities from a higher vantage point, I enjoy getting a sense of it's topography and the different buildings that characterise it. We walk down from here to into the old city to explore further.

The old town is incredibly beautiful and very clean, it obviously helps that it's a beautiful sunny day, but I'm taken by the colours of the buildings and the more modest size and styling of the architecture in general to that of Vienna, it's more like, a me kind of city, like you know? I'm also pleased to see the restaurateurs have taken a sensitive and sympathetic approach to their environment, it's all very tasteful and there isn't a touch of neon anywhere (and I still like it). It seems such a shame when you realise this place gets swamped at the weekends by stag and hen do's from the rest of Europe.

Slovakia is still reasonably cheap compared to the rest of Europe, I've taken out 500 Koruna but have no idea how much money this actually is, I have to text Matt to find out, he kindly informs me it's £13.10p in the market today. We stop for a quick drink before continuing our tour, when we move on we discover a small group of musicians warming up for a performance, we stop and watch them for a moment or two, I'm thrilled when I recognise the songs as show tunes from My Fair Lady, why didn't I think of that musical on Monday night, oh I'm a good girl I am.

It's getting late so we decide to head down to the river to see if we can get tickets for the boat, the weather is still good so we're optimistic. I'm told we have to wait 10 minutes before he will speak to the captain, there are other tourists lurking near the ticket booth, desperate I suspect to get their dirty hands on these tickets too, we're in position 1, I'm not budging, we must have those tickets, I feel like Veruca Salt, I'm going to get on that boat if it kills me, or the captain says no, either way is good (well actually that's bad really isn't it?).

The 10 minute waits feels like forever (when it lasts 10 minutes), finally the guy calls the captain, "ya hallo"
something in Slovak
"ya"
what are they saying?
"ya"
This is agony
"oh ya, okay"
We're in, the captain is going to let us hop aboard tonight.
"Er Dan"
"Yes Paul"
"I don't have my passport"
Paul has made an illegal entry into another country without his passport.
"Bye"
Of course I don't really say bye, I tell him to just get a ticket and blag it, there almost certainly won't be any border control on the way back if there wasn't on the way in.

The boat departs and quickly reaches it's cruising speed of 50kmph, it's overtaking everything on the river, it certainly is exhilarating being on top (and these are the cheap seats?).

It takes little over an hour to get back to Vienna, it seems a shame to have spent so little time in such a beautiful city, I make a resolve to return. As we disembark Paul identifies two officials with the word Policez on their jackets, he has no choice but to make excuses, fortunately a little white lie about not needing it on the way out is enough to appease them, well that and the queue of people behind him.

We return to the hotel via the go-karts in the park, there are rumours there is going to be a big night tonight as several people are flying home tomorrow, both Paul and I are tired and want to go to bed, not together of course, to our own beds.

I get to my room, hurrah I've finally resisted a late night out, I decide to write up todays blog entry, when I finish I look at the clock and realise it's 2am. Damn.

Day 15: Big Nothing

Well I'm at work on time, that's a little bit of a result right there, and it's busy today, very busy. So this work nonsense that is getting in the way of F-U-N is practically intolerable, oh well I'm off again tomorrow I shall simply have to have double fun then, oh and maybe pop to Bratislava for the day.

Day 14: Danny In Wonderland.

The day starts with good intention, as they all do, today I'm DEFINITELY not partying (don't read ahead and spoil it), today is THE day I culture myself up, fact. It has to happen and there is plenty planned for today to make sure it does. I've made breakfast in exceptionally good time, I've sorted my laundry, I uploaded the extra pics and stuff to the blog, nothing can go wrong. Nothing.

First things first, a run, I am absolutely stunned at how much weight I've accumulated after 2 months of living away from home, my trainer will not be impressed, he might even laugh at me, he did last time. I hit my first snag of the day, well more like a root actually, and I find myself limping back to the hotel, only to see 5 fresh-faced colleagues from work all limbering up for their morning sabbatical.

Determined to continue in the spirit of the day (the good bit, not the injuring myself bit) I make ready for a trip to the KunstHaus Wien, careful how you're saying that now, it's been recommended to me by my flatmate. I've checked on the map, it's a short distance from the hotel and despite the minor injury, I'm going to walk it.

It's a nice hot day and the Austrians haven't upset me too much in recent days, I've had a good night's sleep and there is no hangover, one might almost say I had a spring in my step, except it's more of a limp. I cross the river and find the museum/gallery with no real problems.

The exterior of the building is quite unsual, it's design is supposed to challenge modern architectural conventions, this continues inside, however I'm not allowed to take pictures. The floors are deliberately curvy and uneven and the whole building has an arty-rustic feel to it.

The building purposely has trees growing out of the window as a message to society that, historically, the construction of cities and dwellings for mankind is often to the detriment of nature and it reminds us that it is nature that gives us life, clean air, light and shade, it's all very worthy.

Inside the gallery it's all a little same-y for my liking and I couldn't actually recollect any picture individually this morning, only that they were bright and colourful. Upstairs is an exhibition by a photographer called Guy Bourdin, a fashion photographer of note during the 50's, 60's & 70's. It's mainly a private collection of photos and fashion prints from Vogue. The copy in the museum would have me believe they are 'provocative, challenging images' I simply think they are sexualized images of women, verging on the pornographic and I don't much care for them. After a few hours of looking around I leave, pleased I've seen it but not feeling anymore enlightened. Outside mind I take a picture of this bollard and on review realise that I also may have captured my very own provocative image.

I decide to take a quick trip to one of the cities big shopping streets, I get there and it's busy, already the streets are teaming with Austrian and German football fans. In amongst the hustle and bustle I find I want retail shelter as soon as possible, yet some how completely bypass the Diesel store, it must be the heat, I dive into a department store for some air conditioning, you can imagine my sheer shock/joy when standing right ahead of me is none other than Cristiano Ronaldo, I'm staring at him and actually can't look anywhere else, I can't believe it's him.

Of course it turns out it isn't him, well at least I worked out it couldn't possibly be him. He's currently in Switzerland for the quarter-finals of the Euro's, so why would he be in a bog-standard department store in Vienna buying a Nike t-shirt, particularly when he's sponsored by them, but he was his double. I decide to head back to the hotel for a cold shower, the crowds and the midday sun are too hot and so is lookie-likie Ronaldo.

Myself and a few work colleagues meet at the stadium in the evening for the Austria v Germany match, we've got commentary position seats. It's going to be a great game, if the Austrians can by some fluke beat them they'll be through to the quarter-finals. I find it quite strange that one punter is deep in a book while everyone else is piling into the stadium.

After an hour and a half of trying to find out where we were supposed to pick up our tickets from we're in. The seats are great, I suppose they have to be if they're meant for commentators, the atmosphere in the stadium is amazing and the crowd are whipped up I also get a little tingle of excitement when some of the footage I edited is shown on the big screens (and it wasn't even good stuff!).

The match is fairly lack lustre, Austria play terribly and unsurprisingly Germany win with a great goal from Michael Ballack. At the end of the match we make a dart for the hotel, taking advantage of our seat location and getting out of the grounds swiftly. Back at the hotel everyone has reconvened and plans are afoot to head into town, I am ready to make my excuses and head to bed, I have finished my drink and even said goodnight to a few people, I'm working tomorrow, I am being sensible.

I'm not going to blame my other editor friends who came in at that point for what happened next, I had already texted them saying I would wait for them, see what their plans were. No the person I'm going to blame is myself for being so weak willed, I was a short lift journey from bed, I was nearly there, I nearly made it, I was tired, I SHOULD have made it.

I might as well copy what happens next from any of the other posts, we got drunk. To be fair not AS drunk as the other nights, but drunk enough, drunk enough to take these pictures.

Drunk enough to (and this I AM proud of) get everyone singing show tunes, amongst us some of the finest football producers in England all quite 'straight'. The bar has called last orders at least 5 times this evening, except as you'll see from the video below it's no longer this evening, it is very much tomorrow morning in a very real, but sadly not very sobering way.

I feel sorry for the hotel staff, they have been tolerant far and beyond any reasonable level for our sing-in, I'm amazed none of the other guests have complained. It's so late the morning staff have come in and are setting up breakfast, a chant of 'we're all staying for breakfast, we're all staying for breakfast, la la laa laaaa' has been struck up to the tune of "Let's All Do The Conga'. Finally I exhibit a show of strength and gracefully retire to bed, well not without a finale first anyway.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' to the tune of 'Don't Leave Me This Way' performed at 6am this morning.

Vienna: Additonal Material Pt 1

Most of the material here relates back to previous posts and is mostly from other people, this is not todays entry, all I've done is had breakfast and this, I cannot make this point clearly enough this is NOT the main entry for day 14, it hasn't happened yet, I couldn't even attempt to predict the outcome of todays events, not one bit, so don't ask, honestly it's like the paparazzi here, guys, guys, guys, just leave me alone (of course I'd never really say that).

Kev & I share an intimate moment

Stephan The Crazy German & I

We 3 Kings, or rather 1 King & 2 Queens


How did that get in there?

Inner calm and general sense of unease

Our tour guide Shane

The tour group
An important and slightly ambiguous message for us all
Jacko insists on being arrested for being a very 'bad' girl

One of the football promos I did (not great but the most interesting cutting we're doing out here)

Day 12 & 13: Yes it's all coming back to me now

Due to the events of last night, the day has largely been written off. I don't get up till 2, it's a pretty shameful show on my part given that I could have been taking advantage of free train travel and escaping the city, instead I have to settle for a crusty old BLT, large Red Bull and a hangover (yet again).

As much as I really want to see him, the prospect of meeting my crazy German friend tonight gives me the fear, I just know as much as I beg, plead and make my excuses he'll want a big one, I however do not.

It is a big one, I'm not impressed (and neither should you be) my hopes of being away from the pack for the night are not realised, walking down the street I bump into one of my work colleagues, they're all heading to a club and we should definitely follow, apparently. We do and it is shite, seriously it is one of the worst clubs I've ever been to, not cosmetically, I mean visually it was quite nice, stylish even, but brim-full of wankers. It's a hip-hop club and all the punters are very much on show, it irritates the crap out of me, especially when the bouncer informs me 'I will have to pay again' if I go outside to help give my friend directions. What astounds me more though is that although my friends from work are hating it as much as I am, no one is making the effort to leave, one guy puts it beautifully when he says 'I would rather eat my face off than stay here' it really is that bad. Perpetuating my anger at the place is one clubber who, despite the low lighting, is wearing shades, fuck-the-fuck-off!

The partying continues well into the night and well past my personal fail-safe time (the time in which I think I can get back and still get enough sleep for my 9 o clock start at work) it does not bode well for the morning. Having danced rather a lot and been on my feet for quite some time, I draw the line at being dragged to our 4th venue of the night, my foot is hurting so much I am actually limping. As soon as I am released from Brenna's grip (she really was dragging me) I make a limp for the cab rank. There are none and a long queue, I decide to try flagging a cab on the other side of the river, I'm in luck, some other people try and get in before me but thankfully the cabbie had stopped for me. I think I try a conversation with him in German, it doesn't go well. Fortunately for him it's only a short distance to the hotel. I remember very little after that point, only that my phone was telling me my alarm was due to go off in 3 hours and 44 minutes

Day 13: 3 hours and 44 minutes later

I awake to the sound of my laptop blaring out random music and my phone alarm. Needless to say I'm not well rested. I drench myself in a futile cold shower and actually realise I could have had another 20 minutes in bed, I also discover evidence that I didn't go straight to sleep, my suspicions are raised upon discovery of an empty packet of Haribo Fizzy Cola Bottles.

Remarkably I do make it down to breakfast AND manage to eat something. I make it into work and am grateful not to be given anything to do for the first hour. This is possibly going to go down as one of THE worse days at work I've ever had. I forge on and upon arrival of Brenna and Paul on the late shift the mood begins to lighten as does my feeling of nausea, perhaps we're all still drunk, our behaviour might suggest so.

We start a game of playing shit music through the intercom (it's supposed to be for essential communication) with YouTube at the ready it's a race to see who can find the worse songs. Betty Boo, Charlene, Backstreet Boys and countless others all make the grade, then the conversation turns very smutty, well mostly anal actually, talking about gay sex and shoving Mars bars down peoples pants when they pass out drunk. I'm also quizzed on whether there is any truth in the reports I was seen 'pashing' a bloke last night, if I was I'd like to know about it too.

Thankfully work is not too vexing, but constant enough to take my mind of the poor state of play today. I enjoy hearing Knighty (another guy in the office) begging Smithy to lend him his laptop again so he can 'speak' to his girlfriend, this from the guy who has already confessed to having a WW (work wank) and when he borrowed it previously had an 'active' call with his girlfriend, all of which has happened in Smithys room and not his own!

I'm grateful when 9pm finally rolls around and I can go back to the hotel. I finish up writing this entry (it's been dribs and drabs throughout the day) I can't believe quite how much has happened in the last 48 hours. Tomorrow I shall post some of the pictures I've received from other people and I'm going to see the Austria v Germany match at the stadium. Should be good!

Day 11: What A Difference A Gay Makes

Well I'm off again for two days, I should have been going to Salzburg for the day, but the producer I was going to go with has postponed, the imminent arrival of his wife and the fact that he hasn't done much of the local tourist attractions so far has probably influenced his rethink, well that and the tickets he has for a match there next week.

So instead I meet him and a few others in town for a rather unique guided tour, lead by said producer and aided by his trusty guide book. What you should know about Shane (the producer) is he is very funny, not always intentionally, but you can guarantee whatever he says it will be tinged with a bitter dryness and all delivered in his thick Irish accent. So we start at the cathedral in Stephanplatz, it is stunning inside and has been lit beautifully.

Moving along the tour we take in Mozarts house, the Fleischmarkt (meat market) and no it's not a club and other 'notable points of interest'. We sneak into the Institute of Science where a scientist who looks something like this has just walked out of and informed us of the buildings purpose:

A few chemical experiments later and we pop into another church right next door which contains one of the most stunning pulpits I've ever seen, not that I go into churches much, they always give me a strange burning sensation and the water in the fonts starts bubbling for some reason.

So the tour concludes and we take a late lunch, you can imagine my sheer delight on discovery of this little shop, which by coincidence also tickled Smithy with whom we hadn't yet met up. There are some 'accidental' pictures of me with the sign in the background, but they're on my chums camera so I'll have to wait till I can get a copy to show you.

Next up we head back down to the Fanzone to watch Italy v Romania (god it feels strange writing about football so much!) it's a pretty decent match and Romania are unlucky not to beat the Italians, a draw however is not a great result for my predictor placing though, I had this down as an Italy win. The Town Hall or Rathaus as it's known in Austrian has been beautifully lit and is a great backdrop for the football.

With a certain inevitability the drinking starts, we stay in the Fanzone for the 2nd match of the day Holland v France, it's an absolute belter of a match. I've got Holland to win 2-1 they absolutely storm in a 4 - 1 win, I still get 3 points though for predicting a win. After the matches they have a DJ to keep the crowd going, I'm well on my way and dancing is the order of the day, there is video evidence of this, whether I am brave enough to post it when I am given it is another thing!

So another night out, we head into a rammed bar down by the river, the music is pretty good and we stay there for the duration, Brenna and I are doing our best to 'dance-off' with each other, but it's pretty pokey (the bar). We head back to the hotel sometime after 3 and finish off one of the free bottles of wine from the first week and talk about life in general, god I'm drunk and I have to meet Stephan tomorrow, the crazy German I worked with at the World Cup 2 years ago. Bugger.

Day 11: An Ode to Smithy

I dedicate this short video to Smithy, one of the worlds nice-guys, he recently got dumped by his girlfriend of many years but is putting a jolly brave face on it! He's been begging, pleading and even trying to pay me to make a blog entry about him since we've been here, last night he gave me good reason to!

Well actually there's lot's of good reasons to, although he was a bit silly, he went on a ride he didn't want to, knew he wouldn't like, was told it was horrible by someone who'd been on it, but still went on it because he didn't want to lose face with the other boys, needless to say I wasn't so foolish.

Smithy this is for you, keep smiling!

Days 8, 9 & 10: Hit & Miss

Apologies for the lateness of this post, I was hoping to put some additional material on the blog, but it hasn't materialised.

The truth is there's not an awful lot to write up when you're coming to the end of 3 days on 12 hour shifts, I mean I woke up each morning, check; I had breakfast every morning, er half-check; I even got to bed early, er check if you mean early in the morning Searle. Yes I'm afraid despite the late finishes there's still been chance to sup a few ales before bed, the great thing about this shift system is there's always someone who's off. I'm even more in respect of some of the team out here who are out every night but back in for work in the morning.

I thought I'd post a sample of one of the few creative things i've had chance to cut out here, but this was the item I couldn't convert so you'll have to wait a few more days sadly.

Also I thought I'd post a picture of the tin-shed hotel we're living in at the moment.

Now back to the Austrians, I think my flatmate summed them up beautifully on the phone earlier this week when she said, 'they're not only rude they want to let you know how rude they're being', perfect, so no things haven't really improved on that front.

Here for your enjoyment was my drunken attempt at introducing some of the crew out here:

And here is the lovely Brenna and I, who have been unfortunate enough to be placed on opposite shifts so rarely get to hang out together which is a shame because she is brilliant.
Oh and one final other thing which I think is hilarious, I am doing really well in the office tournament predictor, which is basically where we all predict the outcome of the matches and score 5 points for right result, right score eg: Germany 2 - 0 Austria (no they haven't played yet I know) but as you'll see from the link I am doing very well:

http://web.mac.com/tonyleeharley/media219/euro2008.html

In fact because I joined in after 2 of the matches I missed out on some points, I'd be 1 point behind the leader if I'd joined at the start! The best part though is Paul 'Reddo' Redman at the bottom is one of TWI's senior football producers, now that's what I call a result.

Day 7: Big Nothing

Okay so the truth of the matter is we got absolutely shit-faced yesterday, the only redeeming part was that I managed to get myself home at a semi-reasonable time and thus provide myself with a little damage limitation, er yes and make breakfast!

On the way back (I walked) I discovered about 500 German fans watching the match underneath this bridge, so I sat with them to watch the last 20 minutes. It was quite strange, but oddly enjoyable, particularly because it was pissing down with rain.


So yes today I spent most of my time editing the short video on the previous post, doing boring stuff like laundry (and yes a run was achieved today!). I'm glad to report that the rain last night has cleared the air greatly and it was hot and dry today.

Had dinner this evening in the Prater Park at the same beer garden we ate in a few days ago, who had English menus then, but apparently 'no we do not have any English menus', I beg to differ, well I don't beg, rather I sigh at his indifference. Had to get money out earlier from this lovely ATM, the Piggy Bank, that oinks and snuffles at you as you withdraw cash. Marvellous.

Day 6: Red Mist

Okay, so I might make a more detailed entry on the events of the day later, but this video covers most of it and I'm proud to say I filmed it all on my mobile phone, aaah technology!

Day 5: It's kicking off

I refer, of course to the football. As from today we have fresh football footage to work with and there is a certain buzz about the production office. Even I'm in good spirits, no hangover to contend with and I even managed a 30 minute run this morning. Crazy. So I thought I would post a few more pictures from the work environment, well it's content and actually I think the infrastructure that is put in place for an event like this is quite impressive, remember it's all temporary and in a month will be taken down in no time at all.

MCR - Master Control Room

This is where all the feeds from the event are monitored and er controlled.

Promos Suite - This is where the exciting fast cut football promos are edited, well it would be if the first 8 cut before we arrived hadn't been so right-royally, er, fouled. Tony, pictured, struggles through another day!

So if I see anything else worthy of a picture I'll post it.

So what upset me today? Well the bloody foreign laptops they've got, which rather frustratingly have the 'y' and the 'z' key in opposite places, I know you're probably thinking, so what (I might even be thinking that now) but then aload of other keys are also in different places or require the use of FN + Alt to access them, aaargh. Maybe they've done it to stop me prefixing words with 'z' thus making them hi-larious and sound German, or rather, zounding German.

So given the second match was Portugal (who won) it seemed only appropriate and fitting to post a picture of Ronaldo with his top off (again). The score was eventually 1-0, but I couldn't help but be amused by the commentator when he said 'Portugal strike wood again' after several efforts on goal.

So I'm off tomorrow and will probably head down to the Fanzone in Vienna, it's Austria's first match and hopefully they can generate some atmosphere, like the 200 000 Croatians that are expected in town. Here's hoping.

Day 4: Home, Suite Home

So these are to be my two homes for the next few weeks, my pokey little hotel room overlooking the industrial estate, nice, and the make-shift edit suite (both pictured below):

The food really is meaty out here and trying to find anything other than sausage is proving difficult.

So there it is, not much to report, a 12 hour shift, pretty much problem free. I'm off on Sunday , everyone else has taken the river trip to Bratislava, I think i'll be doing that then!

I might even get in a run in the morning. Result.

Day 3: Oh Vienna

Quick post to conclude the day 3 entry and it needs to be said; Vienna (or Wien) as it's referred to in the native tongue, much better at night. So we go back into the centre for a light meal, get absolutely stung by some Italians for two bottles of wine at 39 euros each, utter shits.

Regardless of that little incident we find a lovely little bar that was empty until the 20 of us rocked up! Turns out it's run by father and daughter and they are so nice. They turn the music up for us and keep us in drinks till nearly 3am, very chatty and we're settling up about to leave the man gives one of the party a bag full of wine, 6 bottles. We can't believe it and try insisting he's is being totally unnecessary, but he wants to give us a gift and tells us we can enjoy it back at the hotel. Result things are looking up in Vienna!

Oh yeah forgot to mention in previous blog entry I saw a bar called Wodka Bar, amused me greatly, and the Viennese keep calling me bitter after they serve stuff, a little judgmental perhaps?

Day 3: This means nothing to me

The second day of training turns out not to be the case, they need people to start working or take the day off, frankly I want to start doing stuff and I know that I have Thursday scheduled off so I opt to work. It's a frustrating start, it turns out that everything we were taught doesn't actually work in practice and we spend the day finding workarounds - the downside to this is that I find myself doing the same job five times over. On top of this it seems no decisions have been made prior to our arrival for style and presentation to clients.

As the day progressed things did improve and we felt much happier, but we were all in need of food and beer. We found a beer garden near the hotel and were welcomed in but subsequently rushed to order and be out as quickly as possible, not particularly easy for a group of 17 people, few of whom speak German. One of my friends ordered a dish which was basically joint of roast pork, it was huge and would have fed the whole table. A rapid consumption of beer and the pressure to be out of the place led to a lot of pints being ordered at once:
Even so given the short amount of time we had there you can imagine our surprise when the bill arrived with a staggering 62 beers on it, making up well over half the cost of the entire meal. I walked back to the hotel with one of the girls who, quite reasonably, didn't want to walk through the red light area alone. The others did eventually make it back to the hotel with a small party wanting to find a strip club, I made it clear that I didn't want any part of that sort of going out, so a group of us stayed in the hotel bar and then came back to my room to damage the mini bar!

Thursday

Overslept, missed breakfast. Fortunately had the day off! Met up with a few of the other guys who were off also and we started to explore central Vienna. Whilst the buildings are really quite spectacular in places, including the stunning church we walked through (pictured), I felt the city lacked the ambiance and character that is defining of so many other cities.

Also, as I had previously been warned, the Austrians really don't seem all that friendly, you'd have thought I would fit right in with a bunch of bitter old bastards who seem to resent everything in their lives, no alright even I'm not that bad. Still I'm not currently feeling a great deal of warmth towards the natives, but then again if I'm going to insist on doing my Sven voice everywhere I go, they're probably not going to take to me either.

So the last destination before returning to the hotel to write my ramblings was the 'fun' park which is right next door to us, it's huge and with so many rides we're spoilt for choice. We opt for a giant rotating swing that must rise several hundred feet in the air, the guy operating it asks me where I'm from, I tell him (he's quite cute) I'm from England, he laughs and says 'no football for you zen'. Absolutely right. The view at the top of the ride is amazing and I can see for miles. We enjoy a few other rides including the mildly amusing ghost train, but I opt not to go on this beast of a ride which spins you around at 120kmph according to it's speed read out! Uber fast.
I'm worried, I've spent nearly a third of my allowance in three days and we're out tonight as well!

Dis is not uber cool.

Vienese Searle

Okay another brief post because I don't want to type it all out again, but I'm currently in Austria and I'll be keeping an ocassional record of my journey here, however I've posted the first entry on my other travel blog from Australia to start the ball rolling!

mattanddandooz.blogspot.com

Enjoy and watch this space very soon!