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Miscellaneous Europe updates
Oper Koln
I am pretty sure the original Handel version of Giulio Cesare was not so sexy. This production featured harem dancers stripping to their undergarments, a male soprano in high heels, leather pants, and pompadour, and Cleopatra as a dominatrix in the third act. Still, the audience predominated by sexagenarians gave them enthusiastic applause and 4 curtain calls. Easily the finest young operatic cast I have ever seen. The hall was uninspiring and the production values more weird than wonderful, but the singing was divine:
More on Brugge
Had a lovely night walking around the place with a couple of people from the hostel: Ellie from Australia and Anne-Marie, a Quebecois studying in Vienna: Unfortunately, they weren't keen to actually go in anywhere, so we ended up back at the hostel by 10. I was so wired up with digging on the town that I wanted to head back out; but no one was left in the hostel, so I wandered alone, and ended up having one lonely beer at 't Brugse Beertje before calling it a night. The place was full of obnoxiously loud English metalheads...not my cup of tea.
I did, however, earlier have an excellent dinner. I wouldn't have expected it fro, a place called the Hoobit, but the kitsch was non-existent, the all-you-can eat grilled meats were excellent, and the Hoegaarden was ice cold. Yum!
As a side note, the cute waitress with the geeky glasses and desultory haircut was not my waitress, but she served to prove an interesting point: thong hanging out of your low-cut jeans...tacky. Sparkling white huge briefs doing same...inexplicably sexy.
Brussels
A nightmare. More on that later. Luckily, I am now in the coolest, most convivial-without-being-frattish-and-boorish hostel ever in Antwerp, and down the street is a cafe serving 200 kinds of jenever. Life is good again. Let's just pretend Brussels never happened.
Love and euro-kisses
J
I am pretty sure the original Handel version of Giulio Cesare was not so sexy. This production featured harem dancers stripping to their undergarments, a male soprano in high heels, leather pants, and pompadour, and Cleopatra as a dominatrix in the third act. Still, the audience predominated by sexagenarians gave them enthusiastic applause and 4 curtain calls. Easily the finest young operatic cast I have ever seen. The hall was uninspiring and the production values more weird than wonderful, but the singing was divine:
More on Brugge
Had a lovely night walking around the place with a couple of people from the hostel: Ellie from Australia and Anne-Marie, a Quebecois studying in Vienna: Unfortunately, they weren't keen to actually go in anywhere, so we ended up back at the hostel by 10. I was so wired up with digging on the town that I wanted to head back out; but no one was left in the hostel, so I wandered alone, and ended up having one lonely beer at 't Brugse Beertje before calling it a night. The place was full of obnoxiously loud English metalheads...not my cup of tea.
I did, however, earlier have an excellent dinner. I wouldn't have expected it fro, a place called the Hoobit, but the kitsch was non-existent, the all-you-can eat grilled meats were excellent, and the Hoegaarden was ice cold. Yum!
As a side note, the cute waitress with the geeky glasses and desultory haircut was not my waitress, but she served to prove an interesting point: thong hanging out of your low-cut jeans...tacky. Sparkling white huge briefs doing same...inexplicably sexy.
Brussels
A nightmare. More on that later. Luckily, I am now in the coolest, most convivial-without-being-frattish-and-boorish hostel ever in Antwerp, and down the street is a cafe serving 200 kinds of jenever. Life is good again. Let's just pretend Brussels never happened.
Love and euro-kisses
J
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