"The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering." - Tom Waits
After leaving New York, I had unmemorable visits to Atlanta, Houston and Dallas. I had planned on visiting the NASA Johnson Space Center in Houston, it being the 50th anniversary of mankind’s visit to the moon and me being a sci-fi buff. But I was sidetracked by a few Naija owambes. Truth be told, it was nice to eat some Naija food after weeks of oyinbo food. But picture-wise none of those three cities were particularly interesting for me.
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So, right. To Uncle Sam.
After junketing through Europe, I flitted across the Atlantic to Gotham. The first city on my US jaunt.
New York may not be everybody’s cup of tea, but I absolutely love it in the city. Unpretentious, vibrant and doesn’t give a rat’s ass (which is ironic, given the huge number of rats in the city). New York wasn’t created for tourists; tourists were created for New York. In Gotham, everyone has places to be and things to do, and if you get in their way, well, you’re gonna know about it.
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So, lets talk about Amsterdam.
If you are reading this blogpost, chances are you probably read the earlier post that led to it. However, if you didn’t or haven’t, it might be a good idea to. The link is here.
Amsterdam was the first point of call on my European jaunt. I had never been to Amsterdam although I had flown KLM severally. I was therefore looking forward to seeing the city.
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So, here we are. Berlin.
The second city on my European jaunt. The first was Amsterdam. You can read about that here.
After spending two middling days in Amsterdam, I took the Deutsche Bahn IC train from the Amsterdam Centraal station to Hannover, where I changed unto the ultra-modern ICE Sprinter train to Berlin Hauptbanhof. Comfortable and fleet those ICE Sprinter trains. The whole journey took about 6hr 40m.
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So Munich was the third city I was visiting on my 9-day, 5-city Jewish-persecution/European jaunt. You can read about my visit to Berlin here and the visit to Amsterdam here.
My chariot from Berlin Hauptbanhof to Munich Hauptbanhof was again the ultra-fast ICE Sprinter service. I clocked that train doing over 200km/hr at periods. We got to Munich in just under four hours.
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So, on to Central Europe. To Budapest.
Just so you know, Hungarians hate it when you refer to Hungary as being in Eastern Europe. They are in C-E-N-T-R-A-L-E-U-R-O-P-E!
My train from Munich to Budapest was the Euronight sleeper train Kalman Imre. It leaves Munich Hbf at 23:00pm to arrive Budapest Keleti station at about 9 am. I’d booked a berth in a 4-bed couchette for a comfortable night sleep. Myself and a pleasant Swiss guy turned out to be the only residents of the cabin. Sweet.
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On to the last leg of my European jaunt. To Krakow, Poland.
If this is the first post you are reading about my European jaunt, it might be worthwhile to read why I embarked on this 9-day, 5-city tour. You’ll find that here. You may then follow up with accounts of my trips to Amsterdam, Berlin, Munich and Budapest.
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There is so much incompetence in high places it beggars belief. I mean, how difficult can it be beating Liverpool?
Barcelona had only one job to do. Not two or even a one and a half job. Just one. Beat Liverpool and get the life-long adulation of Jide.
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I joined the Marvel fanboy horde and went to see Avengers: Endgame. I’ll talk about the movie itself in a second. But let’s linger a bit on the influence of America and Hollywood on our minds.
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So, I went about some shutterbug business over the weekend. This photography hobby has taken over me like a fake aladura spirit. I’m smitten. I put on my camera backpack and went to Makoko.
1 CommentMaths is a fraud. Centuries of exaltation and glorification are misplaced. Or why has a discipline that underpins all calculations been unable to come up with the formula for success? The equation to be oprah-rich? What’s the use of Chaos Theory, Euler’s Polyhedra Formula or the Fibonacci Sequence if it can’t tell you how to get some moolah into your pocket? We’ve been had by the likes of Archimedes, John Nash and señor Pythagoras.
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Old age is not something I worry about a lot. Not because I have a pot of gold squirrelled away somewhere. My pot of gold is at the end of the rainbow. I know it’s there. All I have to do is beat everyone to the rainbow and dispossess the leprechaun guarding the pot.
Hang on a second! I’ve just had an epiphany!
In Nigeria, the leprechauns are politicians!
Howdy good folks! Trust January hasn’t met you in penury.
Oh, I like the sound of that! ‘January and penury.’ “ Save ye for the days to come lest reproach come upon thee like penury in January.” It’s a corny rhyme but I don’t care. It came in the moment, a gift from the Muse. I expect the expression to start making the rounds around pulpits and podiums soon. Remember you heard it first from moi!
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