travel report 6: sailing out of Trieste along Istrien

As you know I have been on a sailing trip out of Triest for about a week. I arrived back in Vienna on Saturday, fresh of the boat, and happy to be back at my parent's place. I guess it is about time that I come to some sort of conclusion, mentally, about my impressions of this four week long road trip, but first of all lets make fun of puking, Croats, sail boat captains and myself. I cant make any fun of ze Germans, because they are awesome. Awesome for inviting me, awesome for being easy, awesome for squeezing themselves into a 30x7 space with a black Austrian and a thirsty skipper who honest to your choice of god lives in Schiffmanns Straße.

the crew









black Austrian, Schumi, Philipp, Thomas, Hermi, Anne

Yes, I made it back to Vienna in one piece, and also managed to not throw up all over myself and all over the boat for the last week. I dont know if you all know this about me, but I am the king of motionsickness. I realize this does not gel with my plan to be Austria's representative on Mars, what with space travel being rather nausea inducing. But how unamerican of me would it be to let a little puking get in the way of my dream? "About as unamerican as universal health coverage", says Billy O'Reilly. Therefore, I give you the Austrian Comet of Vomit.


this is what you get when you make fun of flexible pete


I did warn them about letting me drive that baby!





For this reason the crew of Taika managed to scrape together anti-motionsickness medicines from all corners of the world - Mostly thru our underworld connections to the drug industry, Ms Treuheit. Chewing gums, patches, 130 % proof alcohol (honestly, I didnt know it was for cleaning). I was told to only use the patch if my heart can viably beat at 5 beats per minute. I decided to wait to use it until I had taken that Online Fakir course, which should enable me to lie on beds of nails, survive naked in subzero temperatures, have a girlfriend and most importantly survive 5 heart beats per minute. Some might say that all of these things are one and the same, but who am I to judge? Luckily for us, the Mediterranean played nice and was flat as a pancake for the week. As opposed to me, who has been gaining weight steadily since I have been eating and drinking and eating and drinking and sitting on my ass in my Volvo and on the Taika a lot. What can I say, I never thought I would put on weight, but it seems to be mostly a function of who is serving me what kind of food.


Philipp Treuheit left front, responsible for wuzeln, cooking and Mussels - QED for my newfound fatness!



3 kilos of mussels for 4 euros bought of fishing boat, a lot of crunching, very little talking, happiness lies in plans well laid. "Dont eat the ones that dont open!"

Once again, I have to give a shoutout to my incredibly democratic teutonic friends. Nothing on this sailing trip existed that was not agreed upon unanimously. Every packet of noodles, can of beer, packet of Kippen (german for smokes or tschick), dinner, breakfast, cheese, ham and plan was discussed, taken apart, examined from all angles, put together again, and finally agreed to. Which is why the bloody German machines gel so well, I might add. I am not generally a patient person, goes hand in hand with being Austria's Comet of Vomit, but I must say this was lovely to behold. Not only did I enjoy our indepth analysis of each and every point, but it also made complete sense to have everyone's view count. We did ignore the skipper every once in a while, mostly when he said "Do I really have to die of thirst here?" But only because he wasnt talking about a sip of water. But otherwise this lead to a rather harmonious experience on a ship the size of a post stamp.

Most of you know that I lived in Japan for a couple of years a long time ago. I can honestly say that at least 3 out of 6 Japanese would have committed Sepuko on this excuse for a ship after three days. Of course they would have left notes explaining that they did themselves in for the greater g(f)ood for the survivors, but we all know that's BS. Their sissy little polite facades couldn't take what teutonic democrats easily discuss and debate into complete and utter submission. It is similar to the way we cook meats and vegetabls until they are hard as rock and gooey as marshmallows, respectively. If you dont believe me, try sleeping with Treuheit in a cabin for which I lack appropriate size metaphors because its just too short, too croocked, too right above the waterpump. Maybe that 130 % proof alcohol was for not remembering the nights, but in all honesty I can say, even the sleeping arrangement worked like a charm.

You are forgiven, if you read the above and forever more refuse to step on a sailing boat smaller than the Queen Elizabeth II. However, you would be missing out on an amazing experience with friends that will only become closer - much closer - as you learn to work as a team throwing Halsen and Wenden and People over Board (for training purposes, I think at least).

Now if only we could have figured out how to learn a maneuver which would ensure a modicom of politeness from our Croat hosts in the various marinas. But short of a sawed-off pump action gun, I cant think of anything that would have achieved that. The only difference between a Croat and a Frenchman is that the Croat screams "Nema" at you at the top of his lung, while the Frenchman just ignores you. Z, you were absolutely right. Croats do want our money, they just dont like us to come down there to give it to them. They would much rather we just transfer it over in zeros and ones. That little Mario actually tried to run a racket on me that a Phillipino would have been proud of. Alas he did not reckon with the teutonic anger of Captain Werner from Schiffmans Straße who, and this is best said in German, las ihm die Leviten like only a man of the sea is capable of doing. I tell you it is fun to behold a Croat and a German going at each other - them's a couple of funny angry accents.

"NEMA! Je bemti matre, yu wil nema coom he again! I waant mei funf Eeuro"
"HAH, I veel sspeeck wiz urr bosss rrrigt nau, and ve veel ze hoo haz ze lazt worrrd een zes matter!"

Does it get any better than this? I need to move back here, just to be able to make fun of other people's accents instead of my own for a change.

Finally I do need to impress upon you, that if Austria would have run the world instead of Rome, Britain or the USA it probably would not be a more just place, and surely not more efficient. But it would certainly be one hell of a pretty place. History buffs that you all are, of course you know that this part of the world used to part of Austria. And strange as it is to see Austrian Herrenhäuser on the seashore, it is pleasing to even my jaded Austrian eye. Might be my own sensibility but it takes a certain level of arrogance to go and take over place, just so that you can build this:

for your little Sissy - Austrian Empress, embodied by Romy Schneider in useless if sweet Austrian movie "Sissy", who is a sort of old school Jacky Kennedy. Just so you dont think America invented the hot stylish first lady. Austria made a bloody living at that, although I still dont understand how they got around them Habsburg noses. No matter how, "Tu felix Austria nube" remains one of my favorite quotes. I also need to get me one of those Franzl uniforms.

I leave you with my thought of Austrian Imperialism:











And if anyone wants to send the open letter right before this post to my foreign minister, here is her address: ursula.plassnik@bmeia.gv.at