Sunday 21st.
May. 25th, 2010 12:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
camrogersTurns out the kebab joint down the street is entirely vegan. LOTS of goth traffic from the Felsenkeller venue across the street. J's been speaking Deutsche to the owner - a skinny, bearded and likeable long- haired fellow - and I just worked out he's Californian.
'Ein currywurst mit frittes und ein schwartzkaffe, bitte.'
'Sorry man, we're totally out of frittes. They have a habit of running out. Can do you bread though.'
I pretty much laughed my arse off.
So breakfast that morning, however, was vegan curywurst and fries in a remoulade. FRICKIN' TASTY. One thing J said that's dead on: when the Germans do something they do it right, and they really do organic well. Nothing half-arsed. With an organic lemonade. Cheap too. 4.5 euro. They play Motorhead and Biohazard. The skinny guy spends all day dishing up plates of hot fake meat and rich red sauce, everyone likes him.
They have a thing they do in bars over here: you may a deposit on your glass. You get it back when you return it. Saves on cleaning. Smart.
Felsenkeller hosted most of the gigs we were after and it was only 2 blocks away. Beer very soapy, however.
We saw Twisted Nerve (really good, and methinks the lead singer fashions himself on King Mob), Bollock Brothers (not too bad in a scousy, middle-aged football hooligan-by-way-of-punk kinda way), Madre del Vizio (godawful), Bloody Dead and Sexy (I left halfway through, J bought their CD) and Sexgang Children (polished, arty up the wazoo, Andy Sexgang reminds me of Dmetri after a lot of drugs and no quality control.) Again, photos, bandwidth.
Kebab joint working overtime at night as the street chokes with goths. Guys and girls in hoodies and kaffirs resting on longboard skateboards sit outside, on the sidewalk, eating massive pitabread falafel with both hands, laughing amongst themselves. One takes notes or sketches or something.
iPhone now keeping track of five timezones. Don't want to text someone at 3am their time.
One thing I like about the UK and Europe: old ladies bring their dogs into pubs and cafes. Just feels comfortingly sane.
Nary a tram ride where I haven't overheard the word 'schwartz' from a local.
When I do lapse into English out of desperation I find myself doing so in a softly-spoken Spanish - and only occasionally - German accent.
We skipped the club, knowing we'd be wrecked for tomorrow.
'Ein currywurst mit frittes und ein schwartzkaffe, bitte.'
'Sorry man, we're totally out of frittes. They have a habit of running out. Can do you bread though.'
I pretty much laughed my arse off.
So breakfast that morning, however, was vegan curywurst and fries in a remoulade. FRICKIN' TASTY. One thing J said that's dead on: when the Germans do something they do it right, and they really do organic well. Nothing half-arsed. With an organic lemonade. Cheap too. 4.5 euro. They play Motorhead and Biohazard. The skinny guy spends all day dishing up plates of hot fake meat and rich red sauce, everyone likes him.
They have a thing they do in bars over here: you may a deposit on your glass. You get it back when you return it. Saves on cleaning. Smart.
Felsenkeller hosted most of the gigs we were after and it was only 2 blocks away. Beer very soapy, however.
We saw Twisted Nerve (really good, and methinks the lead singer fashions himself on King Mob), Bollock Brothers (not too bad in a scousy, middle-aged football hooligan-by-way-of-punk kinda way), Madre del Vizio (godawful), Bloody Dead and Sexy (I left halfway through, J bought their CD) and Sexgang Children (polished, arty up the wazoo, Andy Sexgang reminds me of Dmetri after a lot of drugs and no quality control.) Again, photos, bandwidth.
Kebab joint working overtime at night as the street chokes with goths. Guys and girls in hoodies and kaffirs resting on longboard skateboards sit outside, on the sidewalk, eating massive pitabread falafel with both hands, laughing amongst themselves. One takes notes or sketches or something.
iPhone now keeping track of five timezones. Don't want to text someone at 3am their time.
One thing I like about the UK and Europe: old ladies bring their dogs into pubs and cafes. Just feels comfortingly sane.
Nary a tram ride where I haven't overheard the word 'schwartz' from a local.
When I do lapse into English out of desperation I find myself doing so in a softly-spoken Spanish - and only occasionally - German accent.
We skipped the club, knowing we'd be wrecked for tomorrow.
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no subject
Date: 2010-05-24 10:58 pm (UTC)(I probably knew this, having looked at the WGT website and forgot).
Sex Gang Children could go either way live. From the clips I have seen your description seems apt.
Vegan curywurst and fries sounds odd.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 05:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-24 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 05:39 pm (UTC)